It's blowing up already...
Fiona muttered the words silently, her emotions a complicated mess. She couldn't help but think about the money Veronica was making at Dex Restaurant.
That's just how people are. You don't want your best friend to be living in poverty, but you're also terrified of them doing too well.
Fiona sniffled. The more she looked at the phone, the worse she felt, so she decided to stop torturing herself and put it away.
Suddenly, her phone buzzed.
It was Carl's teacher.
The teacher didn't waste time on small talk; she got straight to the point—Carl had skipped class.
Fiona felt a headache coming on instantly. She apologized profusely and promised to find Carl immediately.
After hanging up, she rubbed her forehead helplessly. It wasn't the skipping class that bothered her so much as the worry that he was out causing trouble alone. Her first instinct was to call Veronica and ask her to check if Carl was at home.
But her finger froze over the screen.
The harsh reality hit her: Veronica wasn't just hanging around the house most of the day anymore. She was working, making big money.
Heh.
Fiona put the phone down without dialing.
She had known, intellectually, that things would change once Veronica got that job. But thinking it and living it were two different things.
Now, the reality was staring her in the face.
She wanted to cry.
She finished her lunch in grim silence, made sure Liam was fed, and took a deep breath. She knew it was unprofessional to ask for time off on her first day back, but Carl's safety came first. She bit the bullet and approached the shift manager.
The manager frowned immediately. "Fiona, are you kidding me?"
"I'm sorry, I know it looks bad, but my brother isn't at school and nobody knows where he is..." Fiona explained humbly, practically begging. "He might have been hit by a car or something. I have to find him."
The manager knew the situation at Fiona's house; she used to work here and had called out often for family drama.
He stayed silent for two seconds, then sighed heavily. "Fiona, I know you have it rough. But I stuck my neck out to get you back on the schedule. You've been here half a day and you're already leaving? I don't own this place."
"If you keep this up, I won't be able to save your job even if I want to. You get that, right?"
Fiona listened patiently. She knew exactly what he meant. She nodded subserviently, trying to appease him. "I know, I'm so, so sorry..."
The manager didn't want to hear anymore excuses; he'd heard them all before. He cut her off. "Forget it. Just go. But if this happens again, I suggest you look for another job."
Thump.
Fiona's heart sank. The urge to cry almost broke through the dam.
But she gritted her teeth, held it back, and quickly said, "Thank you. Thank you."
The manager didn't respond.
Fiona swallowed her tears, grabbed Liam, and rushed out to find Carl.
---
Carl pushed Frank out of the South Side and into a bustling street on the West Side. They set up their begging operation in a high-traffic spot.
You had to hand it to them—Carl's age combined with Frank's acting was a killer combo.
Within half an hour, the large plastic cup in front of them already had over twenty bucks in it.
Just then, a wealthy-looking middle-aged woman approached. She looked at the pair, pity written all over her face.
"You poor things," she said. She opened her purse, pulled out a ten-dollar bill, and bent down to put it in the cup on the ground.
Carl's eyes widened instantly.
The reason was simple.
The woman had a large chest, a low neckline, and a very loose top.
When she bent over...
Whoa.
Carl was getting an eyeful. It was glorious.
"Thank you, God bless you. You're only getting younger and more beautiful," Frank said. He had obviously noticed Carl's reaction and quickly nudged him. "Carl, say thank you."
Carl was too busy enjoying the view to hear a word Frank said.
Seeing this, Frank gave the woman a pained, apologetic smile. "I'm sorry. His mother abused him when he was little... his brain isn't quite right..."
Frank turned the acting dial up to eleven, sounding heartbreakingly sincere.
The woman couldn't handle the sob story. She immediately reached into her purse again while comforting Frank. "You work so hard. Hang in there, things will get better."
In the blink of an eye, Carl got another look. Glorious.
Frank was pretty happy too, though for a different reason.
Frank was happy because this woman had more money than sense.
"I hope so," Frank said, keeping up the act.
A moment later, the woman turned and left.
Frank watched her walk away, then reached out and smacked Carl on the back of the head to snap him out of it. "Nice view, huh?"
Carl grinned. "Heh, yeah. Real nice."
"I've got a mission for you. That woman is a total cash cow. Follow her, see where she parked. We're gonna score big on this one!" Frank said excitedly.
"Okay!" Carl didn't overthink it. He agreed and took off running.
Frank chuckled as he watched him go.
Definitely not the sharpest tool in the shed, Frank thought. He reached for the plastic cup and deftly pocketed more than half the cash.
Fifty-fifty split?
Yeah, right!
Giving Carl ten percent would be generous.
Frank grinned wickedly.
---
Fiona rushed home.
Frank wasn't there. She immediately called Kevin at the Alibi Room.
Kevin told her Frank and Carl weren't there.
Fiona racked her brain. She remembered Carl talking about Dexter's food nonstop since last night. He kept saying he wanted to go back...
After hesitating for a few seconds, she called Veronica. "V, are Carl and Frank at the restaurant?"
"No," Veronica sounded confused. "Why? Did Carl skip school?"
Hearing this, Vivian—who was reading a book after the lunch rush—looked up and blinked. "Veronica, Carl was here around noon, but he didn't come inside."
Fiona and Veronica both paused. "????"
"What do you mean? Tell me exactly what happened," Veronica asked Vivian.
Vivian didn't waste time and explained the situation.
Fiona heard it clearly over the phone. "So, Carl went to your place after school, hung around outside for a bit, then went home and took Frank..."
Fiona analyzed the timeline and realized exactly what was happening. "Thanks, V. I know what's going on. You get back to work, I'll go find them."
Hearing this, Veronica instinctively wanted to say, 'I'll help you look.'
But the words stuck in her throat. She remembered Dexter's rules and glanced at him working in the kitchen nearby. She had to swallow the offer. "Okay. Let me know when you find him."
"..." Fiona was silent for a moment. "Yeah."
Things really had changed.
In the past, she definitely would have offered to help look.
Fiona felt a sudden, dazed sense of loss.