Shane's outburst plunged the basement into a deathly silence.
Fiona opened her mouth, but the rebuke on the tip of her tongue was forcibly swallowed back.
The fire of anger in her chest suddenly lost its fuel, leaving only a chest full of bitterness churning.
Didn't she want her family to have a better life?
She didn't want to be so anxious that she couldn't sleep every day, staring at the increasing number of overdue notices on the fridge; she didn't want to spin like a top, desperately working part-time jobs; she didn't want to carry the entire burden of the family and her younger siblings on her shoulders alone, while also occasionally cleaning up Frank's messes.
Deep down, Fiona loathed this dirty money. But what made her feel even more powerless was that she knew clearly that this damn stolen money could immediately solve most of the immediate practical problems.
At this moment, Lip, standing on the side, looked at the still-agitated Shane, then at Fiona, whose expression was fluctuating, and finally stepped forward to break the silence.
He first said to Fiona: "Shane has a point, Fiona."
"There are risks, but not as exaggerated as you think. Those guys can't even protect themselves right now; whether they can escape is a question. Even if someone remembers and comes back to look for it later, there are no cameras on that street. Everyone ran away when the gunshots rang out. There were no witnesses; it's impossible for them to know who took it."
Lip picked up a few stacks of bills and weighed them in his hand:
"This money looks like enough to pay off the gas bill for the whole winter and the overdue electricity bill in one go. It can stop us from scratching our heads like idiots every month trying to scrape together the electricity bill. I think if we throw this tangible benefit back because of a one-in-ten-thousand chance of fear, that would be truly stupid."
Lip's analysis gave the wavering Fiona a way out.
Then, Lip turned his head and looked at Shane.
"Brother, what you did was indeed fcking dangerous. But I also have to say, asking you to take this bag back now feels more dangerous than us keeping it."
"Lip!"
Fiona glared at Lip angrily but didn't refute him.
Lip shrugged: "I didn't say I support him going out on the street to 'pick up' money every week. But it's already happened."
He turned directly to Shane, cutting to the chase: "How much is in the bag total?"
"Four thousand three hundred and eighty-four," Shane blurted out.
"I originally planned to give you guys four thousand and keep the remaining three hundred or so as my own funds. But seeing you guys like this now... use it all for the family. I have savings."
He showed a bit of concession and sacrifice at the right time.
Lip nodded: "That works too."
Surprisingly, Fiona's shift came extremely fast.
But this was her strong adaptability and pragmatism as the "actual helmsman" of the Gallagher family.
After her mindset shifted, she reached out and gathered the pile of money together, starting to plan quickly:
"Alright. So now, this four thousand dollars,"
"We'll pay the gas and electricity bills for the next few months first; we still owe two months on the gas bill. Then we'll stock up on some meat and fill the fridge. And see if we can replace that damn dripping faucet... okay?"
She subconsciously asked for Shane's opinion; after all, he was the "source" of the money.
Shane waved his hand, looking like he was at her disposal: "Whatever, I leave it all to you guys. You handle it."
"And the most important thing," Fiona knocked on the table, pointing to the remaining items in the sack, "Except for the money, you flush everything else down the sewer immediately, right now! Not a trace can be left!"
Shane nodded: "Done. I wanted to flush it originally, but I was afraid you wouldn't believe me, so I kept a little as evidence on purpose."
"One last thing," Fiona added fiercely, "If! Something similar happens in the future, and you dare to bring back any inexplicable bag from the street again... I will kick you directly out of this house! I swear!"
After saying these harsh words, her eyes became very complicated—there was anger, lingering fear, and an indescribable heartache.
But Fiona took a deep breath, forcing the atmosphere back to the "problem-solving" channel:
"Alright, now let's unify our story. If anyone really knocks on the door and asks one day, we say we saw nothing, and definitely didn't take any bag. Understand?"
Shane nodded: "I understand."
Lip had already leaned back relaxedly, sprawling on Shane's bed, also waving a stack of bills with a satisfied smile on his face:
"Tsk, at least we won't freeze this winter."
...
After dinner, a rare scene appeared in the Gallagher living room.
Except for Liam, who had already been coaxed to sleep, everyone else gathered in front of the TV.
Debbie and Carl were fighting over the remote control car. Shane, Fiona, and Lip sat side by side on the sofa, which was rare.
Ian was sitting cross-legged on the floor; he didn't have the night shift at the convenience store today.
But he noticed that Shane didn't dive into the basement to fiddle with his videos after eating like usual, Fiona surprisingly didn't rush to her part-time job or seize the time to catch up on sleep, and even Lip didn't nest upstairs.
The three of them just sat on the sofa, watching the local Chicago news channel. The screen was scrolling through boring community news and weather forecasts.
Ian couldn't help his curiosity and asked: "I say... what's wrong with you guys tonight? Collective personality change? Did you discover a serial killer's hideout, or is someone in our family on a wanted list?"
"Nothing. Just almost got grazed by a stray bullet on the way back today. I wanted to see which gang has the guts to shoot at the police in broad daylight."
Shane made up a random reason to brush it off.
Ian's eyes widened: "Oh! I heard customers in the store talking about it. There was indeed a big chase in the South Side this afternoon, quite a commotion. Are you okay then?" His look at Shane held a bit more concern.
"If I wasn't okay, you'd be picking out a coffin for me," Shane replied.
Fiona, sitting next to him, twitched her eyes and glared at Shane, clearly unhappy with him joking about himself.
Shane didn't want to chat more on this topic. Just then, he suddenly sat up straight and pointed at the TV screen: "Look! The report is starting!"
The TV screen switched, the background showing blurred police cars and cordon lines.
The report was very brief:
"...Chicago police conducted a successful enforcement operation in the South Side today, destroying a den of a long-active local drug trafficking gang. During the pursuit, suspects fired at police vehicles. Currently, no officers were injured."
"Eventually, the suspect vehicle lost control at an intersection, crashing into a roadside guardrail. Three suspects were arrested on the spot..."
"Police seized approximately one kilogram of suspected cocaine and tens of thousands of dollars in cash from the vehicle. Preliminary judgment links the gang to some recent drug transactions in the South Side. Police appeal to citizens with leads to call—"
Below were the familiar police hotline, police station logo, and the cliché "please stay vigilant."
No street interviews, no video of picking up a bag at the alley entrance, no words like "witnesses say a teenager appeared at the scene."
Just these few sentences, and it was passed over.
It was quickly broadcasted, then cut to the next news item about municipal construction.
Fiona breathed a silent sigh of relief, her tense shoulders relaxing.
She stood up and said slightly wearily: "Alright, knowing which bastard gang almost hurt you is enough. I'm going up to catch up on sleep. Don't call me unless it's important."
She needed to be alone to digest this thrilling day.
Lip also stood up. "I'm going back upstairs too." Although he acted indifferent in the basement, his steps were much lighter now.
Carl and Debbie were also told to go take a shower, and the living room suddenly became quiet.