eddie’s in prison. just for now, just till you can get his passport to his lawyer, so he can turn it in. he’s already paid bail. he’s in for fraud or something, you aren’t quite sure. he won’t tell you, saying it’s best you don’t worry your pretty little head. the necklace you’re wearing is something he bought you, and so is the bracelet. your shoes are designer, the house the two of you live in together is huge.

the table you’re sitting at is cold, and so is the chair. the prison is strange, you’ve never been in one before. neither had eddie. he isn’t worried, still all calculated coolness and easygoing charm. “you’re handling this great, baby. really. as soon as this is sorted i swear, i’ll put a big ring on that finger, okay?” he reaches for you, and the guard snaps at him to keep his hands on the table. it’s the only rule.

he rolls his eyes, but obliges. “sweet girl, i want you to do somethin’ for me, okay?” he asks. you nod. “cmere.” he says, leaning in. you meet him in the middle, and he kisses you, then pulling back just a hair so he can speak to you without being heard. “my passport is in a false wooden panel in the closet. there’s some papers in there, too. burn them. all of them.” he whispers, before leaning in to kiss you again. “you get me that passport and i can come home to you tomorrow.” he says.