**Juvenile Detention Center.**
Neither Lip nor Fiona could accept what they were hearing.
Lip was agitated, veins bulging on his forehead. "Debbie, what the hell does that mean? What did that shrink tell you? Whatever she said, she's full of sh*t!"
Debbie smiled faintly. "The doctor said you'd say that. She was right."
Lip was stunned. "What the fxxk! What exactly did she say? Tell me!"
Debbie remained calm. "She said she admires the Gallagher family and knows we've had it rough. But the way we live isn't right. You guys have had a very bad influence on me, making it hard for me to tell right from wrong."
"She also said that family *is* important. But the importance of family doesn't just mean sticking together no matter how sh*tty life gets."
"We understand family too narrowly. We think just being together makes a family."
"But that's not how it works."
"..."
"I think she's right."
"I want to be better. I don't want to grow up to be like you guys."
At this point, the guard nearby signaled that time was up.
Debbie nodded obediently. She turned to Fiona, who was already crying, and gave her a happy smile. "When you get back, help me apologize to Carl. I was wrong before. I hope he can forgive me."
"That's it then. I'm going. If nothing serious happens, you don't need to come visit me again. A year will go by fast."
With those words, not waiting for Fiona or Lip to respond, Debbie stood up and left with the guard.
Watching Debbie walk away, Fiona's eyes were red, and tears streamed down her face. She kept murmuring, "Debbie..."
Lip's forehead veins throbbed, his fists clenched tight, his breathing ragged with fury.
Debbie's final words had made her stance painfully clear.
Following in Carl and Ian's footsteps, Debbie was breaking away from the Gallagher family too...
So, what was left of the Gallaghers?
Just Fiona and Lip, the oblivious toddler Liam, and Frank, who never brought anything but trouble.
Was this even the Gallagher family anymore?
*The Gallagher family is gone...*
On the way out, Fiona was dazed, utterly despairing. This single thought consumed her mind.
She didn't even know how she walked out of the building until Lip's roar snapped her back to reality slightly.
"Fxxk!" The moment they stepped outside, Lip let out a furious roar.
His frequent explosions of rage were genuinely frightening.
Hearing him, Fiona looked at Lip with eyes full of despair. She wanted to say something, but the words wouldn't come.
Seeing Fiona like this, Lip's heart ached. "Fiona, don't worry. Debbie's just been brainwashed by that damn shrink. She's a Gallagher. She's our family!"
"We'll come see her whenever we can. If she sees us more often, she won't have those ridiculous ideas anymore."
Is that really true?
Fiona didn't actually think so.
But in this situation, Fiona yearned for—or rather, *needed*—hope. Even if that hope was false, an illusion.
Because without that hope...
Fiona genuinely didn't know how she could keep going!
These kids were Fiona's life!
Raising these kids had practically been the meaning of her existence.
Without them, what was the point of living? *How* would she live?
"Yeah." Fiona summoned her strength, forced a smile, and nodded.
Karen watched coldly from the side.
If she didn't know what kind of trash the Gallaghers were, she might have actually been moved.
Thinking this, Karen couldn't help but want to laugh.
---
**2114 North Wallace Street.**
Inside Ian's bedroom, there was not a single sound.
Ian was still asleep, motionless.
Outside the room.
Peggy, wracked with pain and knowing her time was short, sat in her wheelchair and ordered Frank to open Ian's door.
Peggy peeked inside.
Frank glanced in casually.
Frank truly had little affection for Ian. One look was enough, and he looked away, not bothering to check further.
Looking at Ian on the bed, Peggy frowned, unable to figure out what was wrong with him.
Frank, however, had an idea.
Because Monica used to get like this from time to time... the scene was all too familiar.
But Frank didn't care.
A moment later, Frank pulled the door shut.
As a dying woman, Peggy couldn't figure out what was wrong with Ian and didn't care enough to pry.
When you're dying, a lot of things really don't matter anymore.
Besides, family had never meant much to Peggy anyway.
"Take me for a bath. Scrub me good," Peggy ordered Frank.
Frank, pushing the wheelchair, twisted his mouth in annoyance. The thought of drowning Peggy while bathing her popped into his head.
Of course, the thought only lasted for a second before vanishing.
Frank didn't have the guts.
Did he care about Peggy?
No.
Frank and Peggy, in a way, were like a couple in an abusive relationship.
The wife gets beaten by the husband constantly, but over time, she develops a twisted attachment. If the husband gets arrested or dies, she actually misses him.
It was sick.
About ten minutes later.
Frank silently helped Peggy bathe.
"Use some muscle! After you're done, wheel me to the Indian casino. I feel lucky today," Peggy yelled, dissatisfied with Frank's service.
Frank meekly increased the pressure. At the same time, his eyes darted around as he hatched a plan. "Mom, I want to play at the casino too. Can you spot me a little cash?"
Hearing this, Peggy sneered. "Heh, you want money? Put some back into it! Serve me well, and I'll give you money."
"Deal!" When it came to money, Frank was unmatched in his eagerness.
---
**At the vacant lot, soon to be a shooting range.**
Carl was still chattering away, telling Mickey all about his super weird dream.
Mickey was distracted. Finally, he couldn't take it anymore and interrupted Carl. "Mandy can't reach Ian. What's wrong with him?"
Carl didn't have a high IQ and suspected nothing. He shook his head. "Nothing's wrong. He's just sleeping in. Probably slept through the call."
Mickey knew exactly how smart Carl was. He gritted his teeth, feigning casualness, and said, "Sleeping at this hour? Doesn't he have work? Call him and check."
"Okay," Carl agreed without thinking. He pulled out his phone and dialed Ian.