The Gallagher House
Frank woke up because he really had to pee. He opened his eyes, groggy, shook his head a couple of times, and after a moment realized how quiet the house was. Way too quiet. Liam was still in his crib, but everyone else was gone.
"That's weird… where the hell did everybody go?" Frank muttered as he reached out, getting ready to roll his wheelchair toward the bathroom.
That's when the TV—still on—caught his attention.
Frank turned his head toward the screen and paused.
The news was covering what was going on over at the Kamala house.
The truth was, the commotion there was so massive that Loberta's death and Monica being injured had already been pushed completely out of the headlines, reduced to minor footnotes no one cared about anymore.
Frank watched for a bit and started laughing. "I take one nap and this much crap goes down? Man, that's entertaining."
The words had barely left his mouth when the door opened.
Steve walked in.
Seeing him, Frank immediately asked, "Hey, Steve, where'd Fiona and the others go?"
Steve blinked. One look at Frank's half-drunk, just-woke-up face and he instantly understood. "They're all at the hospital. Frank… you seriously don't know what happened?"
"I just woke up. What happened?" Frank asked, confused.
"About half an hour ago, right out on the street in front of the house, Loberta was shot and killed. And Monica…" Steve paused briefly while walking over to Liam, "…she got shot several times too. She's in surgery right now."
The moment the words hit his ears—
Frank's body jolted.
He sobered up instantly.
His very first thought was the settlement money.
"Bob's dead?! What about Monica? She didn't die, right?!"
Steve picked up Liam. Hearing that, he couldn't help thinking that maybe—just maybe—Frank still had a tiny shred of humanity left. He gave a faint smile. "No. She should be fine. The bullets all hit her lower leg."
Frank let out a huge sigh of relief. "Oh, thank God!"
Steve clearly wasn't interested in sticking around. "I'm heading out. I'm taking Liam to the hospital."
Frank didn't respond.
A moment later, Steve was gone.
Slowly, an excited grin spread across Frank's face.
Then he suddenly slapped his thigh. "Hahaha! Serves her right! Serves her right! That settlement money is definitely mine now!!!"
Frank was practically bouncing with excitement, silently thanking whoever it was that took Loberta out.
As for Monica…
Right now, all Frank could think about was that check. He did have feelings for Monica—but not much. Just a tiny bit.
Besides, she wasn't going to die anyway.
Frank was thrilled, practically seeing stacks of cash flying straight into his hands.
---
The Street Outside the Kamala House
The chaos didn't die down.
It got worse.
Way worse.
Some people even started throwing things at the head of DCFS.
Paper cups. Beer bottles. Even rocks. Everything was flying through the air.
The DCFS official had no choice but to duck and dodge like crazy.
Tony and the other cops trying to maintain order were getting headaches too, gritting their teeth as they held the crowd back.
Eventually, the DCFS official disappeared into hiding.
With no target left, the furious crowd shifted focus—and started throwing things at Kamala's body, which was still lying on the ground, not even removed yet.
As things escalated…
No one knew who said it first.
But suddenly, loud and clear, the word "Nigger" cut through the air.
Oh boy.
The next second—
All hell broke loose.
A Black man and a White man started fighting, and in an instant, it exploded into an all-out brawl between the White crowd and the Black crowd.
Seeing this, the Chicago mayor—who had just arrived not long ago—broke out in a cold sweat. He quickly wiped his forehead, grabbed a megaphone from the police chief nearby, and started shouting, trying to calm everyone down.
Unfortunately…
In a racially charged neighborhood like this, with tensions already maxed out and fists already flying, a few shouted words weren't going to stop anything.
The race riot continued—and some people started sprinting back to their houses to grab weapons.
Because let's be real…
This was the projects.
Most of those racists had at least one gun at home.
And as for the Black residents? A lot of them were armed too.
The situation was spiraling out of control.
The mayor's scalp practically went numb.
But panic aside, he acted fast and decisively—calling in reinforcements immediately.
---
"Land of the free, home of daily shootings."
Lying on a hotel bed, Dexter watched the chaos on TV and laughed, that phrase popping into his head.
Honestly, he hadn't expected Kamala's death to trigger something like this.
But clearly, this was the good kind of unexpected.
Because at a moment like this…
Who was still going to care about the killer who took out Kamala?
The police couldn't even investigate properly anymore.
Dexter smiled, watched the news for a bit longer, then closed his eyes and fell asleep.
——
The Hospital
11:40 p.m.
The light outside the operating room went out.
Moments later, the doors opened and two doctors walked out.
Fiona and the others rushed forward.
"Doctor, how's my mom?" Fiona asked anxiously.
"She's no longer in critical condition," one of the doctors replied. "But the bullet shattered the bone in her lower right leg. She'll be permanently disabled."
Hearing that—
Everyone let out a collective sigh of relief.
After something like this, surviving was already a blessing.
Compared to life itself, a disability felt small.
"Thank you. When can we see her?" Fiona asked again.
"You can see her shortly. But if you want to talk to her, that'll have to wait until tomorrow. She was given a heavy dose of anesthesia and won't wake up anytime soon."
"Okay, thank you," Fiona said again.
The doctors said nothing more and hurried off.
"Try not to worry too much," Steve said, pulling Fiona into a hug. "Monica's going to be okay."
Fiona didn't say anything.
At that moment, a few nurses wheeled Monica out of the operating room.
Fiona and the others immediately followed them to the hospital room.
Less than five minutes later—
Someone from the hospital's billing department hurried in, locked eyes on Fiona immediately, and walked over with a cold expression.
They remembered Fiona very clearly.
And they definitely remembered Lip and Ian—the two guys who had skipped out on their hospital bill last time.
"Fiona Gallagher," the billing rep said bluntly, "remember me? How do you plan to pay Monica Gallagher's medical expenses?"
"Also," they added, casting a sharp glance at Lip and Ian, "Philip Gallagher and Ian Gallagher—both of you left without paying last time. You have twenty-four hours to settle your outstanding balance, or the hospital will report it to the police."
Fiona, Lip, and Ian were stunned, completely speechless.
"…."
Just when one disaster ends, another one starts.