The grandfather clock inside the grand marble foyer struck ten, its heavy toll echoing off the cathedral ceilings of the Texas estate.

Elena knelt on the cold stone, tucking a soft wool blanket securely around the frail legs of Mrs. Evelyn Vance.

Elena: Just hold still for another moment, Mrs. Vance. I am nearly done adjusting the footrests.

Evelyn: Thank you, darling. My joints ache terribly today.

Elena: I know. The doctor said the chill in the air makes the inflammation flare up, but I will make you warm chamomile tea right after this.

Evelyn: You are too good to me, Elena. Far better than anyone else in this house.

The front double doors clicked open, followed immediately by the sharp, impatient click of high heels.

Victoria entered wearing a sparkling designer gown, clutching a luxury leather purse, her makeup flawless and her expression sour.

Victoria: Why is she sitting out in the foyer like an eyesore? I told you to keep her in the west wing where my guests won't see her!

Elena: Mrs. Vance wanted to feel the morning sunlight, ma'am. The doctor recommended fresh air and daylight.

Victoria: I don't pay you to interpret doctor notes. In fact, I don't even know why Ethan keeps paying your ridiculous salary!

Evelyn: Victoria, please... don't yell at her. Elena has been taking care of me night and day.

Victoria sneered, dropping her purse onto the mahogany side table with a loud thud.

Victoria: Be quiet, Evelyn. You have lost your mind, and this little leech is just waiting around to get written into the family will.

Elena: That is not true, Mrs. Vance. I care about your mother-in-law's health, nothing else.

Victoria: Shut your mouth! How dare you speak back to me?

Elena kept her head down, tightening the strap on the wheelchair, but Victoria took two furious strides forward.

The tension in the foyer turned ice cold as Victoria raised her palm, ready to strike.