Richard: Clara, look at me! Is my daughter breathing? Is she hurt?
Clara: She's terrified, Mr. Sterling, but she's breathing. I caught her right before she hit the floor. Her little blanket saved her from the worst of the friction, but she's shaking like a leaf.
Richard: Thank God. Thank God you were here, Clara. If you hadn't been cleaning the baseboards right by the foyer...
Clara: I heard a strange scuffling sound upstairs right before the scream, sir. It didn't sound like a baby crawling.
Richard: Because it wasn't a baby crawling! Victoria pushed her! I pulled up the live security feed on my phone the second the alert went off, and I watched her lean right over that glass railing!
Victoria: You are out of your absolute mind, Richard! Why would I ever hurt my own stepdaughter? We have a prenuptial agreement, sure, but my name is tied to this trust fund now too!
Richard: Exactly! Your name is tied to the estate, but the bulk of the inheritance goes straight to my daughter on her eighteenth birthday unless something tragic happens to her first!
Clara: Sir, please keep your voice down, the little one is finally starting to calm down against my shoulder.
Richard: No, Clara, I will not keep my voice down in my own house! Every single person in Dallas is going to know what kind of monster I married!
Victoria: It was a slip! She was playing near the drop, and I tried to grab her blanket, but my foot slipped on the polish! You're turning this into a criminal lawsuit over nothing!
Richard: A slip? Since when do you ever go up to the fifth-floor private gallery? You hate heights, Victoria! You haven't stepped foot on that level in six months!
Victoria: I wanted to check the artwork delivery! Am I not allowed to walk through my own multimillion-dollar mansion without being interrogated like a common criminal?
Richard: Not when my daughter's life is hanging in the balance! Clara, take her into the nursery right now and lock the door behind you. Do not let anyone in.
Clara: Right away, sir. Come on, sweet angel, let's get you away from this cold air.
Clara stood up slowly, her knees bruised from the hard marble floor, cradling the infant close as she hurried toward the back corridor. The sound of her soft, reassuring humming faded as the heavy silence returned to the foyer, broken only by the heavy breathing of the enraged father.
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