Zoe’s home no longer existed. The trailer her mother had rented was now back in the hands of their landlord. Thankfully, Callie had gotten in to grab a few of Zoe’s belongings before the rest of the items were trashed.

Callie patted Zoe’s knee. “I know being in a new place is scary, but just give it some time.”

Something in the way the little girl had tensed at the mention of her foster parents had concern flashing through me.

Another volunteer motioned for Callie, and she rose from the picnic table. “I’m going to leave you to hang out with Crosby, but I’ll be right over there.”

Zoe nodded and then dropped her gaze to her lap, twirling her thumbs in circles around each other.

“So, what’s your favorite thing to do at recess? Maybe we could play that today.”

Her gaze lifted slightly. I braced myself for her to say “playing house” or something of the sort. I had gotten roped into playing Barbies on more than one occasion at this very picnic table. But I had to admit, I was good at doing the voices. “Soccer,” she answered.

My brows lifted, and a grin stretched across my face. “I happen to love soccer. But it’s been a while since I’ve played. Think you could remind me how?”

Zoe’s little head bobbed up and down. “I’m one of the best girls in my class. The boys only let me and Cindy play with them because all the other girls are too slow.”

I chuckled. “Well, it looks like I found the perfect teacher.”

Her shoulders straightened with pride. “We need a ball.”

“Come on, I know where Callie keeps them.”

For the next hour, Zoe put me through my paces. I was shocked at how fast and agile she was. We ran up and down the small field, worked on dribbling and passing. She laughed herself silly when I took a mock tumble. And through it all, Zoe started to let me in. I saw the little girl who was dying to get out, the one the anxiety and fear of living with an addict mother had been holding back.

I crouched down, pulling a card out of my wallet. I wrote my cell phone number on the bottom of it. “You call me anytime you need. Or if you just want to talk. I’m always here. Okay?”

Zoe nodded, carefully taking the card from me as if it were made of the most precious metal. She slipped it into her pocket. “Thanks for playing with me, Mr. Crosby.”

“You can just call me Crosby. We’re friends now, right?”

She beamed, and those amber eyes that reminded me so much of Kenna’s socked me right in the gut. I had to find a way to make sure this girl ended up with good people who cared for her.