Nann adjusted the heavy brass tray in her hands, her heart pounding against her ribs as she walked down the polished hardwood hallway of the sprawling suburban mansion. The sound of high heels echoed sharply from the living room, followed immediately by the desperate, piercing wail of a three-week-old baby.

Nann: Oh dear God, no...

She set the tray on a side table and sprinted toward the sunlit living room. What she saw made her blood run cold. Vanessa, dressed in an immaculate white slip dress, stood over the white armchair holding a heavy, steaming silver kettle directly above little Noah's crying face.

Nann: GET AWAY FROM THAT BABY!

Vanessa: Don't you dare touch me, you worthless maid!

Nann didn't hesitate. She lunged forward, swooping baby Noah into her arms and shoving Vanessa back just as boiling water splashed onto the armrest where the baby’s head had rested a second before. Heavy footfalls thumped behind them as David, his blue velvet robe trailing behind him, burst into the room.

David: What on earth is happening in here?! Nann, why are you screaming?

Vanessa: David! Thank God! She almost scalded him! She was pouring it over his chair! She's out of her mind!

David: DON'T TOUCH HER!

David stepped between them, shielding Nann and his son. Vanessa's eyes flashed with rage, but David wasn't looking at her face—he was looking at her hands. She was holding her smartphone up, recording the whole scene with a cold, calculated smile.

David: DELETE THAT! YOU FILMED THIS?! TAKE HIM TO MY STUDY, NANN! CALL 911 NOW! 🇺🇸

Nann pressed the baby tight to her chest and ran into the study, slamming the heavy mahogany door shut. As the sound of screaming exploded outside, Nann looked down at the tiny baby in her arms, realizing the nightmare in this house was only just beginning.