"You didn't have to do that, Corry," Moira says, approaching the other woman gets her shots and scurries away to write whatever sensational story will sell the most copies. "But thank you."

She ought to be used to the negative press by now; it's been surrounding her her whole life. Not to the extent that Corry is used to, by any means, but ever since the deaths of her father and uncle, Moira has had reporters inquiring after the curse enough to drive her up a wall.

Today, she'd rather shove them all into the ocean.

"So, they're a fun crowd, huh?" She asks, trying to lighten the mood.