“We couldn’t help but stare. She’d grown a lot since we’d last seen her. Tanned, and with the same wide-set, oval eyes and fresh smile as her late sister, Steffi Hamilton looked so much like Halsey it was eerie. Steffi had white streaks bleached into her dark hair and sported a tattoo of a mermaid on her shoulder, but, despite that, anyone could see she would be a beauty. She was almost as tall as Halsey, but standing in front of us in tiny white shorts and a skinny, blue T-shirt, she was wafer-...thin where Halsey had been curvy. A man’s voice, from the back of the house, bellowed, “Steffi? Who the hell is at the door?” “Daddy,” she screamed, without even turning around, so that her voice thundered in our faces. “Shut up. I’m here with Max and Drew Taylor.” Then she smiled at Drew and touched the bottom of her gauzy shirt. “Hey, this is real nice. Is it Dolce?” “Actually, Nordstrom Rack,” Drew said. Steffi nodded seriously. “Cool.” Into the large, slate-tiled entry hall came Jimmy Hamilton, his pale, pink dress shirt, with the top three buttons unbuttoned, tucked into expensive jeans.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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