Charles Sterling stood frozen at the entrance, his dark velvet coat dusted from the road.
His eyes traveled from the trembling maid clutching the screaming baby to his wife standing tall by the grand piano.
Charles: What is going on here?
Victoria: Charles, darling! Thank goodness you are back! This incompetent maid just dropped the baby!
Clara: That is a lie! That is a wicked, disgusting lie!
Victoria: How dare you raise your voice to me in front of my husband?
Clara: Mr. Sterling, she threw him! She tossed him across the piano like a bag of trash!
Victoria: Do you really believe this girl over your own lawful wife?
Charles stepped forward, his heavy boots making hollow thuds against the checkered marble.
His jaw was clenched tight, the veins bulging along his neck like cords.
Charles: Clara. Stand up.
Clara: I can't let him go, sir. He's shaking so badly.
Charles: Let me see him.
Clara rose slowly to her feet, her maid uniform rumpled and stained with tears, holding the infant out toward the master of the house.
Charles looked down at the tiny, reddened face, his hands trembling as he touched the soft cheek.
Charles: He is burning with fever. Why hasn't the pediatrician been called?
Victoria: I was just about to call the clinic, Charles, before this drama started.
Clara: She threw away the medicine bottle two hours ago! She poured it down the kitchen sink!
Victoria: Shut your mouth, Clara!
Charles: Victoria, stop talking right now.
Victoria: Excuse me? Are you siding with the domestic staff over me?
Charles: I asked you a simple question yesterday before I left for the city. Where are the medical records?
Victoria: Why do you care about some orphan's records when our estate dinner is in two hours?
Charles: Because this child is my late brother's sole surviving flesh and blood!
The ballroom went dead silent, except for the baby's ragged sobs.
Victoria: He is a burden on our wealth, Charles. He has no claim here.
Charles: He is the named heir to the family trust fund, and you know it.
Victoria: That trust fund belongs to us! We manage this entire property!
Charles: Not if you abuse the child placed under our legal guardianship.
Victoria's mask of composure began to crack, her eyes narrowing into cold slits.
Victoria: You have no proof of anything. It's my word against an underpaid maid's.
Clara: God saw what you did, Victoria. And the truth always comes out.
Victoria: God doesn't pay your salary, Clara. Get out of my house before I have the police drag you away for trespassing!
Charles: Nobody is leaving this room until I get the truth.
Victoria: Then fire her right now, Charles! Choose right now between her and your wife!
Charles stared at his wife as if looking at a complete stranger, his heart sinking into cold dread.
Charles: WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!
Victoria flinched backward, stepping against the piano keys, causing a chaotic, ringing chord to reverberate through the hall.
Charles: RUN, Clara! Take the boy up to the private quarters and lock the door from the inside!
Clara pulled the blanket tight around the infant and ran toward the grand staircase without looking back.
Victoria: You will regret this day, Charles. You will regret ever questioning me.
Charles walked straight toward his desk, pulling a brass key from his coat pocket with sudden resolve.
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