She can't be lied to, it gives her migraines of a sort. Everything Verity was ever told of magic or fairies or unicorns, it hurt her as a little girl. Cue me, for whom all these things are every-day, and she delighted in getting to know me.

[ There's a lot more to it than that, but that's the jist. ]

She's a New Yorker. Dyes her hair red, tattooed up both arms, big clunky glasses ... you would know her if you saw her.