10/22/2026
Chapter 1
The Tree That Shouldn't Be Dying
Morning settled over Greenville in shades of green and gold.
Sunlight streamed through the canopy of a massive white oak while Tree Hugger Ted stood beneath it with one hand resting against the trunk. His red knit cap was pulled low over his dark hair, and sawdust from an earlier job still clung to his work pants.
Behind him, Tree Cycle Todd unloaded climbing ropes from the Branch Brothers truck.
“You planning on hugging that thing all day?” Todd called.
Ted didn't answer.
Todd stopped.
That usually meant something.
Ted stepped backward and studied the tree from root to crown. From the street, it looked magnificent—wide canopy, thick trunk, plenty of green leaves.
But Ted had learned long ago that trees didn't always advertise their problems.
He pointed upward.
“See that?”
Todd squinted.
“I see about ten thousand leaves.”
“Past the leaves. Upper-left scaffold limb.”
Todd followed the line of Ted's finger.
A large branch stretched over the homeowner's driveway.
Then he saw it.
A narrow crack where the limb joined the trunk.
Todd's expression changed.
“That wasn't in the photos they sent us.”
“No.”
Ted walked around the tree.
Near the base, a thin strip of bark looked darker than the rest.
He crouched.
“This tree is losing moisture.”
Todd glanced toward the house.
“Drought stress?”
“Maybe. But look at everything around it.”
The lawn was green.
Nearby trees looked healthy.
Even the shrubs beneath the oak were thriving.
Todd folded his arms.
“So why this one?”
A dry leaf drifted down between them.
Then another.
Then five.
Todd looked up.
A moment ago, the canopy had been green.
Now a patch of leaves near the cracked branch was turning brown before their eyes.
“That,” Todd said slowly, “is definitely not normal.”
A faint sound came from somewhere above them.
Crick.
Ted's eyes widened.
“Move!”
The brothers jumped aside.
A branch crashed onto the driveway exactly where Todd had been standing.
The homeowner rushed out.
“Oh my gosh! Is everyone okay?”
“We're fine,” Todd said.
Ted examined the broken branch.
The leaves were still green.
But the wood inside was dry and brittle.
Almost ancient.
Ted rubbed a piece between his fingers.
It crumbled.
Todd stared at it.
“That branch went from alive to dead in minutes.”
Ted looked toward the surrounding woods.
For the briefest moment, he thought he saw an old man standing between the trees.
Long brown coat.
Crooked cane.
A face hidden beneath shadow.
Ted blinked.
The figure was gone.
But something remained.
Carved into the fallen branch were four words:
YOU CANNOT SAVE THEM.
Todd read the message.
“Well,” he said, reaching for his gear, “somebody clearly hasn't met us.”
Ted didn't smile.
He stared toward the woods.
Because somewhere beyond the tree line, the sound of dry branches rubbing together almost sounded like laughter.
