Cook County Juvenile Detention Center.
Evening recreation ti.
Debbie, eyes red and puffy, body tense as a bowstring, cowered in the corner. Her eyes were filled with terror as she looked at the other delinquent girls in the recreation area...
The more she looked, the more scared she got. The more scared she got, the more she missed ho. Tears flowed uncontrollably.
Since being arrested yesterday, Debbie had lost count of how many tis she had cried. Her eyes were practically swollen shut.
Many of the other girls noticed Debbie, of course. They gathered in groups of two or three, whispering and giggling.
Debbie saw them and had a sinking feeling this wasn't going to be good. Her fear spiked.
Before she knew it, it was shower ti.
Debbie and the other girls followed the guard to the showers.
Inside the shower room.
Debbie, who had never experienced showering openly with so many girls, huddled into herself, afraid to move. She just stared blankly, too scared to wash.
This was bad.
In a place like a shower room, being stared at like that? So of the girls got angry. They exchanged looks, and without needing a word, marched over to Debbie.
"Debbie Gallagher. You're famous now. Impressive!"
"Why aren't you washing?"
"Don't want to shower with us?"
"Let big sister help you."
"..."
Within monts, Debbie's mouth was covered, and she was threatened with a beating if she scread. Tears streaming down her face, she was dragged under a showerhead.
Then.
More girls surrounded her.
Debbie enjoyed a belated "Welco to Juvie" ceremony.
"You pervert! Going after a three-year-old boy!"
"Talk! What did you do to that little boy?"
"Like being a pervert, huh? I'm gonna enjoy breaking you!"
"..."
The girls cursed as they punched and kicked Debbie.
Debbie curled up on the floor, not daring to make a sound. Instinctively, she hugged her head tight, in excruciating pain and utter despair. But at the sa ti, anger began to rise. In those terrified eyes, a small fla of rage flickered.
Countless fists and feet rained down on her...
Pain washed over her like a tidal wave...
Debbie gritted her teeth, forcing her eyes open, trying her best to see the faces of the people hitting her!
She wanted to morize those faces!
She wanted to pay this pain back double!
She wanted revenge!
She wanted to kill these bitches!
Not long after.
Following the unspoken rules of juvie—to avoid alerting the guards and getting in trouble—the group of girls scattered quickly once they had their fill. They left Debbie curled up on the wet tiles, blood on her face and body, as if nothing had happened.
Debbie bit her lip until it bled. Painfully, slowly, she stood up. Then, she opened her bloodshot eyes as wide as they could go and scanned the room.
Hatred churned in her chest. In this mont, Debbie was vastly different from before.
Of course, faced with this version of Debbie, the other girls weren't pleased.
So, the next beating would naturally co sooner rather than later.
...
Juvenile detention is a school for troubled youth.
God Carl spent a year in juvie, and not long after getting out, his life took a completely new turn.
After spending a year in juvie, what would Debbie beco?
---
The Gallagher House.
First Floor Living Room.
Fiona sat on the sofa, smoking one cigarette after another as if she were trying to smoke herself to death.
Fiona wasn't thinking about Debbie. She wasn't thinking about anything else. The only thought in her brain was: How am I going to survive?
After chain-smoking several cigarettes and calming down a tiny bit, Fiona wiped her face hard, took a deep breath, and picked up her phone to call an employnt agency she knew.
The call connected.
Fiona put on her best possible tone. "Geraldo, it's Fiona Gallagher. I wanted to ask if you have any jobs I could do. Anything at all."
Geraldo lived on the South Side too, so he naturally knew about the kidnapping. Hearing this, he sighed and thought for a mont. "Fiona, with your current situation, you won't find any slightly normal job. No normal boss will be willing to hire you."
Just like that, the cruel reality Fiona hadn't realized before was thrown in her face by Geraldo.
Fiona froze, then instinctively tried to explain. "Geraldo, I was acquitted. I didn't kidnap that little boy..."
Geraldo shook his head. "What's the use of explaining to ? Does anyone else believe it? ...Fiona, I know it's not easy for you, but I really can't offer you any normal work right now."
Fiona understood what he ant. She gritted her teeth. Even though she really didn't want to ask, she had to eat. She had no choice. "Then... what about abnormal work?"
Geraldo paused for a mont. "There is. Are you really willing to do it?"
