Chapter 1 - “FINALLY, EVERYTHING WILL BE OURS”
“The doctor gave him three days,” Amber whispered beside the bed. “Finally. As soon as he dies, the house, the accounts, and the company will be mine.”
“And I’m keeping the sports coupe,” Ruby, her daughter, replied. “I can already picture myself driving it all the way to Miami.”
Calvin Buffington remained motionless, his eyes closed and his breathing heavy.
The painkillers allowed him to pretend he was asleep, but he heard every word.
At sixty-six years old, he had built one of the most successful nurseries and landscaping businesses in Atlanta from nothing.
Forty years earlier, he had owned only a rusty pickup truck, a few tools, and Barbara, his first wife, who had sold her jewelry to buy their first trees.
Together, they had also restored a classic sports car, ivory-colored with cream leather seats.
Barbara used to say that old cars had souls, as long as someone cared for them with love.
When she died nine years earlier, Calvin kept the car covered for almost two years.
Sitting behind the wheel felt like hearing her laughter inside the garage all over again.
Then he met Amber at a charity dinner.
She seemed kind, attentive, and admired hardworking men.
They married a year later.
Ruby, already an adult, entered his life asking for help with credit cards, trips, and failed business ventures.
Calvin paid, avoided arguments, and convinced himself that this was how he built a family.
Until that afternoon in the hospital.
The CT scan showed an unusual mass in his liver, along with a severe infection.
Dr. Robert Gable was cautious.
“We need a biopsy. It could be serious, but I’m not going to make a diagnosis without the results.”
“Speak clearly,” Amber demanded. “Could he die this week?”
“In the worst-case scenario, his condition could deteriorate within a few days.”
When the doctor left, Amber smiled.
Then she adjusted Calvin’s blanket, gently touched his forehead, and said the words that finally broke something inside him.
Later, she and Ruby stood in the hallway discussing selling apartments, throwing away Barbara’s old sofa, and having a cheap funeral.
Calvin clenched his teeth until they hurt.
That evening, Elias Herrick arrived.
He had been Calvin’s driver for thirty years and was the friend who had slept at the hospital when Barbara died.
He brought a thermos of atole from his wife.
Calvin told him everything.
“First, let’s get another opinion,” Elias said. “My brother-in-law was also told he was dying because of a spot, and it turned out to be an abscess. I know a specialist in Nashville.”
Calvin grabbed his arm.
“Help me, and you’ll never have to work again.”
“I’ll help you because you’re my brother, not because of money.”
The next morning, Calvin requested copies of his medical records.
Amber tried to stop him.
Ruby mocked him for “refusing to accept reality.”
But Elias sent the files, and Calvin secretly called Paula Neff, the lawyer who had handled his affairs for twenty years.
“Do not sign anything,” Paula ordered. “I’ll be there tomorrow. And have them put in writing that you are conscious and fully competent.”
Just then, Amber entered carrying a leather folder and three documents.
“They’re just powers of attorney to pay taxes, move money between accounts, and protect the company while you rest.”
Calvin looked up.
“I’ll review them with Paula.”
Amber’s smile disappeared for a second.
Then she picked up the papers and, as she walked out, muttered to Ruby:
“I’ll talk to the doctor. He needs more sedatives.”
Calvin heard every word and pressed the button to call the nurse.
In that moment, he realized that his wife wasn’t simply waiting for him to die.
She was already trying to take control before it happened.
What Amber did not know was that Calvin had started recording before she entered.
Not because he expected a confession.
Because Paula had told him:
“From now on, preserve everything.”
The phone lay facedown beneath his blanket.
Amber’s voice was clear.
So was Ruby’s.
So was the sound of the leather folder being opened.
Then Calvin heard Amber say something else in the hallway.
Lower.
Almost lost beneath the wheels of a medication cart.
“Once I get his signature, Langley can move the nursery before the biopsy comes back.”
Calvin opened his eyes.
Langley?
He knew only one Langley connected to his company.
Warren Langley.
Vice president of acquisitions.
A man Calvin had fired six years earlier for trying to sell development rights attached to one of Buffington Nursery’s oldest farms without board authorization.
Calvin had not spoken to him since.
Why was Amber talking to Warren Langley?
He turned the phone recording off.
Then called Elias.
“Come back.”
“What happened?”
May you like
“The second opinion just became the smaller problem.”
---
