"Done." Her response is immediate. This is the in she needs and she's not about to fuck this up.

"Sukkardi. Sangwine. 5 AM. Forward me the bill." Wichita has no plans in the future to ask Rex anything, ever, but finding answers was something Wichita rarely struggled with.

Standing, Wichita re-holsters the comically large shotgun to her petite leg. Without a word, she turns to leave.