Shane's gaze fell once again on the two white "bricks."
"This stuff, I definitely can't touch it right now." He was very clear-headed and wouldn't dream of selling it directly to make a fortune.
Those guys had just dumped the goods; their gang members or the police were likely searching for it with all their might.
If he foolishly took it out to sell directly, that would truly be an old man eating arsenic—tired of living.
Moreover, he had no sales channels, so rashly trying to sell it would be a dead end.
"Destroy it directly," Shane thought to himself. He decided to flush it all down the sewer.
"To avoid trouble, destroy it directly."
...
Shane spent some time flushing the two "white bricks" down the sewer bit by bit...
Then, he went to the basement, took the groceries he had bought as cover, and returned to the first-floor living room.
"Bought it anyway, might as well use it for dinner." And after all this fuss, it was indeed getting late.
He estimated that by the time he finished cooking, the others in the family should be coming back one after another.
Sure enough, just as Shane was busy at the stove, the door lock turned.
The first one back was Fiona.
She walked in carrying the cold air from outside, exhaustion on her face. Seeing Shane already preparing dinner, a look of comfort appeared on her face.
"Yo," she asked while taking off her coat:
"Is the project for your 'little gym' finished? So early today. How do you feel? Do you have confidence in your video plan?"
Shane answered without looking back as he cut the meat: "It's in the bag! Before long, you'll see your brother sleeping at home while money falls from the sky!"
Fiona was amused by him, shook her head, her tone lighter: "Alright, well, I'm looking forward to that day."
She put away the food she bought after work, naturally rolled up her sleeves, and came over to help Shane with dinner.
The two hadn't been busy for long when the door opened again. This time it was Lip who returned.
Shane saw that the food was almost ready, so it was time to resolve the "source" of this money, especially since no other members were back yet.
He understood Fiona; she was the pillar of this family and the guardian most afraid of any uncontrollable risks appearing.
If the source of the money wasn't explained clearly, making her feel the money was "dirty" or would bring trouble, she would never agree to use it.
Although this behavior seemed somewhat redundant in the context of the South Side, her starting point was always for this family to survive.
Shane turned off the stove, washed his hands, and said to Fiona and Lip, who were about to disperse:
"Hey, you two, don't rush upstairs yet. Come with me to the basement for a sec; I have something to tell you."
He looked at them, his expression rarely this serious.
Fiona and Lip stopped at the same time, exchanged a puzzled glance, and both saw bafflement on each other's faces.
"What can't be said here?" Fiona subconsciously frowned. As the eldest sister, her first reaction was always vigilance and worry.
In the Gallagher house, "private talk in the basement" often meant trouble, or bad news they didn't want Carl, Debbie, and the others to hear.
Lip crossed his arms, not showing much surprise. He was more inclined to believe Shane was being mysterious, but didn't rule out something actually "interesting":
"Whoa, so formal?" He spoke fast. "What, finally decided to confess that your muscles are actually a biochemical product leaked from a lab? Or did you dig up a treasure map Frank hid under the bed?"
Although their reactions were different, both were piqued (and worried) by Shane's sudden seriousness, and both followed him to the stairs leading to the basement.
...
The three walked down the stairs and squeezed into Shane's basement bedroom.
The cramped space made the already somewhat tense atmosphere even heavier.
Shane didn't beat around the bush. He bent down directly, dragged out the sack from under the bed, placed it on the old desk, and opened the bag directly.
Stacks of green US dollars were exposed without concealment under the dim light, looking particularly glaring.
"Holy sht! Shane!"
Fiona's eyes went wide, sucking in a breath of cold air. "Where... where did you get this from again?!"
Her fingers trembled slightly as she pointed at the pile of money, her tone becoming sharp, "What the hell did you do?! Don't tell me you 'picked it up.' I don't believe a word of that crap!"
Lip didn't speak immediately, but his eyes were fixed on Shane's face, trying to read the truth from his subtle expressions.
"Calm down, Fiona, let me finish!" Shane raised his hands in a placating gesture.
"That commotion on the street this afternoon, police chasing some gang members, did you hear about it? ...Well, I guess news doesn't travel that fast."
He simplified the process, omitting the gunfight part, just describing it simply:
"...Anyway, those guys were in a hurry to run, panicking, and this bag fell out of their car and rolled to my feet. The police were chasing tight at the time, so they just left. There was no one around me, so I brought it back. I promise, I took a lot of detours, was very careful, absolutely no one followed me."
Upon hearing this, Fiona didn't relax but completely bristled:
"Are you crazy, Shane?! You picked up money from gang members?! Do you know how dangerous that is?! What if someone saw you?! What if those people remember and come back for it later?! This isn't picking up a wallet; this is playing with fire! This money is tainted with trouble, tainted with blood! We can't use it! Absolutely not!"
Her voice was full of fear. What Fiona feared most was this kind of "accident" causing the family to be dragged into uncontrollable danger.
Lip on the side didn't echo Fiona.
He looked at Shane and confirmed: "Are you sure? You really picked this up? ...Not being kept by some sugar mama?"
His suspicion was more "pragmatic."
Shane pointed to the sack: "Dig in and see for yourself; there are 'free gifts' underneath."
Lip stepped forward, pushed aside the surface bills, and his fingers touched something.
"Oh, shit..."
Lip's mouth twitched. "This is really... classic gang style."
This discovery confirmed Shane's story of "gang leftovers."
But Fiona still insisted; she couldn't accept money from this source.
"Listen to me. Right now, immediately, put this bag back where you found it! We'll pretend nothing ever happened!"
She demanded firmly, with a commanding tone.
"Are you crazy?" Shane retorted. "If I take this bag back now, isn't that clearly telling them 'I am the suspect'?"
"Then you shouldn't have picked it up in the first place!" Fiona shouted back. "Do you know what this means? If someone saw you take the bag, if those people remembered you, if the police find this place..."
She listed several "ifs" in one breath, getting more and more emotional:
"We have a bunch of minors in this house. Do you want social services to come to the door tomorrow and take all the kids away?! Do you think they'll listen to your explanation that 'it was picked up'?!"
Looking at Fiona's now somewhat pale face, and thinking of how she worked herself to death for this family every day, Shane couldn't hold back either:
"Yes! This money is dirty! I know! But when I took it, no one saw! No cameras captured it! I came home, and no one followed! I was careful enough!"
He stared at Fiona and said seriously:
"I've just had enough! Fiona!"
"I've had enough of us worrying about electricity and gas bills every month! I've had enough of you working three jobs a day, coming back tired like a dog! I've had enough of our family having to calculate carefully just to eat a decent meal of meat, looking at people's faces!"
"I just want our family to have it a little better, even just a little bit! What's wrong with that?! This money is right here; it can solve many of our problems! Why can't we use it?!"