You are paranoid about the scale. When a new hopeful enters, it is the first thing you check as soon as they have handed you their documents.
A three kilogram difference isn't so much. A heavy coat for the heavy winter, boots, a good meal. Or enough explosives to kill three guards and leave dents in the concrete. Like at the next checkpoint over, two days ago.
To hell with the ever-changing rules, but they – guards, Sergiu, your family – depend on you.
You check the scale. Four kilograms; 'random search'. Bombs under clothing. Detain. Another terrorist attack averted.
A/N: Written for the prompt 'guardian'.