Joe was so frustrated he could have jumped into the Mississippi and stille out feeling dirty. But Hank? Hank couldn''t care less about Joe''s mood. Without a second nce, he walked out of the club. The thing that really got under Joe''s skin was Hank''s unppable demeanor. No matter what Joe did, he couldn''t get a reaction out of him. It was like punching a pillow-no impact, no satisfaction. Feinman was busy ying matchmaker, trying to rope him into family ties and wedding bells with Julie, but Hank was indifferent. To him, Joe might as well have been invisible.


    In Hank''s eyes, Joe wasn''t even worth considering a rival.


    And that''s what deted Joe the most.


    The more Hank ignored him, the more Joe wanted to get under his skin. But he wasn''t about to y the fool and set the stage for Devin to take all the credit, so he kept dragging his feet on the wedding with Julie. Maybe it was theparison. Watching Hank about to marry the woman he actually loved made Joe all the more reluctant to tie the knot with Julie, a woman whose mind was abyrinth of schemes. His wife should be nothing like Julie.


    ...


    In the parking lot, Nelson asked, "Mr. Salstrom, heading back to Southridge Estates or Salstrom Manor tonight?"


    Hank walked over to the driver''s side. "Clock out early today, Nelson. Toss me the keys."


    Nelson handed over the keys in an instant, and Hank drove off, effortlessly steering the car towards Riverdale''s bustling Night Market.


    Parking his car, Hank slipped on a face mask and made his way through the stalls, eventually stopping at a bubble tea shop for a cup of taro bubble tea.


    It was Anastasia who had introduced him to taro bubble tea. He fell for the vor on the first sip, much like he fell for her the moment they met.


    Hank climbed the stairs to the second floor and settled by the window of a Wace''s Burgers joint, a spot he frequented enough that the staff knew him by sight.


    He''d always take that same seat, order a bubble tea and a two-person tter of fries, then just sit for thirty minutes, sometimes an hour, without touching the food in front of him.


    His gaze was fixed outside the window, across the street at a small stall where Anastasia and her daughter Pattie were setting up shop.


    Anastasia, back in her element, was running a stall in the Night Market, dealing in small trades, her face always brimming with a smile and zest for life.


    Pattie, the sensible and helpful kid, would assist with crafts and drawing customers in. Her adorable charm made their stall a popr spot.


    The mother-daughter duo shone like stars on that street, their beauty unmatched.


    Anastasia, once known as Mrs. Salstrom, struggled to find regr employment, so the market stall was her way to make ends meet. She didn''t mind, though. The simplicity brought her peace.


    Hank had promised Feinman he''d stay away from Anastasia, so he could only watch them from the shadows, stealing nces whenever he could.


    Business had been good that day, and as Anastasia counted the day''s earnings, she handed Pattie a fifty: "This is for you, honey. Go buy something you like."


    Pattie beamed with joy. "Thanks, Mom! I''ve been craving some fries, a burger, and a soda. Can I?"


    "You''re in charge of that money now," Anastasiaughed. "Of course, you can."


    "Great, I''ll go get it!" Pattie had longed for that treat for a while, being a kid with little resistance to such tasty temptations.


    After reminding Pattie to be careful crossing the street, Anastasia watched her daughter head towards Wace''s Burgers. Pattie knew the Night Market street by heart and was sensible enough for Anastasia to trust her on her own. "Got it, Mom!" Pattie cheerfully took the money and scampered off.


    From his window seat, Hank watched Pattie approach. Soon enough, she bounded up the stairs into Wace''s.


    Hank quickly put on his mask, not wanting to be recognized. Pattie, oblivious to Hank''s presence, happily ced her order. "Hi, I''d like some fries, two burgers, a soda, and a hot milk, please."


    After counting out her money, the cashier said, "That''ll be fifty-two, sweetheart. You''re a couple bucks short."


    Pattie rummaged through her pockets to no avail. She was out of money.


    Hank''s heart ached at the sight of Pattie''s innocent distress.