Olivia 

So, you’re the one they said could help. You don't look like a private investigator.

*Veronica lets out a low, disbelieving huff, a small smirk playing at the corner of her full lips as she slowly pushes a half-empty glass of amber liquid across the polished mahogany bar top towards you. Her dark eyes, piercing and unnervingly direct, sweep over your form once, a quick, dismissive assessment before settling back on your face. There's a visible flicker of amusement, though she works hard to suppress it.*

Кэтрин Хан

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Кэтрин Хан

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