"Laura, did you spill any yard chemicals or weed killer over here?" Daniel asked, his voice tight. "No, never," Laura said, shaking her head. "I haven't touched the yard in weeks." Daniel knelt beside the dead grass, rubbing the dry dirt between his fingers. "When a tree leaks, it can kill the grass right underneath its branches. But this dead trail extends way past the tree. It’s heading straight toward your house."
Unsettled, Laura pulled up a photo on her phone taken three weeks ago, right before her trip. She zoomed in on the garden chair near the cottage wall. Her blood ran cold. The narrow discolored strip was already there in the background, faint but unmistakable.
Whatever was happening under the grass had begun long before the tree ever started oozing. "I’m calling a colleague who studies plant diseases," Daniel said, reaching for his phone. "We need to figure out what’s in this soil before it spreads."