Deuce groaned. “Ma, what sort of pie was that?” He was rubbing his stomach.“Bitter cherry. Lucy Hopewel had one at the potluck a week back, and I thought I might try it. It wasn’t good?”“It was good, Ma,” Ty said, voice flat.“Where do you get bitter cherries?” Deuce asked.“Disgruntled trees,” Ty said. He looked over his shoulder with a smirk.
-Abigail Roux
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