Mark: I don't know what to believe right now. My head is spinning, and my child almost lost her life on these steps.
Victoria: There is nothing to think about, Mark! Pack her bags and throw her out into the street! If you don't fire her this instant, I'm calling the family lawyer and reporting you to child protective services for keeping a criminal around your baby!
Clara: You're doing this on purpose, Victoria. You've wanted me gone ever since you moved into this house last month!
Victoria: How dare you address me by my first name! I am Mark's fiancee! I am going to be the mistress of this estate, and I will not be insulted by hired help!
Mark: Silence! All of you! My daughter is terrified, the house is in chaos, and I cannot make a rational decision with all this noise!
A soft footstep sounded near the base of the grand fireplace. Ten-year-old Chloe, Mark’s eldest daughter from his first marriage, stepped out from behind the heavy velvet curtains. Her fingers were tightly wrapped around a small black remote control, her young face pale and entirely calm despite the storm raging around her.
Chloe: Dad... look at this.
Mark: Chloe, sweetie, go back upstairs to your bedroom. This isn't something you should be seeing right now.
Chloe: No, Dad. You need to look at the screen right now.
Victoria: Chloe, darling, don't interrupt your father. He is dealing with a dangerous situation. Go to your room like a good girl.
Chloe: Don't call me darling. And don't tell me what to do in my mother's house.
Mark: Chloe, what do you have in your hand?
Chloe: It’s the master remote for the security network. The one Uncle Rick installed last summer when he upgraded the mansion's smart system.
Victoria: What security system? I thought the internal cameras were turned off for privacy during the renovation!
Chloe: The contractor turned them back on yesterday morning. They record directly to the cloud server, and the main monitor is right here.
Chloe lifted the remote and pressed the center button, pointing it directly at the massive sixty-inch television mounted above the marble fireplace. The screen flickered from a black blank display to a sharp grid of video feeds. Clara stopped breathing, holding her hands against her mouth as she stared at the glowing monitor.
Victoria: Mark, this is ridiculous! We don't need to waste time watching old videos while a child attacker stands in our foyer!
Mark: Shut up, Victoria. Chloe, hit play.
Chloe: I already skipped to five minutes ago. Watch the top landing frame, Dad.
The screen zoomed in on camera number four, which had a crystal-clear, high-definition view of the second-floor hallway. The bright daylight lit up every corner of the landing, showing the wooden railing, the brass fixtures, and the top of the spiral staircase. The playback bar began to move, and the time stamp in the corner ticked forward second by second.
Mark: My God...
Clara: Look... please, Mr. Sterling, look at the screen!