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Summary
“Is that who he just called for?”. Trixie checks, receives a singular, brisk nod in response.
“Katya, yeah”.
Lifting her head, Trixie diverts her gaze to the doorway, watches the short haired blonde bound into the room, with Dylan - the quieter of the twins - hot on her heels.
She’s short, is the first thing that Trixie notices. Shorter than Raina and shorter than herself, though taller than Dylan who Trixie’s deemed to be a little over five foot, by now. The shoes that she’s wearing don’t help the matter, she notes. They’re platform-less, unflattering suede brogues that Trixie would have preferred that the world collectively left in the 70’s, despite matching the remainder of her attire relatively well.