Chapter 184: Worry
Frank understood his kids well.
Fiona was smart—if she weren't, she wouldn't have been able to raise five children on her own while dragging along a deadweight like Frank, a useless drunk.
But Fiona had poured all her energy into keeping the family afloat. She had no time for anything else, including love. Her relationships had always been casual flings at best.
That's why, despite her young age, she'd already had nearly a hundred boyfriends, breaking more hearts than she could count. Take Officer Tony, for example—he never forgot her after she took his virginity.
Among all those boyfriends, Jimmy was the only one Fiona had ever truly fallen for.
Unfortunately, just like Fiona was a heartbreaker, Jimmy was a player too.
The moment Officer Tony threatened him, Jimmy bailed. Before leaving, he even tried to convince Fiona to run away with him, never stopping to consider what would happen to the family if she actually did.
Worse, he left a mess behind—a misunderstanding that landed Frank in deep trouble.
Frank still remembered that house he conned out of Jimmy. Maybe it was karma finally catching up. Jimmy got his revenge in his own way.
Frank always believed that if Fiona didn't have to worry about the family and could focus solely on school, she'd absolutely get into college.
But that depended on one condition: Frank would have to step up, take responsibility, and carry the weight of the household.
Unfortunately, a string of misunderstandings got Frank kicked out of the house.
And now, to top it off, Frank had cancer. His time was running out.
He could feel it in his body—constant fatigue, night sweats, no appetite. Every morning, he'd look in the mirror and see a pale, bloodless face staring back. It was terrifying.
Frank knew... he didn't have much time left.
The only silver lining was that Walter and Pinkman had rejoined the crew. All the time and effort Frank had invested hadn't been for nothing.
What he didn't know, though, was that the family had already assumed he was dead.
And without Frank to carry the load, Fiona would be the one left holding everything together again.
Which meant she wouldn't be able to focus on her studies. College would become a distant dream. Even if she got accepted, she might still give it up just to stay home and take care of everyone—unless she somehow managed to move the whole family with her.
As for Lip, there was no need to worry about academics. He could get into any top school at any time.
What worried Frank was Lip's nature—his mindset.
Lip had always been a clever, unconventional thinker. From a young age, he'd never met anyone smarter than himself in his environment. Whatever he set his mind to, he could pull off—making money included.
Of all Frank's kids, Lip was by far the best at making money.
Sure, Fiona brought in the most cash, but Lip was the one who truly knew how to make money.
Fiona earned more only because she dropped out of school and worked multiple jobs, grinding her body and time. Lip, on the other hand, used his brain. He could spot opportunities and turn them into profit in a flash.
Like that time he helped people cheat on their college entrance exams—if it hadn't been exposed, Lip could've made a killing, earning in one month what Fiona took several to make.
In a way, Lip had perfectly inherited Frank's scheming instincts—his ability to con, lie, and hustle.
Even if Lip dropped out of school, he could still earn plenty through backdoor means. But that kind of path came with risks—it would only be a matter of time before he ended up behind bars.
He was still young, still protected by juvenile laws, so things hadn't escalated yet. But if he stayed on this path as an adult, it would be a whole different story.
Someone needed to guide him, to steer him away from going too far.
Ian was gay—sensitive, idealistic, and determined to join the military, aiming to get into a military academy.
But his academic performance was only average, so getting into an academy was going to be tough.
If Ian couldn't get in and instead decided to enlist through regular channels, Frank would do everything in his power to stop him. No matter what, he wouldn't allow that.
Even if Frank didn't live to see Ian graduate, his dying wish would be to tell Fiona never to let Ian enlist like that.
Beyond the three older kids, the three younger ones also caused their own concerns.
Debbie was the least troublesome—Frank's little sweetheart. Even at a young age, she was more mature than her brothers. Girls tended to develop emotionally faster anyway.
Still, because of their rough home life, Debbie had grown up craving affection. She'd even once tried to kidnap someone else's baby—but that was just a harmless misstep.
Debbie did well in school and was even class president. She might have a shot at college someday.
But she was only in elementary school. Talking about college was a bit premature. Plenty of kids did great in elementary school, only to fall behind in middle or high school. That was normal.
And once Debbie hit puberty and went through her rebellious phase, who knew what might happen?
Carl, on the other hand, was a constant source of worry.
He was the least intelligent of all the kids and had violent tendencies. Frank wasn't even sure he'd make it through high school before dropping out and joining a gang.
Frank's only wish for Carl was simple: don't die in the streets, and don't end up in prison getting raped.
Then there was Liam, the youngest—just two years old.
Liam was the one Frank worried about the most.
Not because of his academics—but because of his skin color.
In this so-called land of "equality" and "diversity," America was anything but friendly to Black people. Discrimination was everywhere.
What made it worse was that Liam was growing up in a white household, not a Black one. He wasn't going to learn the essential survival skills that Black kids needed.
Yes, in America, being Black meant you had to learn how to survive.
The most important of those skills? Knowing how to deal with the police.
Police treated white people and Black people completely differently.
When dealing with whites, even if they're holding dangerous weapons, officers are usually calm—warning them repeatedly, hesitant to take action. For white folks, the phrase "Call the police if there's trouble" actually means something.
But when it came to Black people, police acted like they were facing terrorists. Even a slight movement, even a hint of noncompliance, and they'd "feel threatened" and shoot without hesitation. And they'd face no consequences.
That's why Black kids in America must learn how to navigate that reality. If you can avoid calling the police, don't call them.
Otherwise, you might be the victim calling for help—only to be mistaken for the perp and arrested. And if you try to resist or explain, you might get shot on the spot.
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