Page 20 of The Escape Plan

I look down at my chest, and my hand closes around the silver ring strung on the chain around my neck. “They’re called Claddagh rings,” I explain. “My grandmother gave me mine.”

Shortly before she died, Gran gifted me this ring. A men’s ring, oddly. On the inner rim, the words “Maireann croí éadrom a bhfad”are engraved. Like the majority of people in Ireland of my generation, I don’t speak Gaelic, but a quick google search gave the translation to be “a light heart lives a long life.”

I know the ring didn’t belong to my late grandfather, because I’d never seen it until that moment. But when I asked Gran where she got it and if it had significance, she tapped her nose and gave her famous “what’s for you won’t pass you” line. In this case, she meant that if I was supposed to find out, I would.

Now, I wear the ring around my neck instead of on my finger, because that way, I keep the words—and Gran—close to my heart.

“Really?” Keeley’s eyes are suddenly on me again, sparking bright under the starlight. “That’s weird. My grandfather gave me mine.” She twirls the little silver ring around her finger, her nails adorned with chipped black polish.

“Is your grandpa Irish?”

“No.” She shrugs. “My family have been in Serendipity Springs for generations.”

“Maybe he visited Ireland and bought it there,” I suggest, and she nods.

“I’m not sure if he’s ever been there. But that would make sense.”

I take a step forward, carefully moving around her on the narrow fire escape. “Let’s take a look at this window of yours.”

She gestures to the white-rimmed window directly next to the window I just climbed through—she’s right, we’re well and truly next-door neighbors. I put my hands under the edge of the window and pull upwards with as much force as I can.

I almost lose my balance when it immediately slides open.

I turn to raise a brow at her. “Stuck, you say?”

Her cheekbones redden as she stares, goggle-eyed, at the wide-open window into her apartment. “Wha—I swear it was!”

Almost laughing, I hold up a hand to count on my fingers. “First, you accost me naked in an elevator. Then, you turn up in the same shop I happen to be visiting. And now, you come to my window in the middle of the night with tales of being trapped by a stuck window that seems more mythological than the ghost you were just posing as.” I give her a crooked grin. “Are you stalking me, Keeley Roberts? Should I be fearing for my life?”

My teasing makes her face turn a bright shade of red that clashes with her purple shirt. “Why would I waste my time stalking you?”

“Because I’m handsome as can be,” I tell her laughingly. “And funny. And exceedingly charming.”

“As if.”

“I could charm the skin off a snake, if I ever took the notion.”

She snorts, but her cheeks are a deeper red than ever. “That’s not even a real saying.”

I let my eyes purposefully dip down to her bare legs as I say, “Well, Iwouldhave said that I could charm the pants off you, but you already appear to be missing your pants. Again.” I grin at her, pleased with my American use of the word ‘pants’—in Ireland, we say ‘trousers’—but her eyes narrow so quickly that I add, “Plus, I like my appendages intact.”

A burst of laughter leaps from her, and she claps her hand over her mouth as if trying to contain it. I like making her laugh.

“Now that I’ve come to your rescue for the second time in one day, I’ll be on my way.” I lift my chin in a nod. “Goodnight, neighbor.”

“Goodnight,Beckett,” she says pointedly.

I wait until she’s safely inside her apartment, then climb back through Mr. Prenchenko’s living room window and head straight to the bedroom.

My last coherent thought as I drift back to sleep is that I’m going to like being Keeley Roberts’ neighbor.

I sleep like a baby for the rest of the night.

Chapter Eight

Keeley

Andrew and Lisacan take my sleep, but they cannot take my breakfast sandwiches.

---