Fiona paused too. She wanted to cry but held it back. "What kind of work?"
"Stripper, topless waitress, escort... You know, the kind of jobs where people don't care what you've done," Geraldo listed them off.
Listening to this, Fiona couldn't stop her body from trembling.
These jobs...
Too horrifying.
Fiona felt both disgusted and terrified. She had to take a deep breath to stop shaking. "Let think about it and call you back, okay?"
"Okay," Geraldo replied and hung up decisively.
Fiona wanted to say sothing else, but listening to the dial tone, she zoned out.
Ian, who was sitting nearby and had heard most of the conversation, hesitated, then spoke up. "Fiona, don't worry. Lip and I can still make money. It'll be okay."
Hearing this, Fiona's face crumpled, and she gave Ian a bitter smile.
At this mont, besides a bitter smile, what other reaction could she have?
---
Lip's business in the afternoon was terrible. Absolutely terrible!
The impact of the kidnapping case manifested on Lip as well.
Many kids in the park were afraid to go near him, let alone buy things from him.
Faced with this reality, Lip, whose emotions were always unstable, was naturally furious.
This anger lasted for hours. Even now, a significant amount remained, unsuppressed.
Accompanied by anger, after dropping Karen off, Lip drove toward the Gallagher backyard, cursing non-stop.
Because most of his attention was occupied by rage, Lip didn't notice the Toyota sedan parked in the shadows by the roadside.
Inside the Toyota.
Steve, who had been waiting for a long ti, spotted the ice cream truck Lip was driving imdiately. Then, through the rearview mirror, he roughly identified Lip.
As soon as he recognized Lip.
Steve didn't waste a second. He raised his hand to signal action.
The next second.
Steve and his three accomplices quickly pulled on black hoods and gloves, grabbed towels soaked in chemicals, and waited silently for the truck to stop.
About two or three minutes later.
The truck parked in the Gallagher backyard. Lip got out with a cigarette in his mouth, locked the door, and walked toward the house.
One step, two steps, three steps...
Steve and the other three rushed into the backyard like ghosts in the night, sprinting full speed up behind Lip.
One of them moved with incredible speed, clamping the chemically soaked towel over Lip's nose and mouth.
In just a few seconds.
Lip passed out.
Steve waved his hand, and one of the stronger accomplices imdiately hoisted Lip onto his back.
The four retreated to the Toyota without a word, moving fast. Then, they unceremoniously stuffed Lip into the trunk and gave him an injection to ensure he'd stay out for twelve hours or more.
Trunk closed. The Toyota slowly drove away into the darkness.
They drove for about half an hour.
Arriving at a desolate wasteland without a soul in sight, the Toyota stopped.
Steve and the three others got out silently, opened the trunk, and hauled Lip out.
Then, Steve reached into the trunk and pulled out a baseball bat prepared in advance. The other three positioned Lip on the ground.
Baseball bat in hand. Steve, who wasn't really this kind of person, had never done this before, and had only seen it in movies, took two steps forward. He took a deep breath, raised the bat, and swung it down hard onto Lip's right shin!
Crack. One hit. Two hits. Three hits.
The crisp sound of breaking bone echoed.
"It's broken," one of the accomplices said.
Hearing this, Steve felt a wave of relief. He exhaled a long breath, stopped hitting, and tossed the bat back into the trunk. Then, he took out a prepared needle and thread. He squatted by the head of the still-unconscious Lip and began to sew Lip's mouth shut.
Even without what happened in the cell last night, Steve hated Lip's mouth.
Now that the leg was broken, might as well go all the way. Fk it. One step further.
It didn't take long.
Lip's mouth was completely sewn shut.
It was an ugly job, but it was tight.
Steve grinned. Very satisfied.
A few minutes later.
Lip was put back into the trunk.
Steve paid the n and sent them away. Then, he got behind the wheel himself and drove straight for the US-Canada border.
---
The Gallagher House.
In the living room, Ian checked the clock instinctively, feeling a bit puzzled.
Because not long ago, he clearly heard the sound of a car in the backyard and knew Lip was back. But it had been so long, why hadn't Lip co inside?
Puzzled, Ian hesitated, then got up and walked to the back door.
Stepping out, he saw the beat-up ice cream truck parked in the yard.
This ant Lip definitely ca back.
