★

WAKING UP TO THE sound of a spatula scraping against a frying pan was not a common occurrence in the Gilbert household. Most of the time they were either too busy to cook actual breakfast—so they'd go next door and steal some that Fiona had made—or Amara would be the one making eggs, while Silvia would be the one getting woken up because of it. So when Amara heard dishes clattering from downstairs, she shot up in her bed, and felt panic bubble up in her chest.

Whether it was her mother or her sister cooking something in the kitchen—it wasn't going to be good either way. She quickly pulled on a shirt, and bolted out of her room, her footsteps padding loudly against the hardwood floors, before she abruptly stopped once she reached the bottom of the steps. She was sure the look of confusion was painted across her face as she stared at a face she vaguely recognized from when she was younger.

The woman was much heavier now, and her hair had a lot more gray than brown in it, not to mention the shortness in length. Silvia blabbered on to the woman, completely oblivious to her older sister's presence as she shoved a piece of hash brown into her mouth.

Gloria Gilbert was the first to notice her standing in the stairway, and her face broke out into a welcoming smile, showing off her crooked teeth. "Well, good morning to you. My, my. You've grown up quite a bit."

"Yeah, well it's been twelve years since you've last been here," Amara replied, still frozen from her spot.

"You look ravishing, darling. How old are you now? Sixteen?"

"Eighteen."

"Eighteen? Wow, time really does fly."

"Grandma was just telling me about the time you peed in a cup and poured it on a boy at school," Silvia stated with a grin, and Amara immediately frowned.

"Don't tell her stuff like that. We already have bad parents as it is. She doesn't need to go around and follow my old bad habits. Also, go get ready. Daycare is staring today."

"It is?" Silvia perked up instantly, and quickly abandoned her meal to rush up the stairs, brushing past Amara before she was out of sight. The brunette turned back to her grandmother with her arms crossed over her chest.

"What are you doing here? And I want an answer. Not some bullshit like you pulled out of your ass the last time you came to stay with us."

Gloria sighed, and the scraping of the spatula stopped as she looked towards her. "You know I tried very hard with your father while he was growing up. He was always a pain, but eventually when your mom came into his life everything switched around. She really brought out the best in him. I don't know where it went wrong..."

"I asked what you're doing here, not for my parents' love story."

"I'm getting to it," she said a little sharply. "The first time your father left, he came to me all drugged up—spewing some shit about how your mother had done horrible things to him. Kicked him out of the house, forbade him from seeing you and Silvia. Of course, I believed it. He was my son, why wouldn't I? Honestly, I thought it had to do with your mother's recent pregnancy, he left only a few months after Silvia was born anyway."

"Still don't understand what this has to do with you being here," Amara stated dryly.

"All right, fine. I'll speed up the process for your impatient ass. Basically, I believed every word that came from his mouth, and I allowed him to live with me. But last year when he said he wanted to make amends, his story didn't exactly add up, and I started to question him on it. He didn't tell me the truth, but I figured it out regardless. Last summer when he came here, I knew that he hadn't been the victim. And now that he's gone again...Well I know your mother hasn't been the same since he left, and I know you're struggling with the bills. You're a teenage girl taking care of yourself and your sister in this house."

"So what? You're here to help? We don't need your pity."

"It's not pity, dear," Gloria assured. "I've realized that I haven't been the best grandmother. My last time staying here shows that much. And I'm sorry, I really am. And I'm here to make-up for my fuck up son's mistakes. Because if he won't take care of his family—I will."

Amara blinked in surprise, but didn't have time to answer as Silvia came bounding down the stairs. "See ya!" And she was gone out the door with a small wave.

Hesitantly, Amara nodded her head. "All right. But if you do anything like you did before-"

"I'm out," Gloria finished. "I know. And I won't. Stealing money from your grandchildren definitely put me back a few hundreds places on the good grandparent podium. I'm hoping me helping you out with the bills and Silvia is enough to get me back into at least the top fifty."

Swallowing, Amara tilted her head towards the stairs. "There's an extra bedroom across the hall from mine. Not much in there, just an air mattress and some junk. I can get one of the boys to help clear it out and put everything into the basement."

"I appreciate it, Amara. Thank you for understanding."

"I have to go to work soon, but, um, do you need anything?"

"No, I'm good. Where do you work?"

"The Alibi—it's a bar. And I'm going to see if I can get my old job back at the ice cream parlor."

"A bar? But you're only eighteen."

