Page 57 of The Escape Plan

“And would he encourage you to try again until you get it?”

She sniffs. Looks down at her pink flip-flopped feet. “Yeah.”

“So is that what we should do now, with the G chord?”

“Yeah,” she says again, but this time, she looks up. And when I see the determined set of her chin, the conviction in that one syllable word, I know I’ve won her over.

In the remaining five minutes of the lesson, she completely nails the chord.

“Great job today, Sammie,” I tell her as we finish off with a huge high-five. The grin on her face tells me she believes it, too.

“And my mommy was even here to see me do it!” She points towards the window of the lesson room, and I turn around to give her mom a wave where she’s watching through the glass.

I’m momentarily distracted, though, because Keeley’s standing next to her.

And though I’m expecting her, the sight of her—dressed in an oversized Dolly Parton t-shirt and cutoff jean shorts, a leopard print scrunchie holding back her long black hair—makes my heart jump in my chest.

Like, palpably.

“Oooh, she’spretty,” Sammie says from beside me.

“She is,” I agree wholeheartedly, before snapping myself out of it and walking the little girl towards the door.

“Is she your girlfriend?” Sammie asks.

I smile, looking at Keeley through the glass. She smiles back at me, and I notice she’s holding two paper cups. “No, not my girlfriend.”

We’re at the door now, but before Sammie opens it, she levels serious dark brown eyes on me. “Why? Does she think you suck? Because you don’t.”

This makes me snort.

“Thanks for that, Sammie,” I say with a chuckle, patting her head.

“Anytime,” she says, then throws open the door. “Mom! Beckett learned me a G chord today!”

“Taughtyou a G chord,” her mom corrects, looking down at her daughter indulgently.

I spend a couple of minutes chatting with Sammie’s mom and reviewing the lesson. As they’re leaving, Sammie shoots me a huge, gap-toothed smile over her shoulder and yells, “Bye, Beckett! See you next week!”

“Looking forward to it,” I call back.

Then, Sammie turns her focus on Keeley. “Bye, Beckett’s friend!”

She grins at the kiddo. “Bye, sweetie.”

“Beckett thinks you’re pretty, by the way!”

Keeley’s mouth falls open.

“Sammie!” the girl’s mother chides, barely hiding her smile.

“She’s not wrong,” I say with a shrug and enjoy the way Keeley’s cheeks flame red.

She waits until the mother-daughter duo exit the hallway before she turns to me. “Um, hi.”

“Hi, yourself.” I’m ridiculously happy to see her even though we just saw each other this morning, when she knocked on my door to confirm we’re still on for this afternoon before going off to work at the library.

Today’s the day we’re going to talk to her grandpa at his retirement community. And while I’m not sure what to expect, not sure how much Douglas will be able to tell us about my gran, I’m glad Keeley wanted me to come with her.

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