So, did he go find that slut Karen?
Spent all afternoon together and still not enough? Didn't even enter the house, just went back to Karen?
Thinking this, a look of disgust gradually appeared on Ian's face. He shook his head.
"Hopeless," Ian sighed, judging him. He didn't think much more of it and went back inside.
Fiona was still tirelessly calling everyone she could think of, struggling to find a job that didn't require selling her body or dignity.
The result, of course.
Five or six calls later, not a single piece of good news.
Just then, ending another disappointing call and seeing Ian return, Fiona—who had also heard the noise in the backyard earlier—sighed silently and asked, "Lip?"
Ian shook his head. "Car's back, didn't see him. Probably went to find Karen."
Compared to Ian, Fiona disliked Karen even more. Hearing her na, she instinctively showed an expression of disgust.
But this ti, Fiona didn't say anything. She just sighed again and continued making calls, clinging to a shred of hope.
Frank sat on the sofa, quiet under the influence of his ds, watching TV. Although he saw Fiona's struggle, he didn't say a word. He didn't care. Not interested.
Ti flew by.
Everyone she could contact had been contacted. No good news...
Fiona despaired. She looked at the ti, took a deep breath, turned to Ian, and forced out the words, "I'm tired. I'm going to sleep. I have to visit Debbie early tomorrow."
"Call Lip. Tell him to co back soon. It's late."
Ian felt bad for Fiona and nodded. "Okay."
Fiona didn't say more. She got up and went straight to her room. Even though she slled a bit, she didn't have the energy to shower, so she lay directly on the bed.
The scent of Steve was still clear on the sheets.
Slling it, Fiona broke down again, crying silently, tears rolling down ceaselessly.
First Floor Living Room.
Ian dialed Lip's number. Hearing the "phone is off" ssage, he wanted to call Karen.
Unfortunately, he didn't have Karen's number.
Thinking for a mont.
Ian rembered Dexter seed to have Karen's number. He called Dexter .
Dexter was enjoying Bianca's oral service. Hearing his phone vibrate, he picked it up, saw it was Ian, and answered, puzzled.
Ian explained the situation.
"Sure, I'll send it to you right away," Dexter replied without thinking much.
"Thanks," Ian thanked him.
Call ended.
Dexter sent Karen's number to Ian, tossed the phone aside, and focused on enjoying Bianca's service.
The Gallagher House.
Ian, who really didn't want any contact with Karen, took a deep breath and forced himself to call her.
Karen answered.
"Karen, it's Ian. Can you put Lip on? I need to talk to him," Ian said.
Karen giggled silently. Suddenly rembering servicing Ian under the dinner table, she thought, If I fked Ian, Lip would definitely go crazy, right? So, she replied sweetly, "Lip isn't with . He went ho."
Ian paused. "He's not with you? His car is back, but he isn't..."
Then, a possibility struck Ian.
Did Lip go find Carl?
"Okay, thanks. I know where he is," Ian dropped the sentence casually. Before Karen could say anything, he hung up and imdiately called Carl.
Carl was sitting comfortably on his bed, playing gas on the console Peg gave him. Hearing the phone ring, he paused the ga impatiently and answered. "Ian?"
"Is Lip there?" Ian asked.
"No," Carl replied succinctly.
Ian was confused. "??? He didn't go see you?"
"No. Haven't seen him," Carl replied.
Ian couldn't think of where Lip would go. "Okay. Get so rest. Goodnight."
"Goodnight." With his limited IQ, Carl never had curiosity about things that didn't interest him. He didn't ask what happened, just hung up and went back to his ga.
Ian rubbed his forehead.
Besides Karen, Lip didn't have any friends.
This late at night, if Lip didn't go to Karen's and didn't go to Carl's, where could he be?
Ian couldn't figure it out.
In a blink.
Late Night.
Ian woke up in the middle of the night. He imdiately looked at Lip's bed.
Empty. No one there.
Ian checked his phone for the ti.
Past 2:00 AM...
At this point, Ian finally felt sothing was wrong.
But only a little. Not enough to make him do anything or get too nervous.
After all, Lip was emotionally unstable and prone to outbursts. Not coming ho for a night wasn't exactly rare.
Hope he didn't go do sothing stupid.
Ian sighed, closed his eyes, and went back to sleep.
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