You just had to… get used to the solid steel springs. Speaking of said springs, as he lifted the mattress, he noticed there were indeed various places where springs were partially poking through the mattress. It was entirely possible that what he had interpreted as a silver brush on the divet of his journal was instead the grey of steel, just harder to discern in the harsh blue light of the brick. It was entirely possible he was overthinking this entire thing. He couldn’t shake the paranoia, however, as he replaced the mattress. He couldn’t leave the book there anymore; he would have to take it with him from now on. It meant risking its loss, either by theft or destruction, sure, but it would help him keep his peace until he found a better solution.