David: Someone call an ambulance right now! My wife is in labor!
Toby: She's not in labor, mister. Her hand is cold because of the lock.
David: Shut up, you little street brat! You don't know what you're talking about! Security, throw him out!
Guest 1: Look at her face! Those aren't marks from a fall, David!
Guest 2: My God, her wrists are bleeding under those silk sleeves!
Two heavy security guards rushed across the polished marble floor toward the stage, but before they could lay a finger on Toby, an elderly woman in a sharp navy suit stepped directly into their path[cite: 1]. It was Margaret Vance, David’s grandmother and the true head of the family trust fund.
Margaret: Stop right there! Nobody touches this child until I get a clear explanation!
David: Grandmother, please! Sarah is hysterical! She fell down the grand staircase at home three days ago, and her doctor said she was too frail to travel! I only brought her here because she begged me!
Sarah: I didn't fall... Oh God, I didn't fall...
David: Sarah, sweetie, calm down! You're confused! The medication Doctor Evans gave you is making you hallucinate!
Toby: The doctor didn't give her medicine, old lady. The doctor gave him the keys.
A heavy silence fell over the grand hall[cite: 1]. Margaret turned her piercing gaze toward the boy in brown overalls, her silver cane tapping sharply against the light marble floor[cite: 1].
Margaret: Who are you, young man? And how did you get past the front gates?
Toby: My name is Toby. My big sister works in the kitchen at the Vance house. She sent me here with this.
Toby reached deep into the front pocket of his canvas overalls and pulled out a small, rusty iron key tied to a piece of dirty twine. David’s eyes went wide with pure panic as he lunged forward to snatch the key out of the boy's small hand.
David: Give me that!
Margaret: Don't you dare touch him, David!
Margaret raised her heavy mahogany cane and struck David’s arm, knocking his hand away with a solid crack. David stumbled back, clutching his wrist while glaring at the boy with venom in his eyes.
Sarah: Toby... please... tell her... tell my grandmother-in-law...
Toby: The lady in the chair isn't sick, ma'am. She's been locked in the wine cellar under the north wing for four months.
Guest 1: The wine cellar?! Four months?!
Guest 2: Is he saying David kept his pregnant wife locked underground?!
David: It's a lie! This is an extortion attempt! Someone paid this kid to ruin my reputation before the board election today!
Toby: I didn't get paid nothing, mister. My sister heard her crying through the laundry chute every night. Yesterday, my sister found this key in your tuxedo jacket while she was pressing your suits.
Sarah sobbed louder, her shoulders shaking uncontrollably as she pressed Toby's hand against her bruised cheek[cite: 1]. The silk blanket covering her lap shifted slightly, revealing heavy steel restraint cuffs wrapped around her ankles, padlocked together with a thick chain.
Margaret: My God... David... what have you done?!