"I couldn't reach the stairs in time."
She touched one knee.
"So I dropped down and slid."
The father looked at her clothes.
There was dust along one sleeve.
A fresh scrape across the fabric covering her knee.
The polished floor beneath her was slick enough that the story was physically possible.
The mother saw him noticing.
She grabbed his arm.
"You're actually listening to this?"
The father looked at his wife.
"I am listening to everybody."
"Your daughter could have died."
The sentence changed the room.
The father held the little girl tighter.
The nanny looked down.
The mother continued.
"And you're standing here interviewing the person responsible."
The nanny shook her head.
"Please don't say that."
"Why?"
"Because it isn't true."
The mother's eyes narrowed.
"Then why was she falling?"
The nanny hesitated.
That hesitation was tiny.
But everyone saw it.
The mother pointed at her triumphantly.
"Exactly."
The father frowned.
"What?"
"She doesn't have an answer."
The nanny looked toward the staircase.
"I don't know why."
The mother laughed.
"You don't know?"
"No."
"You were standing with her."
"I wasn't."
"Then why were you close enough to catch her?"
"Because I ran."
The mother turned toward her husband.
"Listen to this."
The nanny looked desperate now.
"I was making lunch."
The father asked quietly.
"Where?"
"Kitchen island."
"What was the little one doing?"
"I thought she was upstairs."
The mother spoke immediately.
"With me."
The father looked at her.
"You were upstairs?"
"Yes."
"Where?"
"Our bedroom."
The mother crossed her arms.
"She followed me into the hallway."
The father looked toward the stairs.
"What happened after that?"
The mother's eyes filled.
"She ran toward the stairs."
"Why?"
"I don't know."
The nanny stared at her.
The mother saw it.
"What?"
The nanny said nothing.
"What are you looking at?"
The nanny lowered her eyes.
"Nothing."
The father noticed.
"No."
He shifted his daughter to his other arm.
"You looked at her like you wanted to say something."
The nanny swallowed.
The mother stepped forward.
"This is ridiculous."
The father ignored her.
"What?"
The nanny's eyes moved toward the child.
Then back to the father.
"I heard arguing."
The mother froze.
The father looked at his wife.
"Arguing?"
The nanny continued carefully.
"Upstairs."
"Between who?"
The mother's voice became sharp.
"Do not encourage her."
The father looked at his wife.
"I asked her."
The nanny said:
"I heard Mrs. Sterling."
The father frowned.
"We agreed not to use names with the children around."
The nanny nodded immediately.
"Sorry, sir."