Arthur stood up slowly from the marble floor, keeping his eyes locked on Evelyn.
The large American flag hanging in the grand atrium framed his wife's sharp silhouette.
Father Arthur: What just happened up there, Evelyn?
Mother Evelyn: Nothing happened, Arthur. You are overreacting as usual.
Clara stood up carefully while holding the crying child in her arms.
Nanny Clara: That is not true, Mr. Vance! She yelled at him while he stood on the edge!
Evelyn glared down at the nanny with pure anger in her dark eyes.
Mother Evelyn: Mind your own business, Clara! You are just hired help here!
Father Arthur: Do not speak to her like that when she just saved our son!
Arthur took three large steps toward the base of the white marble staircase.
His heart beat fast against his ribs as years of suspicion suddenly bubble up.
He had noticed small bruised marks on Leo's soft arms earlier that week.
Evelyn had claimed the toddler had bumped into the coffee table while playing.
Now Arthur wondered if he had been blind to the real truth inside his home.
Father Arthur: Tell me why you were screaming at a two-year-old child!
Mother Evelyn: He dropped his juice on my designer rug, Arthur!
Mother Evelyn: I was simply teaching him a lesson about being careful!
Nanny Clara: You pushed your foot toward him and scared him into falling backward!
Evelyn's face turned pale for a moment before she mask her fear with fury.
Mother Evelyn: You treacherous little girl, how dare you make up such lies!
Arthur put his hand on the smooth wooden banister and started walking up.
Each step felt heavy as the atmosphere in the atrium grew thick with tension.
Father Arthur: Clara has been with us for a year and has never lied once.
Father Arthur: Why would she invent a story about my own wife?
Mother Evelyn: Because she wants to ruin our marriage and take my place!
Arthur stopped halfway up the stairs and looked at his wife with deep disgust.
Father Arthur: That is the most absurd excuse I have ever heard from you.
Leo continued to cry softly into Clara's shoulder at the bottom of the stairs.
The sound of his son's distress cut through Arthur's heart like a sharp knife.
He remembered how Evelyn had complained about having a baby from the start.
She cared more about her high-society dinners than taking care of her child.
Arthur took another step up the marble stairs, his fists clenched tightly at his sides.
Father Arthur: You have crossed a line today that you cannot uncross, Evelyn.
Mother Evelyn: What are you going to do, Arthur? Threaten your own wife?
Father Arthur: I am going to protect my son from anyone who harms him.