PART 1: The Intruder in the Garden

“You should start packing your bags right away, because the moment they read that will tomorrow, this entire estate is going to be ours.”

Tabitha’s voice sliced across the white rosebushes before I had even lifted my head from my work.

Her costly heels sank into the damp earth of my father’s garden as though she were walking a fashion runway instead of stepping across the soil he had tended for half his life.

I kept trimming the dead branches with my pruning shears, working slowly and precisely, exactly as my father had taught me when I was young.

He always said to keep a steady hand while avoiding unnecessary damage to anything still alive.

He had planted those particular roses on the day I married Calvin, explaining that white represented new beginnings.

Looking back now, the irony was nearly unbearable. Those same flowers had remained while my twelve-year marriage came apart.

They had survived even after my former husband left me for his assistant—the woman now standing in front of me, wrapped in expensive perfume and absolute entitlement.

“Good morning, Tabitha,” I said softly, denying her the satisfaction of eye contact.

She gave me the sugary, artificial smile she always wore when she planned to humiliate someone quietly.

“Everett’s will is being read tomorrow morning, and Calvin and I think it would be best if we talked like adults before things get uncomfortable.”

I wiped my dirt-covered hands against my gardening apron and rose to my full height.

Even in her absurd designer heels, she was still several inches shorter than I was.

“There is absolutely nothing for us to talk about, as this is my father’s house.”

“It is actually your father’s estate,” she corrected, lingering over the final word.

“Calvin was like a son to him for a very long time, so the least we can expect is to receive what is rightfully ours.”

The weight of the metal shears felt heavy in my hand as a cold wave of anger moved through me.

“Are you talking about the same Calvin who cheated on his wife with his own secretary?” I asked, keeping my voice low and controlled.

“Oh, please, all of that is in the past now,” she said, flicking one hand as though brushing away an annoying insect.

“Everett forgave him, and they continued to go to the country club together every Sunday right until the very end.”

The end had arrived too quickly for all of us.

Only three weeks had passed since we buried my father after an eight-month struggle with illness.

I had not had enough time to tell him everything I wanted to say or ask why my brother, Kyle, had pulled away from me and moved closer to Calvin.

“My father didn’t leave Calvin a single cent,” I said firmly, certain that my father had many flaws but foolishness was never one of them.

For an instant, Tabitha’s confidence flickered.

“We will see about that tomorrow, especially since Kyle doesn’t seem to agree with your assessment.”

A chill ran through me at the mention of my brother.

“Have you been speaking with my brother behind my back?”

She moved closer and lowered her voice into a private hiss.

“Let’s just say he has helped me understand your father’s true mental state during those final months.”

I tightened my grip on the shears until my knuckles whitened and my fingers began to ache.

My father always said roses should be handled firmly but never harshly because even their sharpest thorns served a purpose.

“Get off my property, Tabitha,” I told her, “before I forget how to be polite to a guest.”

She released a short, dry laugh that scraped against my nerves.

“Your property? How sweet of you to think that you can keep this fortune all for yourself while the rest of us just sit back and watch.”

“My father built every inch of this house and planted every tree with his own hands, so this isn’t just about money to me.”

“Wake up, because everything in this world is about money,” she snapped.

“Tomorrow you are going to learn that lesson the hard way.”

She turned toward the gate, but before leaving, she threw one final cruelty over her shoulder.

“You really should start packing, because Calvin and I are going to remodel the second we move in.”

“We are going to start by ripping out these old fashioned rosebushes since everything here needs a more modern look.”

Her heels clicked along the stone path until she disappeared.

I looked down and realized my muddy hand had crushed several delicate petals.

I took out my phone and called a number I knew from memory.

“Attorney Penelope, it’s me,” I said as soon as she answered.

“Tabitha just came here to threaten me.”

Her professional voice immediately shifted into concern.

“What exactly did she say to you, Paige?”

“She said exactly what we were afraid of, so I need to know if you can come over right now.”

“I am on my way,” she replied firmly, “and you shouldn’t worry because your father thought much further ahead than any of them.”

After ending the call, I noticed something trapped beneath the leaves of one rosebush.

It was a small envelope, damp from the morning dew and marked with my father’s unmistakable handwriting.

My name appeared on the front.

I lifted it with trembling fingers.

The paper seemed heavier than it should have, as though it carried one final move in a game I had not realized we were playing.

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