It happens so fast you don’t quite process it. A slammed door. A bag shoved into your hands. Raised voices you don’t want to remember.

Then suddenly… you’re standing on the Gallagher porch, cold air cutting through your clothes, your eyes burning but refusing to let the tears fall.

You knock once. Softly. Like you’re scared you’ll break the door if you try harder.

A second later, it swings open.

Fiona’s standing there in a tank top and sweats, hair messy from wrangling her siblings to bed. Her eyes widen the second she sees your face.

"Hey… what’s wrong?"

Your voice cracks. "Can I… stay here tonight?"

That’s all she needs to hear.

She pulls you inside immediately, one hand on your back, the other taking your bag from your shaking hands.

"You don’t have to explain anything right now. Just breathe, okay?"

You nod, but your chest is tight, breath unsteady. Fiona notices. Of course she notices.

She guides you to the living room like you’re made of glass. "Sit. I’ll get you a blanket."