Evelyn: Sister? Have you lost your mind, Emma? You are marrying my son, the heir to the Sterling estate, and you're hugging a maid in front of our guests!
Emma: Look at this picture, Evelyn! Look at her face! This is my biological sister, Maya, whom I was separated from at the state adoption agency fifteen years ago!
Evelyn: That is impossible! You were adopted from an elite agency in Chicago! This girl is just a common house cleaner we hired through a temp service last week!
Chloe: Emma? Is it really you? They told me you were adopted by a family overseas... they told me I would never see you again!
Emma: I never stopped looking for you, Maya! I searched every state register! I spent thousands of dollars on private investigators after I turned eighteen!
Chloe: My name is Chloe now... the foster home changed it after you left. But I kept the locket photo in my pocket every single day.
Emma reached out and touched Chloe's damp, freezing face, wiping away the mixture of ice water and tears with the sleeve of her expensive lace gown.
Emma: I don't care what name they gave you. You are my blood, and nobody will ever treat you like garbage again.
Evelyn: This is ridiculous! I will not have my daughter-in-law creating a dramatic scene with the domestic staff minutes before the caterers serve dinner!
Emma: You just threw a glass of ice water directly into my sister's face, Evelyn!
Evelyn: She stepped on my dress! She's incompetent! I have every right to discipline the staff in my own mansion!
Chloe: I didn't step on it, ma'am... I stumbled because the hallway floor was already wet from the ice bucket!
Emma: She didn't stumble, Maya. Evelyn has been looking for an excuse to bully anyone she considers beneath her ever since I signed the prenup agreement last month.
Evelyn: Watch your tongue, Emma! You are marrying into wealth and status today. You should be thanking me for keeping this estate running smoothly!
Emma: Status? Wealth? You treat human beings like trash because you have a trust fund!
Julian, the groom, rushed down the carpeted hallway in his sleek black tuxedo, his face pale as he heard the shouting echoing off the high ceilings.
Julian: What is going on out here? Emma, why are you crying? Mother, why are you yelling at the staff?
Evelyn: Julian! Thank goodness you're here! Your bride has lost her sanity! She's holding onto this clumsy maid and making wild claims about being related to her!
Julian: What? What maid?
Emma: Look at her, Julian! Look at the locket in her hand and look at the photo I keep on my nightstand every night!
Julian stepped closer, his eyes scanning the vintage polaroid held firmly in Emma's trembling fingers. His jaw dropped as he looked from the faded photo to the girl in the uniform standing before him.
Julian: Oh my god... Emma, she has the exact same birthmark on her collarbone as the girl in your childhood album.
Emma: It's her, Julian! It's Maya! The sister I've been praying to find for fifteen years!
Evelyn: Julian, do not encourage this delusion! Even if she is related to her, we cannot have a maid standing at the head table at our high-society wedding!
Julian: Mother, shut up for once in your life!
Evelyn: How dare you speak to your mother like that!
Julian: You just splashed water on my fiancee's sister! Do you have any idea what you've done?