The sound of heavy footsteps echoed down the front hallway as the front door clicked open and closed. David walked into the dining room, holding his leather briefcase and looking exhausted from a long day at the office. He stopped dead in his tracks, looking at his crying son and his wife kneeling on the floor surrounded by red wine stains.
David: What on earth happened in here? Margarethe, why are you on the floor?
Margarethe: David, please do not get upset with Leo. It was entirely my fault.
David put his briefcase down on a side chair and stepped closer to inspect the messy dining table. He picked up the wine glass, his eyebrows furrowing as he spotted the large beetle submerged at the bottom. His face turned stern, but his eyes did not show the same horror that Margarethe had felt moments ago.
David: Where did this bottle come from, Margarethe? I thought all the vintage bottles were locked in the cellar.
Margarethe: The house housekeeper, Clara, brought it up from the kitchen pantry earlier this afternoon before she left.
Leo wiped his nose with his sleeve, looking back and forth between his father and stepmother with cautious eyes. David walked slowly toward the kitchen, his posture stiff and tense as he held the glass in his hand.
David: Clara was not supposed to touch the items in the pantry. She knows those shelves are private.
Margarethe: What do you mean private? It was just a bottle of red wine, David.
Margarethe stood up and followed David into the large, modern kitchen, sensing a strange shift in his voice. Leo crept quietly behind them, staying close to Margarethe's side as if seeking comfort from her now. David stood near the center island, staring at the open pantry door with a strange expression on his face.
David: This bottle was not meant to be opened tonight or served to anyone in this house.
Margarethe: Why? Is there something wrong with the wine cellar inventory?