The tone of voice snaps him out of the creeping fugue of anger and despair threatening to pull him under. Regulus stares up at Remus, and he looks as though he's moving underwater as he lifts the chain—it's heavier now, isn't it, it's gotten heavier, it doesn't want to lift off the back of his neck—but he still can't open his fingers, even as he holds it out over the box.

"I can't," he whispers, dry and raw around the edges, fingers cramping with the effort to unfold. "It won't let me."