Page 70 of Winter Glam in Amsterdam

"Who—who are you?"

"Hi, I'm Zoey," the girl introduces herself cheerfully and extends her arm for a handshake.

"Zoey?" I repeat, question marks written all over my face. One of her arms is in a cast, and that’s probably the reason for her messy ponytail—but who is she?

I know I've heard her name before, but for the life of me, I can't place it. And she must see that in my expression because she quickly follows up.

"Walker. Zoey Walker."

Oh.

I tense and quickly let go of her hand. "Right. What can I do for you, Zoey?"

"May I come in?" Hesitantly, I pull the door open for her and motion for her to step inside.

"I'm sorry, I'm actually packing," I explain and continue on to the living room. "Please don't mind the mess."

"I grew up with four brothers," she chuckles, looking around. "Trust me, this is nothing."

"So, how can I help, Zoey?"

"I just wanted to come here and have a little chat with you." She grins. "You know, girl to girl."

I stop with my back facing her and take a deep breath.

"Zoey," I start and stop myself, trying to find the right words, "that's so nice of you, but I don't think the two of us have anything to talk about."

"Well, I think we do," she disagrees and takes a seat at the kitchen island. "You know, for one I wanted to prove my brother wasn’t lying to you. I thought that was fair."

She lifts up her arm that's still in a cast.

"I just wanted to tell you that, indeed, he rushed to the hospital along with my other brothers after a rather unfortunately worded message from me."

Her expression turns melancholic, and I sigh, everything my mother ingrained into me about being a good host kicking in.

"Would you like some water?"

"Water would be great," she says cheerfully, shaking the wistfulness off her face, and I hand her a cold bottle from the fridge.

"Zoey, my issues with your brother have nothing to do with him rushing to be with you in the hospital," I start to explain, my eyes nervously darting to the clock over my fridge.

I think I can spare a few more minutes. The only thing left to do for me is attempt to close my carry-on suitcase and find an outfit for after landing, which I'll wear when I go in to sign thecontract. That shouldn't take too long, it’s not like I have an array of clothes suitable for interviews or first days at a new job. God, I need to go shopping.

"I know my brothers are knuckleheads," Zoey says, a smile tugging at her lips as she pulls me from my thoughts. "They speak before they think—if they even do at all," she giggles, and it almost makes me break into a smile too. It’s like she’s describing my own brother.

"But their heart is in the right place, and I know my brother never intended to hurt you."

"Well, it was the outcome nonetheless," I say, my smile turning forced.

“You now,” she starts and twists her bottle open. “I don’t really remember our parents. I don’t remember the day everyone learned they wouldn’t be coming home.” She takes a quick sip of her water. “What I do remember are days, even years later, filled with sadness. Nights that I would hear them sneak through the house when another nightmare woke them up. They’ve been through a lot, Summer.” She gazes at me imploringly.

“What’s left of our family comes first, for each and every one of them. They will drop anything in a heartbeat In Adam’s case; I guess that includes Lily now, too. And it has the potential to include you as well.” She sets down her bottle. “And while I find them overprotective a lot of times, there’s also nothing I wouldn’t do for them.”

She shoots me a sad smile. “I wish you could have seen them when the burst into my hospital room, panic written all over their faces, because they assumed the worst. I’ve never seen them like that. It was such a traumatic situation for them.” She takes another deep breath. “I’m not saying it’s okay that Tanner ghosted you. But I really hope you’ll take the context into consideration and think about giving him another chance.” Her eyes dart to my living room.

"And judging by your wall stacked with flowers, he has let you know he's very sorry about hurting you," Zoey points out, but I can't find it in me to return her genuine smile. I should have had that bonfire.

"What are you scared of?" she asks, leaning her chin in her hands, curiously looking me up and down. "Girl to girl, pinky promise I won't tell him."

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