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Hal squinted into the pot then turned back to Matt with a frown. “Really?”

Matt grinned wider. “Last time, you said I couldn’t have ravioli because we needed to boil it. And now”—he raised his hands at the pot, fingers wiggling dramatically—“it’s finally boiling time!”

Alex scoffed and tapped Hal’s arm. “So he can have fucking Italian dumplings, but I can’t have some shrimp flavor?”

“I’d rather have ravioli than artificial chemicals ruin the purity of the broth,” Ken muttered, daintily chewing on a ramen noodle.

Alex lifted the ladle full of the hot soup, about to chuck it at the tall ex-cop when a crackling laugh shot across the room.

“It looks like you guys are having fun!” Robin’s generic icon glowed on the old laptop, sitting on the plastic chair between Jun and Kana. “Makes me wish that I was there. Ravioli in a hot pot sounds amazing!”

Matt put his hands on his hips and puffed his chest out with pride. “I’m glad someone has real taste! Next time, I’ll give you some!”

Hal turned to the computer. “Then why don’t you come? Where you at anyway?”

“That’s classified,” Robin chirped. “But it’s okay! I already got my own bowl of ramen, so it’s like I’m there with you guys in spirit!”

“What flavor?” Alex asked.

“Shrimp.”

Alex stared at the laptop screen for a long moment. Without a word, he tore open the shrimp-flavored packet and dumped its contents into his bowl.

“Well, I don’t know about y’all, but I’m glad we are all here in one piece,” said Hal, changing the subject. He pointed his dripping hot tongs at Alex. “Stupid for challenging our target to a race.”

“I won.” Alex grinned.

“And lost at the same time. We literally got nothing.” Hal jerked his head in Jun’s direction, who was munching on a mouthful of cabbage and mushrooms. “Then Connor here had to pick up your messy ass.”

Jun looked up mid-chew, blinking like he’d just tuned back in. “What happened?” he asked, dreamy-eyed.

It was still wild to Alex that Jun—quiet, soft-spoken, won’t-look-you-in-the-eye Jun—had somehow talked a rich guy into handing over his Vanquish. Alex couldn’t tell if the kid had turned into some kind of blond Asian heartthrob overnight or if the universe had just decided to bless his awkward ass for once.

“Were you able to get the information from Luis?” Robin asked.

Jun set his bowl down, chewing. “No.”

“The fuck you mean?” Alex spat.

Jun winced, as if Alex smacked him, and dropped his gaze. The act somehow stung his heart.

“I mean,” said Jun, continuing to look down, “I couldn’t. He got thrown in a dumpster.”

Hal stopped chewing. Kana’s spoon hovered halfway to her mouth. Matt blinked. Ken slowly lowered his bowl. Even Alex couldn’t find a word.

“I think we are missing some context, sweetheart,” Kana said softly.

“It’s a long story. I didn’t have the chance to ask him.” Jun glanced around the room. When his eyes landed on Alex, he snapped his eyes back at his feet.

Alex heaved a long sigh, placed his bowl on the ground, and rested his forearms on his knees. The animosity between him and Jun was stupid. Continuing it would be stupider. He hated that the dormant feeling reappeared, gnawing him ever so slowly from the inside. As much as he wanted to talk sense into Jun, he had to be careful. Alex took a breath. Another.

“So did you even get anything?” he asked, keeping his tone even, not attempting to meet his gaze. “How did you even get the Vanquish?”

Jun stuffed his hand into his pocket, walked over, and gave him a small black card, eyes trained on the floor. “The masked man told me to contact him if I wanted to work with him.” He shuffled back to his green milk carton seat.

Alex tilted the card under the garage light until the silver letters caught the glare. He read it out loud. “Covey Lakeridge.”

A metal spoon clattered.