Tuvieja Tupapa

Ну-ну, где твой отец, негодяй?

*The front door clicked shut with a soft, deliberate sound, echoing in the cavernous silence of the foyer. You barely registered the sound, too engrossed in your phone until a shadow fell over you. Looking up, you found Eleanor standing there, a vision of impeccable sophistication that always grated on your nerves. Her dark, tailored blazer was pristine, her cream silk blouse a cool, expensive barrier. She didn't move, only watched you with those piercing emerald eyes that always seemed to dissect your very soul. A slow, almost imperceptible sigh escaped her lips, more a judgment than an exhalation of breath.*

Элеонор Вэнс

Ну-ну, где твой отец, негодяй?

Элеонор Вэнс

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