The prison was a haul.
It was past three in the afternoon.
The bus screeched to a halt. Fiona, having spent the ride listening to the horror stories of the inmates sitting next to her, was already terrified. Gritting her teeth, she shuffled off the bus in line, heading toward the prison intake.
It didn't take long.
Processing began.
Fiona was led by a burly female guard into an open stall off the hallway. Following orders, she stood still, trembling.
"Strip," the guard barked aggressively.
Fiona's body was shaking so hard she couldn't stop. It took her a long while to fumble her clothes off, leaving her in just her underwear.
"Panties and bra too," the guard ordered.
Fiona didn't know it would go this far. Her eyes widened in panic, and she instinctively glanced toward the open area where other inmates were still filing in.
In two seconds, Fiona's face flushed a deep, burning crimson.
"Don't make me ask twice," the guard snapped, losing patience.
Fiona didn't dare disobey. Biting her lip, she complied.
She was naked.
"Open your mouth. Lift your tongue. Pull your lips back," the guard commanded.
Fiona did as she was told, trembling violently.
"Turn around. Face the wall. Show me the bottoms of your feet."
"Bend over. Cough. Cough again."
"Cough... cough!" Tears streamed down Fiona's face as she forced the coughs out.
In this moment, a posture that Fiona—who was certainly no stranger to intimacy—knew all too well, took on a completely different meaning. It was filled with nothing but shame and humiliation.
Fiona couldn't stop crying.
But the worst was yet to come.
"Hold that position," the guard said coldly. She pulled a pair of latex gloves from her pocket, snapped them on, and stepped up behind Fiona to manually check for contraband.
Boom!
The moment she felt the touch, a thunderclap went off in Fiona's brain.
Instantly, bean-sized tears rolled down her cheeks. Her mind went blank. Everything was gone.
Finally, the search was over.
"Alright. Put this on and follow me," the guard said, tossing her a uniform.
A minute or two later.
Dressed in a shit-yellow jumpsuit, physically and mentally shattered, Fiona officially became a number in the women's correctional facility.
---
The Juvenile Detention Center
On the other side of town, Lip and Ian were luckier. They had already been processed into the Juvenile Detention Center (Juvie), starting the first page of their new three-month chapter.
Lip maintained his usual arrogant posture—It's just Juvie, I can handle this in my sleep.
Ian, however, was a wreck. He was anxious and terrified that the other inmates—murderers, arsonists, and gangbangers—would find out he was gay and beat him to a pulp.
"Ian, chill out. I'm here. It's fine. It's just three months," Lip said confidently, trying to calm his brother down.
Just then, a guard walked over and shouted, "Philip Gallagher! You got a visitor. Let's go."
Juvie wasn't prison; things were a little looser here. Even though he'd just arrived, Lip still had visitation rights.
Ten minutes later.
Through a thick pane of glass, Lip saw his visitor: Karen.
Karen gave Lip a stiff, awkward smile.
Lip smiled back, looking as casual as ever.
They sat down and picked up the phones.
"How are you? You holding up?" Karen asked, feigning deep concern.
Lip chuckled. "I'm good. It is what it is. Just think of it as a three-month vacation."
"Don't get cocky. Keep your head down, don't start trouble," Karen said warmly.
Lip grinned, not wanting to dwell on it. He changed the subject. "Yeah, yeah. Why aren't you at school? What are you doing here?"
Hearing this, Karen cranked the acting up to eleven. Her expression grew complicated.
She hesitated for several seconds before speaking. "There's something I need to tell you..."
Lip sensed something was off. "What is it? Just say it."
"I... I took a test this morning. I'm pregnant," Karen said, deliberately stumbling over her words.
Lip's smile vanished instantly. He couldn't laugh this one off. His eyes widened, and he instinctively asked, "Is it mine?"
Hearing that, Karen immediately looked at Lip with shocked disbelief. She held the look for a few seconds, then let out a disappointed laugh. "What kind of girl do you think I am? Who else do I sleep with without a condom besides you? Forget it. Pretend I didn't say anything. Take care of yourself in there."
Delivering the 'disappointed' speech in one breath, Karen didn't hesitate. She slammed the phone back onto the receiver and stood up to leave.
Seeing this, Lip—who valued family above everything else—panicked.
"Karen!! No, wait! Let's talk! Don't go!" he yelled.
Karen was smart. She knew Dexter's goal was to inflict maximum psychological damage on Lip.
So, ignoring Lip's desperate shouts, she got up and walked away without looking back.
Lip couldn't handle it. He jumped up, his manic, aggressive side taking over. He slammed his fist against the glass, screaming, "Karen! Come back!!"
That kind of behavior doesn't fly in lockup.
The guards saw it and immediately rushed Lip, grabbing him.
Lip already looked down on this place, and now, with the bomb Karen just dropped... he was spiraling.
He fought back. Struggling against the guards, he roared, "Get off me! Get the fuck off me!"
The guards weren't there to babysit. Faced with resistance, one of them whipped out a baton without a word and swung it hard at Lip.
Whack! Whack! Whack!
Merciless strikes.
Lip yelled in pain and was beaten to the ground.
In the visitor's area, Karen turned around, watching with a look of feigned 'horror'...
Moments later, Karen was escorted out by the guards.
Meanwhile, Lip was dragged away toward the cells like a dead dog by two officers.
Even as he was being dragged, the manic Lip kept screaming, "Karen!!"
As Karen walked out, she felt a twinge of regret.
If I had filmed that, Dexter would have been so happy. I bet I could have squeezed more money out of him.
Karen thought silently to herself.
---
Dexter's POV
After settling the bill with Hernando and exchanging some pleasantries, Dexter walked him out of the restaurant. He headed to the fruit stand, got in his car, and drove to Teddy's place.
After paying Teddy, Dexter got back in the car, stretched, and lit a cigarette. He thought for a moment, then hit the gas, heading toward Patrick Gallagher's house.
Why?
To case the joint.
And then, tonight, blow Patrick and his family to hell.
Remote-controlled bombs are so handy, Dexter thought with a smile as he drove, imagining the spectacle of Patrick's house exploding in the night.
Twenty minutes later.
Dexter arrived. He didn't get out of the car. He carefully observed Patrick's house and the surrounding area.
He took his time.
Once he had a plan for where to plant the bomb, Dexter drove off, heading toward the Gallagher house.
---