The past two months had been an unyielding struggle for Bruce, a constant cycle of worry and frustration. Among his most frequent Troll visitors was Willow, his little sister, whose presence brought comfort and heartache. The shocking reality of her being his sister was one thing, but a more pressing concern weighed heavily on Bruce's mind: his little brother, Branch, was missing. This heart-pounding uncertainty gnawed at him, leaving an ache that felt insurmountable. All he could do was endure the long stretches between Willow's biweekly visits, hoping for news that would miraculously change everything.

During this troubling time, Willow and her partners, Trollex and Barb, had decided to proceed with their dates on Vacay Island. It was a heartfelt compromise to ensure that Bruce remained updated on the search for Branch, even if their relationship had grown strained. Willow's disappointment in him was palpable. After all, he had left before she even hatched, and their brother's absence during such a critical reunion only compounded her distress. Despite her frustration, Bruce couldn't shake his concern—not just for Branch but also for his sister. She appeared increasingly haggard each visit, with dark circles under her eyes that told the story of sleepless nights spent searching and worrying.

The toll of the situation wore heavily on Willow, and Bruce suspected it was the very reason Trollex and Barb had agreed to maintain their date nights. Once they discovered the truth about Bruce being Willow's brother, their enthusiasm for his company seemed to wane. The warmth of friendship turned to coolness as they backed away, their concern for Willow's well-being taking precedence over the bond they had shared with Bruce. The loss stung deeply; Bruce had cherished his friendship with Trollex. He understood, however, the protective instinct behind their distancing, even if it meant losing close connections.

"You thinking about Willow again?" Bruce's wife, Brandy, asked gently as she extended her hand toward him, her eyes filled with concern. Climbing into her palm, he sighed deeply, the weight of his thoughts evident in his posture. "You've been dwelling on her a lot lately," she noted, a hint of worry slipping into her tone.

"It's hard not to, my love," Bruce admitted, leaning against her thumb in search of comfort. "With Branch still missing, and seeing how drained Willow looks every time she arrives… She's my little sister. I can't help but be worried about her." A heavy sigh escaped him, burdened with unresolved emotions. "I'm sorry I've been so distant," he added, feeling the guilt settle in. "I'll head down to the restaurant and see how I can lend a hand."

Brandy paused, her brow furrowing slightly in thought. "Why don't you go surfing instead?" she suggested with a soft smile, her voice encouraging. "That never fails to help you clear your head."

Bruce hesitated, looking up at her with concern. "Are you sure? I don't want to leave you to handle everything alone."

With a warm smile, Brandy gently set her husband down. "You won't be of any help to anyone if you're stressed out. Just go relax a little," she urged, handing him his surfboard. "I can manage the restaurant."

He felt a wave of gratitude wash over him. "You're the best," he said, smiling up at his wife before placing a tender kiss on her hand, the affection shared between them momentarily easing his turmoil. Turning away, Bruce went to the beach, taking a deep breath of the salty ocean air. It felt refreshing and invigorating. He realized he needed this—an escape to the waves to clear his mind and recharge. With renewed determination, he looked forward to his surfing day, hoping it would bring him the peace and clarity he desperately sought.

In moments like these, Willow found herself endlessly grateful for Poppy's infectious enthusiasm. To distract herself from the gnawing worry for Branch, Poppy had relentlessly interrogated John Dory about everything concerning BroZone. While listening to the oldest brother drone on about himself could be infuriating, it had the unintended benefit of keeping him from prying into Willow's life or questioning her knowledge of Bruce's whereabouts.

Willow rubbed her weary face, the weight of exhaustion bearing down on her. She dreaded confronting Bruce, especially now that John Dory was stirring the pot with his ludicrous idea of reconvening for "The Perfect Family Harmony." She could vividly recall Branch's rants about how pursuing that so-called harmony had shattered their family, while Bruce had been quick to voice his discontent about John Dory's leadership the past few visits. As the ferry jostled under their feet, she leaned back into the driver's seat, rubbing her eyes in frustration. Was she exhausted? Absolutely. But the thought of Branch in danger was enough to keep her wide awake. She needed to ensure that Poppy, who had a knack for neglecting her own rest, managed to catch some sleep. After all, Branch was the one Troll in the village they both cherished, and his missing hurt them deeply.

