Jake: Evelyn... what did you just say to me?
Evelyn: Jake, don't be ridiculous! Look at her, she's clearly out of her mind with fever or shock! Why on earth would I do something like that to your wife?
Jake: Look at her leg, Evelyn! These are fresh claw marks! Human fingernails did this! Someone ripped right through her skin!
Evelyn: Well, it certainly wasn't me! I have been downstairs with the catering team all morning planning your father's estate trust fund anniversary dinner!
Megan: You came into the room... you locked the double doors from the inside!
Jake: Megan, take a deep breath and tell me everything. Start from the beginning. Did she touch you?
Megan: I was sitting on the edge of the bed putting on my lotion... she walked in holding her heavy black handbag. She demanded that I sign the trust fund waiver document she brought with her.
Evelyn: That is a complete and utter lie! I never brought any documents upstairs!
Jake: Shut up, Evelyn! Let my wife speak!
Evelyn: How dare you raise your voice at me in this house! I am the mistress of this estate! Your father put me in charge of the entire property!
Jake: My father is in a meeting in downtown Chicago, and I am standing right here in front of my bleeding wife! Megan, keep talking. What happened next?
Megan: I told her I wouldn't sign anything without you reading it first. I told her that the inheritance belonged to you and your sister, not her. That's when she lost her temper.
Jake: What did she do, Megan?
Megan: She grabbed my hair from behind and shoved me onto the mattress. When I tried to kick her away, she dug her nails into my leg and dragged them down as hard as she could!
Evelyn took a small step backward into the hallway, her face turning slightly red under her heavy makeup, though her smile remained tightly fixed in place.
Evelyn: She is making up a fantasy, Jake! Look at my hands! Do I look like a woman who engages in street fights?
Jake stood up from the edge of the bed, his tall frame towering over the bedroom. He walked slowly toward Evelyn, his boots echoing sharply on the white marble floor.
Jake: Show me your hands, Evelyn.
Evelyn: What? Absolutely not! I will not be interrogated in my own home by a stepson who lives off my husband's generosity!
Jake: I said show me your hands right now!
Jake lunged forward, grabbing Evelyn's right wrist before she could pull back into the hallway. He yanked her hand into the bright daylight streaming through the high-key window.
Evelyn: Let go of me! You're hurting my wrist!
Jake: Look at your fingernails, Evelyn! The polish on your index and middle fingers is chipped, and there's fresh blood dried under the tips!
Evelyn: That... that's rosehip oil from the garden! I was pruning the bushes near the fountain earlier!
Megan: Check her handbag, Jake! The paper is inside her black handbag!
Evelyn's eyes widened in sudden, sheer panic. She pulled back with all her strength, clutching her black handbag against her chest like a shield.
Evelyn: Keep your hands off my personal belongings! This is expensive designer leather!
Jake: Give me that bag, Evelyn!
Jake reached out and snatched the strap of the black handbag, twisting it out of her manicured hands. The heavy brass zipper popped open as Jake unceremoniously dumped the entire contents of the bag onto the pristine white marble floor of the bedroom.
Lipstick, a gold powder compact, keys, and a folded set of white legal documents spilled out across the floor, sliding right to the edge of the bed.