Evening. The sun was gradually setting in the west.
Outside the hospital's back door.
Samantha and Frank cursed together for a good while before finally stopping.
Then, Samantha helped Frank up.
Frank looked at Samantha, genuinely confused. "Why did you come back?"
Samantha, starved for affection, smiled at Frank's question. "You are my biological dad after all. And for so many years, I've always wanted to find you. I want to know you."
"So, forget about what happened before. I don't blame you. I want to get to know you properly and take care of you."
To Frank, the first part of her speech was all bullshit.
Only the words "take care of you" had any meaning.
Frank's eyes lit up. He felt Samantha had value again, so he put on a good attitude. "I was wrong too. I shouldn't have lied to you..."
The father and daughter talked for a bit, effectively burying the hatchet. By the end, they even managed to smile.
"My other kids, except for Debbie, don't care about me now that they know I'm dying. You're better than them," Frank said with a smile. "If I had known this, I should have come to find you sooner."
Samantha shook her head. "It's not too late now. I'm very happy you came to find me. I'll take good care of you."
They exchanged a few more words as the sky grew darker.
"Let's go back first. We'll talk more when we get there," Frank suggested.
The four of them began to move, heading toward the Gallagher house.
---
The Gallagher house was empty.
Ian was out fooling around with Kash. Lip was still wandering around aimlessly, looking for money-making opportunities. Carl was at the shooting range, watching others shoot guns with a face full of excitement, thinking the gunshots sounded super melodious.
Frank returned home and plopped down onto the sofa.
Samantha expressed her concern for a few sentences, then looked around at everything in the house with eyes full of curiosity. "Daddy, why aren't my younger brothers and sisters here?"
"Those little bastards, god knows what they're doing," Frank wanted a drink, but unfortunately, he couldn't have any. "Do you have any weed? My arm hurts too much."
Samantha didn't have any. Hearing this, she immediately said enthusiastically, "I'll go buy some for you. Daddy, what else do you need? What do you want for dinner? I'll buy it all and bring it back."
Frank was indeed a bit hungry, so he unceremoniously started placing his order. "Drugs, lots of drugs, cigarettes..."
Frank rattled off a list.
Samantha was broke too, but she had a little bit of money in her pocket. After listening, she agreed without hesitation. "Okay, I'll go right now."
After speaking, Samantha looked at Debbie. "Debbie, help take care of Chuckie, okay?"
Ever since she failed to get Frank drugs earlier and was ignored by him, Debbie had barely spoken a word up until now. She felt terrible and heartbroken.
Hearing Samantha say this, Debbie nodded dazedly, not even holding a grudge for being yelled at and kicked by Samantha earlier. "Okay."
"Thanks," Samantha replied with a smile. Without saying more, she scrambled off.
In the Gallagher living room.
Debbie looked at the slow-witted Chuckie. She stared for a few seconds, unsure how to handle the situation in front of her. After hesitating again and again, she decided to go find Fiona.
She turned on the TV, told Chuckie to watch it obediently, and then walked quickly toward the back door.
Frank lay paralyzed on the sofa, completely unconcerned, not even glancing at Debbie.
---
Inside Jimmy's rented house.
Jimmy, Fiona, and Liam were eating dinner.
Thump, thump, thump~~
A knock on the door sounded.
Jimmy consciously went to open the door. Seeing Debbie, he immediately smiled and greeted her. "Debbie, good evening. Come on in, have dinner with us."
Debbie's mind was a chaotic mess. She nodded, didn't make a sound, walked into the house, and only found her voice when she reached Fiona.
"Daddy came home. Samantha brought her son too. Samantha's blood type doesn't match Frank's, so she can't donate part of her liver to him..."
"Frank is really going to die..."
Fiona actually hadn't forgotten about Frank being discharged tonight; she just genuinely didn't want to pick him up or deal with it.
At this moment, looking at Debbie in this state, Fiona was silent for a short while. "Debbie, I understand that you're still young and you think you like Frank."
"But, that's purely because of your age. If you were a little older and realized what kind of scumbag Frank is, you wouldn't feel this way."
Listening to this, Debbie's eyes gradually turned red. She didn't speak, just staring at Fiona.
Fiona sighed silently and added, "Debbie, forget about Frank. Since he found Samantha, let Samantha deal with his issues."
Debbie's lips moved. "He's dying..."
"He should have died a long time ago," Fiona replied.
"Why do you have to be so cold-blooded? No matter what, he's your dad," Debbie couldn't understand. Her voice was choked with sobs. After speaking, she turned and walked away.
"Debbie..." Fiona called out subconsciously, but that was all. She didn't get up, and she didn't say anything more.
Debbie left, crying as she returned to the Gallagher house. In her small, naive head, there were too many things she couldn't comprehend.
---
Dex Restaurant.
It was almost closing time.
Mickey and Carl walked in and found a table to sit at.
Since they were Dexter's employees, as long as the restaurant door was open and Dexter was there, they weren't affected by business hours.
Soon, they each ordered dinner.
Subsequently, after glancing at Bianca not far away, Mickey thought for a moment, got up, and walked toward the kitchen.
Dexter was busy in the kitchen preparing dinner for himself and Bianca. Seeing Mickey walk in, he smiled habitually. "Busy today?"
Mickey nodded. "It was okay. A few dumbasses who hadn't really touched guns before, but no major problems."
"That's good," Dexter replied. He looked at Mickey again, feeling like Mickey had something on his mind. "Looking for me for something?"
"Yeah, a little something," Mickey nodded again.
"Shoot," Dexter was brief and direct.
Mickey hesitated for a moment. "I want to talk to you about the Gallagher family stuff. Ian called me last night. What he said was pretty much the same as what Carl told you at lunch."
Hearing Ian's name, Dexter couldn't help but want to laugh a little.
There was no helping it; it was just too amusing.
The Milkovich family, known for their ferocity... how did they produce a pair of die-hard romantic siblings like Mickey and Mandy?
One had to know, the story of Mickey and Ian had indeed been going on for quite a while by today.
Moreover, Ian had already moved on a great deal—first Ned, then Kash...
As a result, Mickey still couldn't move on.
Dexter smiled and shook his head. "So? You want to ask if I did it?"
Hearing this, Mickey shook his head decisively. "What I want to say is, although Ian is a Gallagher, he doesn't have any major issues... He shouldn't have any trouble, right?"
Tsk tsk.
Mickey, who could barely read a few big words, had really improved a lot. He had become quite tactful.
The smile on Dexter's face instantly grew thicker. "First of all, Ian barely counts as a normal person. Since he's normal, how could he be in trouble?"
"Secondly, Mickey, you have to learn to move on."