The marble foyer of the Vance mansion echoed with a sharp, rolling metallic rattle.
Victoria: Move faster, Martha. You are cluttering up my hallway.
Martha: Victoria, please... I can't breathe. Just let me have some water.
Victoria: You have had enough water, and you have had enough air. You've lived in this house ten years too long.
Victoria's manicured hands tightened around the handles of the wheelchair. Her red dress stood out bright against the blinding white marble floor. Up ahead, the grand curved staircase opened up like a cliff edge.
Martha: What are you doing? Stop! Don't take me near the steps!
Victoria: Why not? It's the fastest way down, old woman.
Martha: Victoria, my husband left this estate to me! The trust fund, the house, everything!
Victoria: Your husband is dead, Martha. And his money is about to become mine.
With a sudden, violent shove, Victoria thrust the heavy wheelchair forward. Martha screamed as the front wheels hit empty air. The metal frame plunged down the steep stairs, crashing violently against the marble steps, flipping twice before slamming onto the polished floor below. Martha was thrown clear, her frail body collapsing on the hard stone.
Victoria: You're still alive? What a pity.
At the bottom of the stairs, Martha groaned, bleeding and unable to move. The grand front doors suddenly burst open, letting in a draft of cold air.
Elena: Oh my God! Mrs. Vance!
Carter: Call an ambulance! Right now!
Martha: She... she locked me up... and starved me!
Elena: Carter, wait! Look at what she dropped!
Elena pulled a crumpled, folded document out of her apron pocket and held it out with trembling hands. Carter took it, opening the pages quickly. As his eyes read the bold ink at the top, his breath caught in his throat.
Carter: The cremation is today?
On the upstairs balcony, Victoria froze, her face turning pale as she looked down at the paper in his hands.