The morning sun cut through the tall glass windows of the grand entrance hall.
Mark stood near the staircase while holding his leather briefcase tightly in his hand.
He was a busy business manager who worked long hours every single day.
His young daughter Claire sat quietly on the soft rug near the fireplace.
She kept her face turned down toward the dark wooden floorboards.
Mark: Are you ready for school, little girl?
Claire did not answer her father right away.
She pulled her blue sweater sleeves down over her small wrists.
Claire: My tummy hurts today, Daddy.
Mark checked his silver watch with a small sigh of fatigue.
Mark: Your stepmother Eleanor said you were just resting yesterday.
He reached down and gently touched his daughter's soft hair.
Mark: You have to go to class today, sweetheart.
A quiet footstep echoed from the top of the marble stairs.
Eleanor walked down slowly while wearing a long silk robe.
Eleanor: She is just fine, Mark.
Eleanor smiled warmly as she approached the front hall.
Eleanor: She had a small fall in the play room last night.
Mark looked closely at Claire's small pale forehead.
Mark: Did she hit her head on something?
Eleanor: She slipped on her wooden building blocks while playing.
Claire stayed completely silent and stared at her own shoes.
Claire: I fell down, Daddy.
Mark felt a faint wave of worry deep inside his heart.
He had to leave for an important board meeting across town.
Mark: Please take good care of her while I am away.
Eleanor: You know I love her like my own child, Mark.
Mark kissed Claire's small cheek before walking out the front doors.
The heavy oak doors closed with a loud heavy thud behind him.
Claire watched the shadow of her father disappear into the bright driveway.
Eleanor: Go up to the utility room right now, Claire.
The sweet tone in Eleanor's voice completely vanished in an instant.
Eleanor: You spilled milk on the marble tiles yesterday afternoon.
Claire: It was an accident, Stepmom.
Eleanor: Clean it up completely before the housekeepers arrive today.
Claire picked up a small blue washcloth from the hall basket.
She walked slowly down the long dark side hallway alone.
Her small heart beat fast inside her tight little chest.
She knew her father would be gone for many hours.
Nobody else in the vast house could hear her soft crying.
She kneeled on the cold stone floor with her washcloth.
The cold floor made her tiny knees ache with pain.
She scrubbed at the faint white stain on the marble floor.
Claire: Daddy... please come back home early today.