Arthur: Is this... is this real?
Nunn: I started recording from the hallway, sir. I saw her filling the kettle and walking toward the nursery chair with that look on her face.
Margarethe: Arthur, listen to me! She staged that! She edited it or used some kind of trick! Why would I ever hurt your son?
Arthur: You filmed this whole thing, Nunn?
Nunn: Every second of it, Mr. Vance. Look at her hand in the clip. She intentionally tilted the spout right over the baby's head while he was sleeping.
Margarethe: It was an accident! I was just bringing hot water for the tea tray and I tripped!
Arthur: Tripped? You were standing completely still in the video, Margarethe!
Margarethe: You're going to trust a hired servant over the woman you're supposed to marry next month?
Arthur: Take Leo to my study right now, Nunn. Lock the door from the inside and do not let anyone in until I come get you.
Nunn: Yes, Mr. Vance. Right away.
Nunn clutched the crying infant tightly against her chest, turning on her heel and rushing out of the sunlit living room into the grand corridor. Arthur waited until the heavy oak door of his study slammed shut in the distance before he turned his gaze back to Margarethe.
Margarethe: Arthur, sweetie, please calm down. You're letting your temper get the best of you.
Arthur: Don't call me sweetie. Don't even look at me right now.
Margarethe: I love that boy! Why would I ever hurt Leo? He's your son, he's part of our family!
Arthur: He's my late wife's son. He's the sole heir to her estate and her family trust fund. Is that why, Margarethe?
Margarethe: That is an offensive lie! I don't care about the estate or the money!
Arthur: Really? Because my estate lawyers told me yesterday that if anything happened to Leo, his trust fund reverts back to my control—and by extension, whoever I am legally married to.
Margarethe: That is pure coincidence! I didn't even know about the terms of his trust!
Arthur: You knew. My family lawyer sent over those draft documents last week, and I saw them sitting open on your vanity table.
Margarethe: I was just glancing at them! I didn't read the details!
Arthur: You think I'm stupid, don't you?
Margarethe: I think you're paranoid! You've been acting crazy ever since the wedding date got closer!
Arthur: You stood over an innocent six-month-old infant with boiling steam, Margarethe. That isn't paranoia. That's pure evil.
Margarethe: I didn't pour it on him! You saw the video, nothing touched him!
Arthur: Because Nunn stopped you! If she hadn't run into that room, what would I be looking at right now? A hospital room? An emergency room banner?
Margarethe: It was a moment of stress! I've been overwhelmed with the wedding planning, with taking care of a house that isn't mine, with raising another woman's child!
Arthur: No one forced you to stay here. No one forced you to wear that diamond ring on your finger.
Margarethe: So what are you saying? You're throwing me out over a misunderstanding caused by a maid?
Arthur: Misunderstanding? I'm calling the police, Margarethe.
Margarethe: You wouldn't dare. Think about the scandal! Think about what your board of directors at the firm will say if your fiancee gets arrested in your penthouse!
Arthur: Let them talk. Because by the time the police finish reviewing Nunn's video, you won't just be leaving this penthouse—you'll be going straight to a holding cell.
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