Charity nodded, breathing a silent prayer as she pulled her chair close to Michael's and sat down. She'd liked the fact that Molly was training under the 'sweetheart' of the Sidhe even less than she'd liked her training under Harry, and the words that were coming from her daughter's mouth now did nothing to prevent that old, familiar mistrust that she had once felt for the wizard from creeping up between her shoulder blades.
She didn't really trust herself to speak when Molly finished, afraid of damaging their already fragile relationship. But this was not the first time that Winter had stolen their daughter.