Victoria: How could you even ask me such a disgusting question?
Ethan: Because Maya didn't crawl to the edge of an eight-foot landing by herself, Victoria.
Victoria: I was in the kitchen pouring tea! I heard a thump and ran into the foyer just as Hannah dropped her!
Hannah: That is a complete lie! You followed me out of the nursery on the second floor!
Victoria: Be quiet, you little parasite! Know your place in this mansion!
Ethan: Stop yelling at her, Victoria. Hannah, speak to me. What happened at the top of the stairs?
Hannah pulled herself up against the wooden banister, her knees shaking so hard she could barely stand.
Hannah: I had just changed Maya's clothes after her afternoon nap, sir. I was carrying her down to the garden like you asked.
Victoria: She was rushing down the stairs while looking at her cell phone!
Hannah: My phone was on the charging stand in the nursery! Mrs. Vance blocked the top landing and grabbed Maya's swaddle blanket!
Victoria scoffed loudly, smoothing back her blonde hair with a dismissive wave.
Victoria: Ethan, listen to how ridiculous this story sounds. Why on earth would I touch that screaming baby?
Hannah: Because you told me you were sick of looking at her late mother's eyes!
The entire grand entryway went dead silent, except for Maya's soft, rhythmic breathing against Ethan's collarbone.
Ethan's head snapped toward Victoria, his dark eyes burning with dangerous intensity.
Ethan: Did you mention Claire?
Victoria: Of course not! Hannah is making up dramatic fairy tales because she knows Claire's memory is your weakness!
Hannah: She snatched Maya out of my arms, Mr. Vance! She held her over the railing and said this house would never truly be hers until Claire's blood was gone!
Victoria: You psychotic little girl! Ethan, call the police right now! I want her arrested for slander and child endangerment!
Ethan: Oh, the police are already on their way, Victoria. I pressed the silent dispatch alarm on my key fob the moment I pulled into the gate.
Victoria's haughty expression froze, a sudden twitch appearing beneath her left eye.
Victoria: You... you called the police on your own home without consulting me?
Ethan: My daughter was lying motionless on the floor when I walked through those doors. You thought I would just sit down and chat?
Victoria: But having cruisers outside our front gates will ruin our reputation! My charity gala committee meets tomorrow!
Ethan: I don't give a damn about your charity gala, Victoria.
Victoria: Well, you should care about our family name! And you should care about who is actually responsible for this mess!
Hannah: Mr. Vance, please look at the landing carpet. There are scuff marks where I tried to hold Mrs. Vance's arms back.
Ethan glanced toward the top of the sweeping double staircase, noticing the ruffled runner rug near the banister post.
Victoria: Those marks are from the vacuum cleaner this morning! Hannah didn't even clean the hallway properly!
Hannah: I vacuumed yesterday afternoon, ma'am. Not today.
Victoria: You see how she talks back? She has zero respect for the lady of this house!
Ethan: You became the lady of this house eighteen months ago, Victoria. But you seem to forget the conditions under which you signed our marriage certificate.
Victoria folded her arms tighter, turning her chin away with an irritated scoff.
Victoria: Here we go again. Bringing up the prenuptial agreement every single time we have a minor household disagreement.
Ethan: An injured infant is not a minor household disagreement.
Victoria: Maya isn't even injured! Look at her, she stopped crying! She’s perfectly fine!
Ethan: She has a red bruise spreading across her left shoulder blade, Victoria.
Victoria glanced at the baby's shoulder, her eyes widening for a fraction of a second before hardening into cold stone.
Victoria: Then Hannah must have squeezed her too tight when she dropped her. That’s battery. Hannah should go to prison.
Hannah: I would never harm a single hair on that angel's head! I stayed up all night rocking her when she had colic last week!
Victoria: Because you are paid sixteen dollars an hour to do it! Don't act like you're Mother Teresa!
Ethan: Hannah isn't going to prison today, Victoria.
Victoria turned on her heel, her sharp designer heels clicking aggressively against the Italian tile.
Victoria: If you don't press charges against this careless maid, Ethan, I will! I am your wife, and I will not allow our child to be abused by hired help!
Ethan: She isn't our child, Victoria. She is Claire's and mine. And you made it abundantly clear how much you resent that fact.
Victoria: Claire is dead! Why does every single conversation in this mansion have to revolve around a ghost?
Ethan stepped forward until he was standing just inches from Victoria, his voice dropping to a low, lethal whisper.
Ethan: Because that ghost left behind a trust fund that you have been trying to liquidate since the week we returned from Paris.