The nursery air felt thin, sharp, and frozen in time.

Elena knelt on the white faux-fur rug, her fingers locked over the tiny chest of seven-month-old Maya.

Elena: Come on, sweet girl. Breathe. Please, breathe.

Two short breaths. Thirty steady compressions. She counted under her breath, ignoring the stinging ache in her wrists.

Elena: One, two, three, four... stay with me, Maya.

The bedroom door flew open with a violent crack that echoed off the white marble hallway.

Victoria: What on earth are you doing to that child?

Victoria stood in the archway, her designer beige blouse trembling with fury, gold bracelets rattling around her wrists.

Elena: She wasn't breathing! I found her blue in the crib!

Victoria: Step away from her right now!

Elena: She needs CPR! Call 911 immediately!

Victoria: You incompetent fool! How dare you lay your filthy hands on my future stepdaughter!

Victoria lunged forward, her high heels clicking sharply against the polished marble floor.

Victoria: Get your hands off that child!

Elena threw her shoulder up, bracing herself as fingernails dug deep into her uniform.

Elena: Stop! If I stop, her heart will stop!

Victoria: You suffocated her! I knew we couldn't trust an agency maid in this mansion!

Elena: Maya, please... open your eyes, baby girl...

A sudden, desperate cough broke through the tension, followed by a fragile, wheezing gasp.

Elena collapsed back onto her heels, tears running hot down her cheeks.

Elena: She’s breathing. Oh God, she’s breathing.

Victoria raised her hand, her manicured fingers curling into a vicious strike.

Victoria: I am having you thrown out on the street before you ruin this family!

Heavy footsteps thundered down the grand corridor, shaking the glass chandelier above.

Victoria: Marcus! Thank heavens you’re home! Look what she did!

Marcus stepped through the nursery door, but his eyes were not on the nanny.