Clara: Mr. Sterling? Excuse me, sir. The baby has finally fallen asleep in her crib, but I found something strange on the balcony floor right where Mrs. Sterling was standing.
Richard: What did you find, Clara? Bring it down here.
Clara: It's a pair of heavy-duty leather grip gloves. The kind used for industrial lifting. They were shoved behind the planter pot.
Victoria: Shut up! That's a lie! You planted those there yourself to frame me!
Clara: Mrs. Sterling, my hands were bare when I caught the baby, and I was cleaning the white marble near the stairs. Why would I need heavy grip gloves to dust a baseboard?
Richard: Industrial grip gloves. Exactly what you'd need to hold a squirming child over a glass railing without your fingers slipping on smooth marble or polished wood.
Victoria: You're both conspiring against me! This is a setup by the domestic staff to push me out of my own household!
Richard: Clara has been with this family for five years. She has more integrity in her little finger than you have in your entire engineered body, Victoria.
Clara: I only care about that little girl's safety, sir. No child should ever have to experience something that terrifying.
Richard: And she won't ever again. Clara, I am promoting you to head estate manager effective immediately, with a triple-salary bonus to match your loyalty and bravery.
Clara: Thank you, Mr. Sterling, but right now I just want to make sure our little girl is safe upstairs.
Richard: Go back up to her, Clara. Lock every door on that floor. I'm handling the trash down here right now.
Victoria: You can't just throw me out! I demand my designer luggage! I demand my personal lawyer!
Richard: You can have your luggage mailed to a motel room after the police finish gathering your fingerprints off those gloves.





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