Court III

The sterile, white walls of St. Mary's Private Hospital gleamed under the fluorescent lights. A few of the senior surgeons had gathered outside, taking a brief respite from the high-pressure environment of the operating rooms. Their lunch break was short, but even the briefest pause allowed them a moment to escape the gravity of their demanding profession.

Dr. John Harris, an accomplished senior surgeon known for his sharp wit, leaned against a marble pillar, holding a sandwich in one hand. He chewed slowly, his eyes scanning the bustling hospital courtyard. His colleagues, Dr. Susan Beaumont, Dr. Lisa Harding, Dr. Max Owens, Dr. Jacob Levine, and Dr. Olivia Grant, stood nearby, discussing everything from the latest medical innovations to the latest gossip.

The conversation meandered as it often did, from medical advancements to personal life. Then, Dr. Harding, a younger surgeon in her late thirties with an easy smile, brought up the subject of a case she had been following.

"Have you guys heard about that Blackwell case? The inheritance battle? It's insane, the way these people are fighting over all that money."

Dr. Harris chuckled, rolling his eyes. "Yeah, it's absurd. You'd think they had nothing else to do with their lives but bicker over a fortune." He took another bite of his sandwich, the disdain clear in his tone. "Take us, for example. All those years in medical school, the sleepless nights, the blood, sweat, and tears... We work our butts off, and still, there are people out there who were just born into wealth and inherit billions. And they want more."

Dr. Olivia injected and said "its trillions not even billions they could buy a small country"

"Can you imagine?" Dr. Harding added, shaking her head. "How greedy can they be?"

The group fell into a brief, uncomfortable silence as they considered this. The idea of people already having it all yet still fighting for more seemed absurd to them.

Dr. Harris sighed dramatically, his eyes narrowing as he glanced across the courtyard at a few of his peers. "It's maddening. Here we are, busting our backs saving lives, and then you have people like that. They inherit all this money and just fight over it for kicks."

Just then, Dr. Mark Turner, another senior surgeon, stepped out into the courtyard, catching the tail end of the conversation. With his rugged good looks and effortless charisma, he had a way of commanding attention without trying. He wore a relaxed expression as he approached, a hint of amusement in his eyes.

"So, what are we talking about here?" he asked, joining the group.

Susan Beaumont, one of the senior surgeons, a level-headed woman with striking green eyes, raised an eyebrow. "You're all talking about that inheritance case. The Blackwell family?"

Mark nodded, leaning in slightly, his arms folded across his chest. "What do you think about it, Susan?" he asked, his voice warm but inquisitive.

Susan smiled slightly, her eyes narrowing with careful thought. "I don't know them. I don't know what they're going through, what their motives are. It's easy to judge from the outside, but we don't have all the facts."

Dr. Harding snorted. "What could they possibly be going through? They have all that money. What's left to fight over?"

Susan didn't respond immediately. Her face remained calm, but the others could sense her discomfort with the casual dismissal of the situation. Mark, however, looked at her for a long moment, his expression unreadable. He seemed to be weighing her words, considering the depth of her perspective.

Finally, he spoke. "You're right, Susan. We don't know what's going on behind the scenes." He turned to the others. "But it's not our place to assume we know their motives."

Dr. Harding shook her head, still skeptical. "I can't imagine a situation where I'd fight that hard over something I don't even need."

Mark just shrugged. "That's the point, isn't it? People want what they feel is owed to them. Even if they already have everything."

The conversation drifted as they finished their quick lunch, the topics bouncing back to their usual work-related chatter. But for some reason, Susan's perspective lingered in Mark's mind. There was something about it that made him pause.

Meanwhile, inside the courtroom, the case continued to unfold.

Back in the courthouse, Godfrey Baldwin, the former legal counsel for Cassius Blackwell, was on the stand, recounting the history of the Blackwell family's succession plans. His hands were steady, his posture upright, and his voice clear as he began his testimony. The courtroom hung on his every word as he began.

"The will you refer to, the one in question... It was made about a year ago, shortly before Cassius Blackwell passed away," Godfrey began, his voice steady and confident. "But before that, there were two other wills."

The tension in the room thickened as the audience leaned in to listen.

"The second will," Godfrey continued, "was created 10 years ago, where Cassius Blackwell left half of Blackwell Investments to both of his children—Alexander Blackwell and Stephanie Riverplate."

A murmur swept through the courtroom, but Godfrey raised a hand to quiet them before continuing. "But the first will, the one made 31 years ago, when Alexander was born, left the entire company to him, with no provisions for Stephanie."

The room fell silent as everyone absorbed this new revelation. Godfrey's words hung in the air like a storm waiting to break. His face remained impassive as he continued.

"The decision to exclude Stephanie, your Honor, was made long before the issues that arose in the most recent will. This goes back to her father's earliest decisions regarding the family's business," Godfrey explained, his tone calm but authoritative.

The judge's gavel echoed through the room, signaling the end of the session. The murmur of whispers resumed as people exchanged looks of disbelief.