Hecouldn''ttellifitwasthecaffeine—orsomethingelse.

        Eitherway,heknewonethingforsure.

        He''dhavetostopbytherestaurantagain.HavealittlechatwitholdHessel.

        Ifitcamedowntoit,hecouldalwayshelpReyasettlethatso-calledantiquevase—fivedigitsbarelymeantanythingtohimanyway.

        ***

        Junspenttheentiremorningfinishinghisusualdailytasks.JustasRedLanternopenedforthelunchservice,hewalkedintotherestaurant.

        Thecrispchimeofthewindbellwelcomedhim.Kurt,themixed-racedeliveryboy,stoodatthecounter,talkingtothemiddle-agedAsianwomanbehindit—hismother.Hisfacelookedtense,theconversationclearlynotgoingwell.

        Hearingsomeoneenter,Kurtturned.WhenhesawJun,hisbrowfurrowed.

        "You,again?"

        Junraisedaneyebrow."What,Ican''tcomeforameal?"

        ThewomanholdingthemenuwalkedpastKurtwithoutaword,simplygesturingforJuntotakeaseatbythewindow.

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