The email arrived at 6:43 a.m.
Luke was awake.
He'd been awake for hours, staring at the cracked ceiling, listening to the house breathe—pipes knocking, Frank's absence still echoing, Debbie turning over in her sleep.
The phone vibrated once.
That was enough.
The Letter That Ends a Pattern
Massachusetts Institute of Technology
Department of Electrical Engineering and Computer Science
Status: ACCEPTED
Full ride.
Housing secured.
Fall semester confirmed.
Luke didn't move.
Didn't smile.
Didn't swear.
Because this wasn't just an acceptance.
It was a severed chain.
Every Gallagher before him had burned out, dropped out, drunk themselves numb, or disappeared. Some did all four.
This letter wasn't a door.
It was a line.
Cross it—and there was no going back to the old excuses.
The Point of No Return
The System flickered softly in the back of his mind.
[Narrative Threshold Reached]
Cycle of Poverty: FRACTURED
Authenticity Status: Maintained
Note:You may still fail. That is the point.
Luke exhaled.
"Good," he muttered. "Wouldn't trust it otherwise."
Telling the House
Fiona read the letter twice.
Then a third time.
Then she sat down hard on the kitchen chair like gravity had suddenly remembered her.
"You're really leaving," she said.
Luke shrugged. "Boston's not Mars."
Ian laughed. "You'll hate it."
"I already hate it," Luke replied. "I just haven't been yet."
Debbie hugged him so hard he had to pry her off.
Carl asked, "MIT got guns?"
"No."
"Lame."
The Party — Gallagher Style
They didn't plan it.
They never did.
Someone told someone.
Someone brought beer.
Someone brought food they definitely didn't pay for.
By nightfall, the house was full.
Kev and V showed up with a keg.
Mickey leaned against the wall, pretending not to care.
Mandy brought cheap cake and better advice.
Even neighbors Luke barely remembered slapped his shoulder like he'd won something for them.
Music blasted.
The floor shook.
The walls that had absorbed decades of yelling, crying, and broken promises now held laughter that didn't sound desperate.
Fiona's Moment
Later. Quieter.
Fiona stood beside Luke on the porch, both of them watching the chaos inside.
"I did all this so you wouldn't end up stuck," she said.
Luke shook his head. "You did this so we survived."
She swallowed. "Same thing."
He looked at her then—really looked.
Tired. Strong. Still standing.
"I'm not leaving you behind," he said. "I'm breaking ahead."
Fiona nodded.
That was enough.
Midnight
At midnight, someone shouted, "TO LIP!"
Luke raised his beer.
"Don't," he said. "Toast Fiona. I just ran faster."
They did.
And for once, it didn't feel like a lie.
Final Thought
Later, when the house finally quieted and the floor was sticky with spilled beer and memories, Luke lay back on the couch.
The System remained silent.
It didn't need to speak.
The cycle was broken not by power, or tricks, or miracles—
—but by staying long enough to leave clean.
And that was the hardest move of all.