Arthur: Sarah! What happened?! What's going on in the pool?!
Evelyn: Calm down, Arthur! It's just a swimming lesson! The boy needs to learn how to be brave!
Arthur: A swimming lesson?! He doesn't know how to swim yet, Mother!
Under the water, Sarah kicked hard, her fingers brushing against Toby's arm. She wrapped both hands around her son's waist and pulled him up toward the sunlight with every ounce of strength she possessed. They both broke the surface together, coughing and gasping for air as Sarah kicked frantically to keep them afloat near the tiled edge.
Sarah: I've got you! I've got you, baby! Breathe, Toby, breathe!
Toby: Mommy! Mommy! I couldn't breathe!
Sarah: You're safe now, sweetheart! Hold onto my neck!
Arthur sprinted along the patio, his dress shoes squeaking loudly against the wet concrete tiles. He dropped to his knees at the edge of the deep end, stretching his long arms out over the water to grab his crying son.
Arthur: Hand him to me, Sarah! Give me his arm!
Sarah: Take him, Arthur! Please, lift him up!
Arthur pulled the shivering, dripping boy up onto the concrete, pulling him tight against his expensive suit jacket without caring about the water soaking his fabric. Sarah grabbed the pool ladder and pulled herself out, collapsing on her knees beside them while rubbing Toby's back.
Arthur: Toby, buddy, look at me! Are you okay? Did you swallow water?
Toby: Daddy... Daddy, she hit me!
Arthur froze, his heart slamming against his ribs as he stared into his son's tear-filled eyes. Toby wiped his face with a trembling hand, his breathing heavy and ragged as he pointed an accusing finger directly at the older woman sitting nearby.
Toby: She hit me on my shoulder and threw me in the water! She wouldn't let me get my floaties!
Arthur: She did what?!
Evelyn: Don't be absurd, Arthur! The boy is lying to cover up his own weakness! He tripped because he's clumsy!
Sarah: He's six years old, Evelyn! He almost drowned right in front of you while you sat there drinking tea!
Evelyn: Watch your tone, Sarah! You are a guest in my son's house, and I will not be spoken to like this by a former nanny!
Arthur stood up slowly from the pool edge. His jaw clenched so tightly his teeth ground together, his face twisting into an expression of pure, unbridled fury. A deep, angry growl escaped his chest as he turned his gaze toward his mother.
Arthur: You put your hands on my son?
Evelyn: Arthur, listen to reason! His grandfather built this estate, and a Sterling man must be strong!
Arthur: YOU DARE TOUCH MY CHILD IN MY HOUSE?!
Arthur stormed across the patio in two giant strides, his shadow looming over the lounger. Before Evelyn could react or move her glass, Arthur reached out and violently shoved the heavy lounge chair with both hands, sending his mother crashing sideways onto the concrete with a loud, metallic smash.