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I hate the look of sadness on her face. I hate hurting her. But my sympathy has waned a little by the fact that she came here trying to trap me.
Did she think I wouldn’t ask for proof?
And then I look at her again. She’s utterly devastated.
This isn’t who she is. She was simply feeling desperate.
I hope I’ve gotten through to her this time.
“Let’s get you to the airport. I will personally fly you back to Glasgow, first class. I’ll call my driver and have him take us to the airport now.”
“You don’t have to do that. I don’t deserve it after what I’ve done.”
“I don’t mind doing this for you.” I pull up a booking app on my phone. “All I want is for you to be happy. Find a good man who can give you what you want. Because it’s not me.”
She nods then, and by the look of resignation on her face, I believe I’ve finally gotten through to her this time.
I text Phillipe, and within ten minutes, Keira is all packed up and ready to go.
We walk down to the elevators, descend, and then meet Phillipe outside the hotel.
“LaGuardia,” I tell him. “She’s booked on a flight tonight. I booked a coach ticket for you as well so you can personally see her to the gate and make sure she gets on the plane.”
I’m not taking any chances this time.
Philippe nods and begins driving through the midmorning traffic.
My cell phone rings, and I check the ID. My eyes widen. It’s my grandmother.
She almost never calls me. She uses email instead.
“Mémé?” I say, my nerves up and on edge. “Everything okay?”
“I’m fine, Ronan.” Her voice is frantic. “But I had a premonition.”
I resist rolling my eyes. Not that she can see me anyway. But I like to take Mémé seriously. She puts a lot of stock in her religion.
“Yes?”
“It’s your lady. Mary. She’s in trouble, Ronan. You have to go to her. You have to go to her now.”
Chapter Forty
Mary
Why aren’t they leaving?
They have all our wallets, our phones, all the money the cashier could give them. The third person, who came in later, watches out the door.
He has moved the sign on the door from open to closed.
The people who walk by the building can see that there are people inside sitting.
No one’s going to believe it’s closed.
Still, people walk on by.
Passersby, passing by. No one cares. No one bothers to ascertain what’s going on. No one bothers to see the situation for what it truly is.
