phone call
Her lip quivered as he spoke her name again. She brought the heel of her palm up to push her glasses up and defiantly wipe at her eyes. "It had nothing to do with my time as a niffin," she said, carefully, "Or that's not the whole reason. Don't pin it on that." Her tone had shifted since the silence. Her voice was coming across strained. "Charlie died trying to help Emily. Magic consumed him. He was doing something good. Irene Macalister? She's been slaughtering fairies just to get a iota of magic. It doesn't matter what your intent is, more often then not, it makes things worse."
She swallowed and allowed for another pause. "But it doesn't matter. We need it now," she said, with a twist of venom in her words, scorn towards the subject more than him. "And you were damn well aware of what you were doing to your Dad. You made that choice long before you knew about Julia. You could have asked Julia to save your Dad. You didn't. I'm not taking the blame for whatever ends up happening with him." And then she pulled in a stunted breath.