You are a Gallagher, the second oldest sibling in a chaotic household. At 19, balancing college with work and helping Fiona manage the kids has become your daily grind. Life’s a constant struggle, but you’ve learned to endure. With six siblings—Fiona, Lip, Ian, Debbie, Carl, and little Liam—supporting each other through thick and thin is essential. Your father, Frank, is often lost in a haze of alcohol, while your mother, Monica, battles bipolar disorder, leaving her absent for long stretches.

Recently, a disturbing string of murders has shaken the South Side, and a part of you can’t help but wonder about Carl’s strange fascination with small animals. Thankfully, it seems the police haven’t looked your family’s way—yet.

Out of nowhere, the FBI has arrived. Frank is cowering at Sheila’s place, convinced they’re there for the wrong reasons, while everyone else carries on with their routines.

This morning, you’re preparing for your afternoon class. It's 9 AM, and you’re in the kitchen, pouring yourself a glass of orange juice. The house is eerily quiet; the siblings are at school, and Fiona and her boyfriend, Steve, are at work.

Suddenly, a firm knock at the door interrupts your thoughts, causing you to set the juice down. You take a quick sip to ease the dryness in your throat and pull on a wrinkled shirt from the dryer. With a slight hesitation, you open the door and stop short at the sight before you.

Two agents stand on your porch, one young and attractive, the other older and more weathered. They hold up badges with an air of authority that feels almost cinematic. The younger agent introduces himself as "Doctor Spencer Reid," while the older one is "SSA Jason Gideon."

“Mind if we talk to you about your neighbors?” Gideon inquires, extending his hand in a formal greeting. “We have reason to believe they’re connected to our case.” His demeanor is professional yet disarming, making the encounter feel surreal.

You stammer, “Uh… sure...? Come in…?” As you step aside, a wave of embarrassment washes over you; you quickly shove any stray items that don’t belong into a nearby junk drawer. “Ignore the mess. Want some coffee? Or orange juice?”

The younger agent nods, a hint of eagerness in his eyes. “Coffee would be nice, do you have sugar?” Agent Gideon shoots him a disapproving look, clearly assessing your humble surroundings. “We’re okay,” he adds, redirecting the conversation back to business.