Page 5 of Innocent Until Proven Witch

"I've watched that woman spend years protecting people who rarely thank her for it." She returns to sorting supplies. "Draw your own conclusions."

The conversation ends there, at least for her. For me, curiosity lingers.

By the time evening approaches, I decide to take a walk through town. Moonhaven remains busy despite the weather, fishermen moving between docks, shop owners closing, locals gathering outside storefronts to talk.

As I pass a bait shop near the harbor, familiar voices drift toward me.

"...telling you the storms started getting worse again."

"Exactly. Same thing happened before."

I continue walking, and the discussion grows louder.

"Everybody knows what she is."

"Maybe it's not a coincidence," a second man snorts.

My attention sharpens. They're talking about Reina.

An older fisherman shakes his head. "We didn't have these problems until recently."

"That's not true."

"Close enough."

The group laughs, and one notices me standing nearby.

"Blackwater."

I nod. "Good to see you."

"You too." The fisherman gestures toward the harbor. "Picked a strange time to come back."

"Why's that?"

"The weather's gone crazy."

"Ask the witch," another man answers, and several chuckle.

I study their faces. Nobody seems frightened, like people repeating a story they've told many times.

"What exactly did she do?" I ask.

The question earns a few blank looks. One fisherman shrugs. "Nothing specific."

That isn't the answer I expected.

"Things just keep happening," another man scratches his beard.

"So she's guilty because bad weather exists?"

A brief silence follows. The fishermen exchange glances before someone laughs awkwardly. "When you put it that way..."

I nudge gently. "Seems like an important detail."

The conversation shifts elsewhere, and that alone tells me plenty. When I decide to leave, nobody has provided an actual accusation. Only rumors.

The farther I walk, the more versions of the same story I hear—strange weather, failed wards, unnatural fog, missing catches—all circling back to the same woman nobody can prove did anything wrong.