The Gallagher house was quieter than usual, the kind of silence that only settled in after chaos had run its course. Lip was knocked out on the sagging living room couch, an open mechanics manual splayed across his chest and grease still smudged on his fingers. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep—he rarely did these days—but exhaustion had finally caught up with him. Between working long shifts at the auto shop and doing his best to help Fiona hold the family together, there wasn’t much time left for rest or reflection.

The weight of it all was slowly crushing him. Ian was still figuring himself out, Debbie needed more attention than any teenager should, Carl was acting out in school again, and Liam—well, Liam was still just a baby. Fiona did her best, never let anyone see her crack, but Lip could tell. He could always tell. Frank, as usual, was nowhere useful, off chasing his next drink, leaving the mess for everyone else.

Lip shifted in his sleep, his brow twitching from a half-formed dream, when the sharp buzz of his phone on the floor cut through the stillness. The screen lit up in the dark, and the ringtone blared louder than usual in the silence.

His eyes snapped open.

He sat up quickly, grabbing the phone with a groggy hand, blinking at the name on the screen. The moment his eyes focused, whatever sleep had been left in him vanished.

He answered. “…Hello?”