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BITING DOWN ON HER BOTOTM LIP, Amelia's leg moved faster as she sat on the couch. Her teeth sank into her lip gently, providing a welcome distraction from the tension coursing through her body.
It was a habit she had developed since her traumatic experience, a way to momentarily divert her thoughts. Lip, seated nearby with a pen nestled between his fingertips, glanced at her intermittently, his gaze conveying both curiosity and concern.
Amelia could feel his eyes on her, their weight pressing down on her chest like an extra layer of clothing. She took a deep breath to steady herself, preparing for the task at hand. "Alright," Lip finally spoke, raising a small notepad to his frame and swiftly connecting a pen to it.
Carl, positioned near the coffee table, nodded in acknowledgement. "You know that old payphone by the Kash and Grab?" Lip asked, directing his question at Carl.
Carl nodded once again, showing that he was familiar with the location. "Yeah," he replied, anticipation building in the room.
Lip leaned forward, his voice low and serious as he continued to explain the plan. "We want you to get on your bike, go to the pay phone, and call the police," he instructed, his pen scrawling notes on the pad in tandem with his words. "Tell them that you saw a little boy walking down Southport Avenue at 2:45, okay?" The gravity of the situation hung in the air, and Lip was determined to ensure that their plan went off without a hitch.
"Why should I?"
Ian sat up, fixing his gaze on Carl, who was facing Lip. He raised an eyebrow, cigarette held between two pale fingers. "You wanna end up in a children's home?"
Carl, seemingly unfazed by the gravity of the situation, simply shrugged. A mischievous smirk danced on his lips as he responded, "The group home on Union has a climbing wall." He let out a silent sigh and added, "Besides, I don't even have a bike."
Ian leaned in closer, his tone serious as he continued, "There are wire cutters in the junk drawer." Carl, taking the cue, pushed himself up from the edge of the coffee table and retrieved the wire cutters. With a nonchalant toss, he handed them over to Ian.
Meanwhile, Lip was knee-deep in strategizing how to quickly return Casey Casden without drawing any suspicion to Debbie or Emmy. Stress weighed on him like a heavy burden, and he rubbed the side of his face in frustration. "Steve, Fiona, you guys have to get Debs to take the kid back."
Fiona lowered her coffee cup to her knee, her expression thoughtful as she considered Lip's plea. Her cigarette moved in sync with her words as she replied, "I don't know if I can make that happen."
"Fiona, you have to, or else we're all fucked," Lip pressed urgently.
A heavy silence hung in the room as Fiona contemplated Lip's request. She glanced at each person's face before letting out a breathy sigh. Determinedly, she stubbed her cigarette on the couch and made her way up the stairs to confront Debbie and Emmy, with Steve closely following behind her.
