Arthur: Security! Arrest this psycho! She assaulted me!
Nora: You just struck a six-year-old child with a solid iron bar! You belong in a cage!
Arthur: She stole my three-million-dollar heirloom diamond broach! She belongs in a juvenile detention center!
Two large security guards in black suits rushed across the ballroom floor, stepping between Nora and the gasping billionaire on the floor.
Guard One: Ma'am, stay right where you are! Do not move!
Nora: I’m not moving anywhere until an ambulance gets here for my daughter!
Lily: Mommy, my head hurts so bad...
Nora: I know, sweetie. Squeeze my hand. Keep holding the cloth against your forehead.
Arthur: Search her! Search the kid’s pockets right now!
Guard Two: Mr. Montgomery, let us get the child first aid first—
Arthur: I said search her! I pay your salaries! My wife’s broach was in my coat pocket two minutes ago before that little beggar walked past me!
Nora: Don't you dare touch my daughter! If any of you lay a finger on her, I will file federal assault charges against this entire hotel!
Arthur: Federal charges? Look at you! You’re wearing a off-the-rack dress! You came in here as a guest’s plus-one!
Nora: My dress cost more than your monthly mortgage payment, Arthur. But you wouldn't know real class if it bit you in the face.
Arthur: You arrogant bitch! You came here to rob wealthy donors!
Nora: My daughter reached for a strawberry cupcake from the buffet table! She never went near your coat!
Arthur: The broach is gone! My pocket is empty!
Nora: Then maybe you dropped it because you’ve had five glasses of scotch since eight o'clock!
A circle of wealthy gala guests gathered around the scene, whispering loudly as they held up their smartphones to record the altercation.
Guest A: Did Arthur really hit a little girl with a metal stand?
Guest B: I saw it! He swung it right at her head!
Guest C: But what about the Montgomery diamond? That broach belonged to his late mother!
Arthur: See? Everyone knows that broach is priceless! She targeted me!
Nora: Check her pockets yourself then, you coward! Let the whole room see that she has nothing!
Arthur: Fine! Guard, check the kid's small purse!
Guard One: Ma'am, please allow us to inspect the purse so we can clear this up quickly.
Nora gently unclipped the tiny pink strawberry-shaped purse from Lily’s shoulder and unzipped it in front of the crowd. She turned it upside down, dumping the contents onto the white tablecloth of the dessert display.
A pack of cherry fruit snacks, a small plastic hair clip, and a half-drawn crayon picture of a cat tumbled out onto the cloth. There was no diamond broach. There were no jewels of any kind.
Nora: Is this your three-million-dollar diamond, Arthur?
Arthur: She... she passed it off! She passed it to an accomplice before you kicked me!
Nora: An accomplice? She’s six years old! She doesn't even know what a diamond broach is!
Arthur: You trained her to steal! You’re her accomplice!
Nora: You just hit a helpless child over a lie you fabricated in your drunk mind!
Arthur: Lock the doors! Nobody leaves this hall until my broach is found!
The heavy oak doors of the grand ballroom slammed shut as hotel staff turned the locks, trapping three hundred high-society guests inside the suffocating, tense room.