The town was welcoming at first. When she bought the old apple orchard and moved into the tattered old house that came with it, they teasingly started calling her the Cider Witch. She had no intention of getting the cider press working again, but even without the cider, the name stuck on her like bark on a tree.
They weren’t wrong about the witching though, it was what she was there for. Small towns were superstitious, and superstitious towns were profitable.




















