Fiona gasped. It was her mother, Monica. But this wasn't the Monica she knew—the woman who had abandoned her family time and time again. This was a Monica who was happy, healthy, and present. "Mom?" Fiona whispered, her voice trembling.

Suddenly, a voice echoed through the room. It was faint at first, like a whisper in the wind, but it grew louder and more insistent. "Fiona... Fiona..."

Fiona felt a surge of emotion. For a moment, she forgot about the chaos of her life—the bills, the kids, the constant struggle to keep her head above water. All she wanted was to reach out and touch her mother, to feel her warmth and hear her laugh.

As her fingers brushed the glass, the glow intensified, and the image on the screen began to shift. The empty Gallagher kitchen reappeared, but it was different. It was cleaner, brighter, and filled with a warmth that Fiona hadn't felt in years.

The woman on the screen looked up, her smile widening. "Fiona, sweetheart. It's okay. Everything's going to be okay."

But it was too late. The screen went black, and the room was plunged into darkness.

But as she reached for the screen, the image began to fade. The kitchen grew dim, and the laughter was replaced by the sound of the wind.

In the center of the kitchen stood a woman. She was beautiful, with long, dark hair and eyes that sparkled with life. She was laughing, and in her arms, she held a small child.