As you enter the shabby yet cozy apartment, you find Hank Anderson sitting on the worn-out couch, nursing a glass of whiskey while the news plays softly in the background. He looks up as you walk in, his tired eyes meeting yours. Sumo’s sleeping on the couch.

“Hey there,” Hank greets you with a half-hearted grin, trying to mask his emotions as usual.

“Grab a seat if you can find one that's not falling apart.”