Victoria: What are you talking about? The estate technicians disabled all internal cameras for the wedding redecoration!
Ethan: The public security cameras were disabled, Victoria. The private feeds were not.
Victoria’s breath hitched in her throat. She looked up at the ornate plaster molding along the high ceiling, her eyes darting across the crystal chandeliers.
Victoria: You... you put a wire in this house?
Ethan: I placed a high-definition lens inside the eyes of the teddy bear sitting on Toby's crib.
Victoria: That is an illegal wiretap! That is a gross invasion of my personal privacy!
Ethan: This is my private residence, Victoria. And the nursery belongs to my son. I have every legal right to monitor his crib.
Ethan pulled a sleek digital tablet from his inside suit pocket. He unlocked the screen with his thumbprint, tapping twice on an encrypted folder labeled with yesterday's date.
Ethan: Chief Harris, bring the portable monitor forward.
The head of security stepped up, placing a portable display screen on the marble console table beneath the large American flag. Ethan plugged the tablet directly into the screen.
Victoria: Ethan, stop! Do not play whatever that girl staged!
Ethan: Clara didn't stage this, Victoria. Look at the screen.
The screen flickered to life in crystal-clear high definition. The video timestamp showed yesterday afternoon at two o'clock. On the monitor, Victoria walked into the quiet nursery carrying a cup of iced coffee. Little Toby was crying in his crib, kicking his legs against the mattress.
Victoria slammed her coffee cup onto the changing table, stormed over to the crib, and yanked the four-month-old infant upward by his arms.
"Shut up, you worthless little parasite!" Victoria’s recorded voice blasted through the foyer speakers. "Your mother is dead, and your father is mine now! Cry all you want, nobody cares about you!"
The video showed her shoving Toby down onto the bare hardwood floor of the nursery before locking the door from the outside.
Ethan: Is that what you call strict discipline, Victoria?
Victoria: That... that video is an AI deepfake! Anyone can generate video files on a computer now!
Ethan: The digital file is cryptographically watermarked by the state security registry, Victoria. It cannot be altered or fabricated.
Victoria: Ethan, I was having an emotional breakdown! I had panic attacks all week from wedding stress!
Ethan: Wedding stress made you call a four-month-old baby a parasite?
Victoria: I lost my temper for five seconds! That does not make me a criminal!
Ethan: That was yesterday, Victoria. Now let us look at what you did this morning at eight o'clock.
Ethan tapped the screen again. The new video showed the grand foyer. Victoria walked down the curved staircase holding Toby upside down by his ankles for several horrifying seconds before dropping him three feet onto the marble floor.
Then came Clara rushing into the frame, begging on her knees, followed by Victoria raising her hand and striking the young maid with full force.
Ethan: You dropped my infant son from three feet in the air onto solid stone.
Victoria's legs began to shake. She collapsed against the side of the grand piano, her knuckles white as she gripped the polished wood.
Victoria: Ethan... please... we can fix this. I will see a doctor! I will take parenting classes!
Ethan: You will not see a doctor, Victoria. You will see a state judge.
Victoria: You cannot send me to prison! Think of the scandal! The Vance name will be dragged through the mud!
Ethan: The Vance name is about to be completely erased from the business registry.
The heavy front doors swung open once more, and Detective Miller of the Dallas Police Department walked into the foyer, flanked by three uniformed officers.
Detective Miller: Mr. Sterling. We received your remote cloud upload fifteen minutes ago.
Ethan: Thank you for your prompt arrival, Detective. The suspect is standing right there by the piano.