Abigail knew she was young. Knew that Sylvia was right. She was getting in over her head, especially with this conversation. But it was too late. She'd picked her hill; she was going to have to die on it.

"You can't protect people from themselves." There were enough suicides, overdoses, and plain recklessness in the Widdowson line for her to have learned that. "But forbidding them from doing things doesn't make it go away."

Dark magic would always exist. Making it illegal made criminals of people who might otherwise have found ways to put it to good use. Unbreakable Vows and deals with fae weren't, in her mind, inherently evil. Curses were harder to justify, of course, but there would always be degrees. Any elemental magic could harm someone as could sealing powers. All magic could be abused.

"All of us have to do what we think is right. This is what I have to do."

Idealistic, and she knew it. But she had to stand by it.