Suddenly startled by a hand resting on her shoulder, Willow jumped. "Sorry," John Dory muttered, his voice low with concern. I didn't mean to scare you." He studied her face intently, worry etched into his features. "Have you been getting enough sleep?"

"I sleep just fine," Willow snapped, brushing his hand away dismissively. "Isn't it a bit late for the concerned big brother routine? If you really wanted to play that part, you should have come home sooner."

"That's not fair, Willow," John Dory replied, frowning. "I did come back, but the Tree was empty. It wasn't until the Rock Apocalypse that I discovered you and Branch were alive."

Willow's scowl softened, replaced by a flicker of concern. "You thought we were dead?" The frustration bubbled back up as she shook her head. "You never should have left us. None of you should have left—at the very least, none of you should have stayed away as long as you did. We were in the Troll Tree for three years before Grandma… before we left. You could have come back."

"What's that about Grandma?" John Dory asked, anxiety creeping into his voice. He sensed the urgency behind her words. What had happened to their baby siblings during his absence? Now that he understood the implications of the brothers abandoning Branch alone with their grandmother and an unhatched egg, a deep worry settled in his heart. Had Grandma passed away? How long had it been since Willow and Branch lost their only caretaker? Who had taken care of them after she was gone?

Willow shook her head vehemently, her expression fierce. "That doesn't matter right now. What matters is getting Branch and Floyd back. If that means gathering the rest of your brothers, then that's exactly what we'll do." As the ferry came to a halt, she straightened in her seat. "We're here. Remember what I said about calling Bruce 'Spruce.' I may be angry with him, but I won't let that stop me from ensuring you call him by the right name."

"Bruce is your friend, isn't he?" Poppy interjected, her curiosity piqued. "I remember you used to rave about your date nights on Vacay Island."

"He was," Willow replied, a bitter smile crossing her lips. "I was so eager to introduce him to you and Branch." She gripped the steering wheel of Rhonda, guiding the armadillo bus off the ferry. "Now? He feels like just another brother who abandoned me and Branch."

Poppy offered a supportive smile, wrapping her arms around Willow briefly as they drove toward Bruce's restaurant. Despite the simmering anger and frustration in Willow's voice, Poppy could see the underlying worry etched on her friend's face. "Branch will be okay. We'll find a way to pull your brothers together and save Branch."

"Hmmm," Willow sighed, leaning against Poppy for support. Doubt gnawed at her—she wasn't confident her brothers could collaborate long enough to pull off the Perfect Family Harmony. "If you say so."

"I know so," Poppy insisted, squeezing Willow tighter before releasing her. "Now, let's go find Bruce. He has to be around here somewhere, right?"

Willow nodded and parked Rhonda, smiling as she spotted Cove and Freddy, two of Bruce's kids. "I know just who to ask, too." She looked at Poppy. "Why don't you and John Dory go inside? Bruce's wife, Brandy, can get you guys something to eat. She'll be the yellow Vacayer with the red hair. Just let her know I sent you."

"Are you sure?" Poppy asked, brows furrowed. "I don't want to leave you alone out here."

"I'll be alright," Willow reassured her friend, her voice steady as the trio walked away from Rhonda's, the sounds of the beach buzzing around them. "Cove! Freddy! Come over here for a minute!"

John Dory glanced nervously at the two kids sprinting toward them and raised an eyebrow. "Uh, Willow? Are you sure it's a good idea to call them over here?" he asked, concern flickering in his eyes.

With an exaggerated roll of her eyes, Willow prepared to respond, but Freddy picked her up before she could get a word out. "Aunt Willow!" he shouted gleefully, squeezing her tightly. "What are you doing here?"

A warm smile spread across Willow's face as she hugged him back, her heart swelling with affection. "I'm here to talk to your dad. Could one of you go and get him for me?"

