In the distance, the wailing howl of emergency sirens cut through the heavy quiet of the suburban neighborhood.
Julian: Who called the police? Evelyn, did you call them?
Evelyn: I told the guard to call private security, not the county police!
Maya: I called them from my car before I sprinted through your garden gate. I told the dispatcher there was an ongoing attempt of deliberate poisoning and domestic endangerment.
Julian: Are you out of your mind? Do you know what this will do to the company stock? Do you know what this does to our reputation?
Clara: You care about stock prices while our baby’s life was on the line?
Julian: Clara, think about your future! You have no money, no career, no assets without me! Your mother's assisted living facility costs eight thousand dollars a month. Who do you think pays that bill?
Clara: You used my mother's illness to buy my silence.
Evelyn: We saved you from poverty, girl! We brought you into high society, gave you diamond jewelry, introduced you to politicians and philanthropists! You owe us everything!
Clara: I owe you nothing. Not my life, and certainly not my child's life.
Heavy boots pounded up the front porch steps, followed by loud, urgent banging against the double front doors.
Police Officer: County Sheriff’s Department! Open the door immediately!
Julian: Don't open that door! Clara, let me talk to them first. Let me handle this. We can settle this privately with our family lawyers.
Clara: The time for private settlements is over, Julian.
I walked past him, stepping straight over the shattered porcelain and spilled brown tea, and turned the heavy brass deadbolt on the front door.
Two armed deputies stepped inside, their hands resting on their utility belts, scanning the tense room.
Deputy Miller: We received a 911 report regarding an assault and attempted poisoning. Who is Clara Vance?
Clara: I am Clara Vance. And I want to press full criminal charges against my husband and his mother.