The bright summer sun beat down on the wide suburban backyard, turning the water of the swimming pool into a glittering sheet of blue. Victoria stood on the hardwood deck, her chest rising and falling as she stared at her stepmother, Brenda. Brenda wore a dark purple designer dress that draped over her shoulders like royal robes, her eyes cold and calculating as she stepped closer to the edge of the water.
Brenda: You should have stayed in the city, Victoria. Coming back to this house was your biggest mistake.
Victoria: This is my father's house, Brenda. You don't get to push me out of my family home.
Brenda: Your father is too old to notice what is happening. I run this estate now, including the entire inheritance.
Victoria: I know about the missing trust fund money! I found the bank records yesterday!
Brenda: Then you know too much, little girl.
With a sudden, furious movement, Brenda shoved both hands against Victoria's shoulders. The force sent Victoria flying backward through the air. The quiet afternoon shattered with a massive splash as Victoria hit the pool water, sinking instantly into the cold blue depth.
Bubbles rushed past Victoria's face as the water muffled every sound from the surface. She kicked her feet frantically, her lungs burning for air as she struggled to pull herself back up. The surface seemed miles away, but she forced her body upward, cutting through the water until her head broke through into the hot summer air. She gasped violently, her fingers reaching out to grab the wooden edge of the poolside deck.
She gripped the warm wood with all her strength, gasping for breath as water poured down her wet face. But before she could pull her legs up, a sharp high-heeled shoe slammed down directly onto her knuckles. Victoria shrieked in pain as Brenda leaned down, pressing her heavy heel harder into Victoria's fingers.
Brenda: You really thought that man would choose you? He belongs to me now, and so does his money.
Victoria: Get off me! You're hurting my hand!
Brenda: You are nothing but a nuisance, Victoria. A small bug in my path.
Victoria: My father loves me! He will never forgive you for this!
Brenda: He won't even know. I will tell him you slipped and fell like a fool.
Inside the grand house, past the wide glass patio doors, Victoria's father, Arthur, walked down the hallway. He wore a dark navy suit and carried a massive bouquet of red roses, intending to celebrate his anniversary. But as he reached the glass patio door, he stopped dead in his tracks. He saw Brenda kneeling over the pool edge, stepping firmly on his daughter's bleeding hand.
Arthur dropped the large bouquet of roses to the hardwood oak floor with a soft thud. His jaw tightened, his face turning pale before flushing with pure rage. He slid the glass door open with a loud bang, his dark suit jacket catching the bright sunlight as he stepped out onto the deck.
Arthur: Say that again!
Brenda: Arthur! It's not what it looks like, she slipped!
Arthur: Shut your mouth!
Arthur stepped forward fast, his long stride closing the distance in a second. Before Brenda could even stand up straight, Arthur's hand flew forward in a sharp, blinding motion. The slap echoed across the open backyard like a gunshot. Brenda's head turned sharply to the side as she staggered backward, clutching her bright red cheek in utter shock.