"Not dark?" Moira lets out a snort at that. "Our mother alone killed more people than I count. She nearly killed our cousin. Not to mention, our various ancestors raging against the Thorntons and the town because of this stupid rivalry. Aoife, how can you not see how awful our family history is? It's one of the reasons I had to get away," she admits, pushing a hand through her hair. "Sometimes I still think there's a chance I could snap. Go over the edge. And I hate it more than I can say." She doesn't say she would rather be dead than wind up like their mother, but the intention of the words remains all the same.

"She can still love someone and think about herself, you know," Moira points out. "The two aren't mutually exclusive." She can feel a headache coming on, and she tries not to obviously flinch. "If she wants, if you both want, I can try and help with the magic. I don't know how much good I could do, but it's worth a shot, right?"

She wonders at how tense Aoife sounds. How upset. Clearly, Moira thinks, there's something more going on with her sister.

"The end of July," she says. "I'm hoping she comes out sooner. Pregnancy during the summer is hell."