"Got one from the landlord," Elvis says, reaching into his pocket for the key in question. "They're pretty used to this happening around here, I think." He doesn't know how or why. For all that he's come to expect this sort of thing, for people to leave or be otherwise taken away, he could never treat it as something so commonplace, the weight never diminished. It's why he tries to keep people at a distance preemptively. Obviously, though, he hasn't succeeded in that. "Why? You need somethin' from inside?"