Victoria: Mary? That stupid, useless little dishwasher?
From the back of the ballroom, near the service doors, a young woman in a black-and-white maid uniform stepped forward through the crowd[cite: 1]. She was holding a small silver USB flash drive in her hand[cite: 1].
Mary: I'm not a dishwasher, Victoria. My name is Mary, and my mother worked for Mr. Vance for twenty years before you fired her without her pension[cite: 1].
Victoria: You little thief! I let you live in the servant quarters out of the kindness of my heart!
Mary: You let me live in a unheated basement room and made me work eighty hours a week for minimum wage while you spent fifty thousand dollars a night on designer dresses[cite: 1]!
Victoria: I gave you a job when no one else would hire you!
Mary: You hired me because you thought I was too stupid to understand what you were doing when you made me scan your financial receipts into your private server every night[cite: 1]!
Samantha: Mary copied every single wire transfer log, every offshore invoice, and every forged signature document onto a backup drive for two straight years[cite: 1].
Mary: Every time you slapped me across the face, Victoria... every time you threw wine at my uniform... I added another file to Miss Samantha's folder[cite: 1].
Victoria: You backstabbing, ungrateful vermin! I'll make sure you rot in a cell right alongside her!
Samantha: Mary is receiving full immunity from the United States Attorney's Office for her cooperation[cite: 1]. And tomorrow morning, she assumes her new role as Executive Administrator of the Vance Charitable Foundation[cite: 1].
Mary: With a real salary, a real retirement package, and full health insurance[cite: 1].
The crowd burst into quiet whispers of approval, several elderly board members nodding their heads in agreement[cite: 1]. Victoria looked around the room in absolute horror, realizing that not a single person in the venue of three hundred guests was going to step forward to help her[cite: 1].
Victoria: Julian... please... you've known me for fifteen years! Talk to the prosecutor! Tell them I was under extreme mental distress!
Julian: I have a professional obligation to protect the company, Victoria[cite: 1]. And right now, the company's sole owner is standing right behind you in the white tuxedo[cite: 1].
Victoria: Samantha... please... we are family! Your father loved us both! We can share the estate! You can have forty percent!
Samantha: Five years ago, I knelt on the cold floor of my father's study and begged you to give me three days to pack my mother's old photo albums before you locked me out[cite: 1]. Do you remember what you said to me, Victoria?
Victoria: I... I don't remember... I was emotional...
Samantha: You looked down at me, stepped on my hand with your high heel, and said, "Trash belongs in the dumpster."[cite: 1]
Victoria: I was wrong! I was arrogant! Please, Samantha, don't do this to me in public!
Samantha: Public humiliation is the least of your concerns tonight[cite: 1]. Listen closely[cite: 1].
From outside the grand arched windows of the ballroom, the sharp, wailing sounds of police sirens echoed up the long estate driveway[cite: 1]. Red and blue lights flashed against the glass, illuminating the large American flag displayed proudly on the far wall[cite: 1].