Always eager to help, Cove immediately raised his hand and yelled, "I'll do it!" before taking off like a whirlwind.

"I'll wait here for him," Willow called after him, her smile lingering. "In the meantime, Freddy, this is your Uncle John Dory and Aunt Poppy." She leaned in slightly, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "And Aunt Poppy is going to marry your Uncle Branch someday."

Freddy's giggle echoed in the warm air, his eyes widening with delight as he noticed the blush creeping up Poppy's cheeks. "Ew, really?" he teased, his face lit up with mischief.

"Do you mind taking them to see your mom? Poppy hasn't eaten anything yet today," Willow asked, shifting her focus back to Freddy, hoping he would take the hint.

"I can do that!" Freddy declared, his enthusiasm infectious, as he let go of Willow and tilted his head thoughtfully. "But have you eaten anything yet, Aunt Willow?"

"No, she hasn't," Poppy said with a playful smirk, clearly enjoying the moment. She glanced at Willow and flashed her a cheeky grin. "Your Aunt Willow hasn't eaten anything today."

Willow shot Poppy a glare, feeling a mix of annoyance and amusement. Seriously, traitor.

Freddy crossed his arms, trying to look serious despite his playful demeanor. "You've got to eat something," he insisted, channeling his best impression of an adult. "Mom says that's how you grow big and strong. You're pretty small, even compared to Dad. Is it because you don't eat right?"

Willow pinched the bridge of her nose, stifling a chuckle at Freddy's earnestness while Poppy struggled to contain her laughter. "No, sweetie," Willow explained patiently, looking up into his curious eyes. "I'm just short. It's not because I don't eat properly."

She then turned her gaze to Freddy, her expression softening. "Can you please take Poppy and John Dory to see your mom? I promise I'll eat something as soon as I talk to your dad." A hint of determination filled her voice, hoping to ease his worries about her well-being.

Freddy narrowed his eyes at her, weighing his options, before nodding in reluctant acceptance. "Alright," he agreed, glancing at John Dory and Poppy. "Mom's in the restaurant; she'll have something for you to eat."

John Dory shifted nervously, casting a quick look at his little sister. "I really think I should stay here to talk to Spru-Bruce with you," he said, wincing as he caught the sharp glare she shot in his direction. "I'm the older brother; he might listen to me better."

"And I'm the one he's more likely to talk to," Willow countered firmly, her voice steady. She softened her gaze a little, adding, "Just go into the restaurant with your nephew. Get to know your brother's kids. They're pretty great."

Before John Dory could voice another protest, Poppy took hold of his arm with a firm yet playful tug. "Come on! I could use some food. I promise Willow will bring your brother in when she talks to him."

With a reluctant sigh, John Dory glanced at Willow again, then forced a smile onto his face. "Lead the way, Poppyseed," he said, trying to muster enthusiasm despite his lingering doubts.

Willow crossed her arms tightly, an exasperated sigh escaping her lips. "C'mon, Bruce. We don't have much time if we want to get Branch."

"Willow!" her voice rang out, and she looked up, feeling a wave of relief wash over her as she spotted Cove and his father approaching. Bruce rushed over; concern etched across his face. "Cove said you needed me. What's going on?"

As Bruce drew closer, Willow's tough exterior crumbled slightly, tears threatening to spill from her eyes. "Willow?" he asked, his voice laced with worry. Before she could respond, her emotions overwhelmed her, and she darted forward, seeking comfort in her brother's arms. Surprised, Bruce stumbled back slightly but quickly wrapped his arms around his little sister. He awkwardly rubbed her back in an attempt to soothe her. "It's okay, little sis. It's okay. Can you tell me what happened?"

Willow pulled away just enough to look at him, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "We know where Branch is now," she stammered, trembling. "And it's not good. We really need your help."

Poor Willow is stressed. And it's not going to get better for a while. There's so much left for her to do. There's telling Bruce what's happening, deal with John Dory and Bruce meeting again after twenty-six years of being separated, finding Clay. Way too much to do on such a small amount of sleep. Wish her luck everyone.