Page 105 of The Escape Plan

His eyes flicker with interest, but he seems to read the room remarkably well, because he points down the street at Serendipi-Tea. “I’ll get us coffees, give you a moment.”

“Thanks.”

I sink down on a bench and flip over the envelope to examine the postmark. It’s dated 1970—a few years after Noeleen left town. With trembling fingers, I carefully take a piece of paper out of the envelope.

It’s thin, worn where it folds.

My dearest Douglas,

It’s been a few years since we’ve spoken, but I hope you know that I still think of you fondly. I have your ring tucked in the back of a drawer, as a memory of you.

The time we spent with each other was nothing short of magical, and I truly believe it was ordained by fate. Our time together is a cherished memory I will carry with me forever—close to my heart, for only myself, because speaking aloud about what we had would never do it justice.

Leaving you was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. But your father made it clear that there was no future for us together, and I would have never wanted to put you in an uncomfortable position with your family…

I gasp in horror at the words I’ve just read.

This was not, in any world, an ending I could have imagined.

Reading on is no easier, as Noeleen’s words communicate that my great-grandfather did not view an Irishwoman from a working-class family to be a suitable wife for his only son, whom he intended to be the future mayor of our town.

So, Noeleen left. She couldn’t bear to cause any fuss with the Roberts family. And that way, my grandfather would never be forced to choose between love and duty to his family.

She mentioned that she heard from Sissy that Gramps had, indeed, eventually been elected mayor, and was loved by the people of our town. She said she was happy to hear he had married. And that she had married too.

She concluded by saying that she sent this letter as closure. To let him know that she was happy, and now that she’d had word he was happy too, she knew that all’s well that ends well, essentially.

Although the phrase Noeleen used was “what’s for you won’t pass you.”

By the time I’m finished reading the letter, tears are streaming down my face.

It’s a lot to process, and when Ezra comes back, he takes one look at me and my tear-stained expression, then drops to a seat beside me. Hands me a takeout cup. “Two pumps of caramel syrup and a splash of heavy cream.”

“You’re the best, Ez. Thanks,” I say through a sniffle.

He smiles at me. Nods towards the letter. “Was it from Noeleen?”

“It was. Sent in 1970, a few years after she lived here.”

“Whoa. That’s crazy. I don’t think Dad was even born yet.” My brother hesitates, his tattooed forearms flexing as he grips his coffee cup. “Do you… want to talk about it?”

“According to this,” I say as I hold up the letter, “she left because our great-grandfather didn’t approve of her as a potential wife for his son.”

“What? That’s insane.”

“I know, right?” I finger the letter. “I guess it was a different time back then, but still… I can’t believe that our great-grandfather got involved to that extent. All to apparently help Gramps’s chances at being voted mayor.” I shake my head. “In the letter, Noeleen said that she didn’t want Gramps to have to choose between her and the life he had in front of him. She thought that wouldn’t be fair, so she left.”

“She didn’t give him a choice in the matter?”

I shake my head. “Don’t think so.”

“Can I read it?”

“Sure.” Noeleen and Douglas are as much a part of Ezra’s history as mine.

My brother skims the letter quickly, then turns to me with an incredulous look on his face. “And you sayI’mthe one who knows nothing.”

“Pardon?”

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