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SILVIA WAS MOVING IN with the Gallaghers. After Margot had failed to show up to the apartment inspection for the third time, Amara insisted that she didn't like her sister being alone all the time, especially if she was the only one living in a three bedroom. It was a waste of money. And the Gallaghers were all for picking up people off the streets.
Early morning on a Saturday, Amara had managed to untangle herself from Lip's hold and snuck off a block over to help her sister relocate her items. Carl was more than excited to have her staying with them full time again, he said it was nostalgic.
In a way, Carl and Silvia's relationship somewhat reminded Amara of her and Lip, even though plenty of things about them each were different.
A gunshot sounded loudly from the front yard, Amara nearly dropped the tape in her hand. This was nothing unusual, other than the fact that it was eight am.
Curiously, she and her sister made their way to the front porch. Mickey, Ian, Debbie, and Liam were already out there. Then, the question of what dickhead was firing off gunshots that early made sense. It was Terry. She watched him move items from a junky looking trailer onto the lawn.
"Hey, look," Terry glanced up at them. "Our new neighbors came to welcome us. Even my pansy former son and his stink-dick boyfriend."
"Ugh," Amara crossed her arms with a scowl. "He hasn't died yet?"
"I guess the city must've made good on their threat to condemn our old house," Mickey muttered bitterly. "That or the meth lab caught fire again."
Something twinged in her chest. Years ago, Amara had lived in the house next to the Gallaghers. When it caught fire and burned almost completely down, she was distraught, because her entire childhood had been destroyed in just a matter of minutes.
When those developers came around afterwards, they'd rebuilt it from scratch and it looked like it belonged in the suburbs, but it didn't stay nice long. It became a crack house, and eventually the realtors gave up on trying to get the people out. It had only been a couple of months ago that they got busted by the police.
By the time all of this happened, Amara had already signed the lease for her apartment. There was no use in trying to claim her old home. Especially since her and Lip had their own rental. She didn't know what to feel, because now Terry, of all people, was fucking living in it.
"What are they doing here, though?" Frank, who had just came out the door asked.
"Terry's been banging the lady who owns this place for a couple of years. Calls it his plan B. After those developers gave up on this block, she bought it."
Amara shifted on her feet. That had been her house. "Mrs. McCurdy?" Ian wondered. "She's, like, ninety."
Mickey shrugged. "Gotta do what you gotta do, man."
