Page 31 of The Escape Plan

“He was jealous,” I inform her.

“Doubt it.” She shrugs, her blue eyes hard as they remain on the open doorway. “He broke up with me and moved on to Lisa. He doesn’t care who I talk to.”

“He shouldn’t,” I agree. “But he does.”

Keeley sticks her tongue out at me and I laugh as I bend down to pick up the lid of her detergent, which has rolled beside the washing machine and come to rest against the wall. As I lean in close, I notice that this corner of the wall has ancient, flaking plaster with the carved words “Best friends forever!”

Underneath, there are a bunch of names, and I trace my fingers over them all.

Estelle… Cecelia… Margot…

Noeleen.

“Becks?” Keeley calls, and I stand up so fast, I almost smack my head on a cupboard. “What’re you doing?”

I swallow. Compose myself. “Um, I was just grabbing this for you.” I wave the detergent lid at her.

She assesses me with pursed lips. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Don’t be silly, Keeley. Ghosts aren’t real,” I say with a distracted smile, repeating the words she teased me with last night.

Noeleen. Could it really be her?

She frowns at me as she hops off the dryer. “Something wrong, Becks?”

“No, no. Nothing.” I clear my throat, my thoughts moving fast. “Just was thinking I might chat with Ezra about the Indie Music Night. Maybe I can help out with sound or something.”

It’s not that I don’t want to tell Keeley what I just saw, it’s more that I have no idea if I’ve stumbled upon anything at all.

Plus, she’s probably keen to get out of this laundry room now that the door is open. It’s hardly an ideal time to start up a conversation about my dead grandmother who once lived in this town.

“I still think you should play. But I’m sure he’d love the extra help.”

“You haven’t heard me sing yet to be making grand statements like that,” I say with a smile.

“If you’re awful, that’ll be all the more entertainment.” She grins.

“It’ll be good craic,” I agree. “With an I-C on the end, for the record, before you start dialing the police.”

“Excellent C-R-A-I-C.” Keeley laughs.

I glance at the open door and give her a salute. “Guess I’d better be on my way. So little time, so much of this building to explore.”

“Sure thing.” Keeley returns my grin. I’m about to turn away and head out the door when she calls out, “Hey, Becks?”

I turn back to her, where she’s scuffing the toe of one of her black Converse sneakers across the cement floor. “Yeah?”

“I’m glad we’re, um, friends now.”

“Me too,” I tell her, and I mean it.

Suddenly, between meeting Keeley, the Indie Music Night, and discovering whatcouldbe my Gran’s name on the wall, I feel like my summer in Serendipity Springs might be even more serendipitous than I first thought.

Chapter Eleven

Beckett

“You’ll never believewhat happened to John McCandless down at the bookies last night,” Mam says between sips of her drink. Even over video, her eyes are shining with excitement, and her skin is a nice pink shade of almost-a-tan. She’s currently lying on a sun lounger on a beautiful beach in Greece, and I’m glad she’s having a good honeymoon.

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