"So? The feds won't know that if they walk in. Anyway, I've got to go. You sure you're good?"

"Fine," Gloria smiled warmly at her. "I'm glad you're giving me a second chance."

"Yeah, well," Amara shrugged, starting towards the door. "Don't make me regret it."

★

"Hey," Lip's voice greeted over the phone, and she pulled her purse over her shoulder as she continued down the sidewalk. "We're gonna start up the ice cream truck today. I'm also going to use it to transport someone. You game?"

She faltered, putting the device onto her other ear as she figured out the best way to say her thoughts. "Honestly, Lip, I think I'd be better off slinging ice cream legally. Not that I don't enjoy the thrill of being exposed and imprisoned, but-"

"Ugh," Lip groaned. "You're not gonna go back to that shitshow again, are you? What if that dick James Lewis is there? Forget about him?"

She rolled her eyes even though he couldn't see her. "For one, it's not a shitshow. And secondly James is working for his dad now. He's not going to be there. And if he is, I'll do absolutely nothing because the last time I punched him in the face I broke his nose and got sued."

"Can you please just come with us?" Lip asked. "It won't be the same without you. Plus, when you pull your shirt down we get a lot more customers."

Amara laughed, pausing outside of the ice cream parlor as her mind whirled with her options. "I'll think about it, okay? Oh, I have something to tell you."

"You're not pregnant, right?" Lip sounded panicked, and she shook her head in disbelief.

"We haven't even had sex, dingbrain. Anyway, what I was going to say is that my crackwhore grandma is back in town."

"What?"

"I know, I'll fill you in later."

"Later," came his response, and she closed her phone, sliding it into her pocket before she pulled open the door, and stepped back into the parlor.

"Hi," she grinned at the unfamiliar face standing at the counter. "I'm looking to see if I can get my job back?"

"Name, please?"

"Amara Gilbert."

The girl's name tag read Sydney, and she nodded as she typed some things into the computer. "Oh, you're that Amara."

"That Amara?"

"Yeah, the one who threw bricks through our windows, and hit one of our customers in the head."

Amara's face scrunched up in confusion. "What? I never..." It hit her in that moment, and anger bubbled up in her chest. "James Fucking Lewis. That prick! Oh I swear to God if he wasn't go rich I'd totally beat him to death with a stick." She shot an apologetic look in Sydney's direction, before turning on her heel and marching out of the room. "Goddamned asshole ruining my work life." She flipped open her phone again. "Hey, Lip?"

"Hey. What's up?"

"I'll be there in ten."

★

"Hey bitches!" Amara announced her arrival with a grin, and the two Gallagher brothers glanced up in response, both smiling at her as she dramatically waved her hands. "Where's Kev?"

"Making us do all the heavy lifting because of his foot," Ian answered, and Amara went on the opposite side of him in attempt to help pull off the tarp of the vehicle. "What were you saying? You're visiting a Milkovich sister nobody's ever heard of in Milwaukee?"

Lip grunted, and nodded, much to Amara's confusion. "Correct."

"And you're gonna do what?"

"We are going to evaluate her well-being, and, if need be, rescue her."

"You mean kidnap," Ian pointed out.

"Provide transport to safer haven."

Amara and Ian shared a look, before saying together in unison: "Kidnap."

"Recuse," Lip argued from the other side of the truck, and the three of them pulled off the remaining of the tarp.

"Bad idea."

"Look. A kid is in trouble. We're gonna help."

"Never knew Lip Gallagher had a hero-complex," Amara commented. "It's kinda turning me off."

Lip rolled his eyes with a grin. "Shut up."

"Look," Ian tried to reason as they climbed into the vehicle, and Lip tried to start it. "Crossing state lines with a minor to the Milkovich House of Horrors seems like abuse."

"Yeah, Lip, he's got a point there."

"You two need to stop tag-teaming me," the blonde orders. "And her mother is dead. She's home alone, and she's scared."

"Welcome to the predictable consequences of using crystal meth," Ian stated, and Amara laughed. Lip chuckled as he turned the key in the ignition. The engine rattled loudly, making the trio wince. "Have you ever driven this thing more than four consecutive miles?"

Lip grinned evilly in response, looking back up to them. "No."

Amara groaned with another snicker, and Ian fell onto the passenger seat, while she plopped herself in his lap, ignoring his protests.

"You are heavier than you look," he told her, and she smacked his chest.

"And you act like a bigger dick than you actually have. Shut up, shithead."

★

— AUTHORS NOTE

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