The scream echoed through the high-ceilinged foyer before Richard could even make it to the living room doorway.
Clara: Richard! Help! Oh God, Richard!
Richard bolted through the hallway, his heart hammering in his chest as his expensive dress shoes skidded on the polished hardwood floors.
Richard: No! No, God, no!
He threw his hands out, diving toward the base of the grand staircase just as the tiny, bundled body slipped past the white wooden banister.
Clara: She slipped! Richard, grab her!
With a desperate slide across the gleaming floorboards, Richard caught baby Maya in his arms, pulling her tightly against his chest.
Richard: I’ve got you! I’ve got you, baby. Daddy’s got you.
The infant wept loudly against his shoulder, her tiny fingers clutching at his suit collar as Richard lay panting on the floor, trembling from the sheer adrenaline.
Clara: She slipped, Richard! It was an absolute accident! I swear to you! She was wriggling and I lost my grip!
Richard pushed himself up off the floor, his face flushed red with pure rage, his hand raising instantly to strike Clara across the cheek with an alarming open-palm slap.
Richard: You did this on purpose!
Clara: Ow! Richard, please! I would never hurt our child!
Richard: Never touch my daughter again! Do you hear me? Never touch her again!
Clara clutched her red face, tears flooding her eyes as she backed away toward the stairs while Richard held Maya like a precious shield.
Clara: You think I tried to kill our daughter? Are you completely insane?
Richard: I know what I saw, Clara! You let go of her! You hate that she’s going to inherit everything!
Clara: Inherit? What are you even talking about? She’s six months old!
Richard: Get out of my sight before I call my estate lawyer and have you thrown out on the street with nothing!
Clara stood frozen on the stairs, staring at her husband as if he had suddenly turned into a complete stranger.
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