The grandfather clock in the grand foyer chimed softly, its rhythm echoing through the tall, empty halls of the lakeside estate. Arthur adjusted his tie in the reflection of the dark oak paneling, waiting for the front doors to be unlocked.

Inside, tension hung thick in the air like dust before a storm. High above the hardwood floor, near the second-floor balcony, small feet stepped hesitantly along the white railing.

Clara: Stepmom... please, I don't want to play up here. It's too high.

Evelyn: Stand still, Clara. You wanted to see the garden from the balcony, didn't you? Stop being so dramatic.

Clara: My foot slipped! Help me!

Evelyn: Reach for my hand! Hurry!

A sudden, terrifying sharp breath cut through the hall, followed by the terrible sound of rushing air. Evelyn jerked her hands back, her rings glinting under the recessed ceiling lights as her jaw dropped in sudden shock.

Down below, the heavy double doors swung open with a deafening bang. Arthur stepped inside, holding a leather briefcase, his eyes sweeping across the foyer just in time to see a small form hit the polished oak floor.

Arthur: No! Clara!

The briefcase slammed onto the floor, its metal latch snapping open as papers scattered across the entry rug. Arthur sprinted forward, his heart hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird.

Evelyn: Arthur! Oh God, Arthur! She slipped!

Arthur: Get out of my way!

He dropped to his knees on the hard wood, his hands trembling violently as he gathered his seven-year-old daughter into his arms. The little girl sobbed uncontrollably, her small fingers clutching tightly at his suit jacket.

Arthur: Daddy's here, sweetheart. I've got you. Look at me, where does it hurt?

Clara: Daddy... she... she pushed my hands away...

Evelyn: That's not true! She's lying because she's scared! Arthur, you have to believe me, I tried to catch her!

Arthur froze, his chest rising and falling in heavy, ragged breaths as he slowly lifted his head toward the staircase.