The mother moved first.
She reached for the remote.
"Turn that off."
The older daughter stepped backward.
The father turned slowly.
"Victoria."
His wife froze.
"What on earth did I just watch you do?"
Her eyes widened.
"Richard."
"What did I just watch?"
She shook her head.
"That isn't what happened."
The father looked toward the television.
Then back at her.
"It is literally what happened."
"No."
"You pushed her."
The mother's face twisted.
"No."
"You positioned her beside the stairs."
"Richard, listen to me."
"You looked downstairs."
"Because I heard something."
"You checked whether anyone was watching."
"No."
"You put our daughter there."
"That's not what happened."
The older girl whispered:
"Dad."
The father turned.
She was crying.
His anger disappeared for half a second.
"What?"
"I saw it."
The mother snapped:
"No, you didn't."
The older daughter flinched.
The father stepped closer to her.
"Tell me."
Her voice shook.
"Mom was mad."
The mother's face hardened.
"Lily."
The father raised one hand.
"Do not."
His wife stopped.
He looked at the girl.
"Why was she mad?"
The older daughter stared at the floor.
"Because you said you were going to Chicago."
The father frowned.
His business trip.
A three-day conference.
His wife had been upset.
More upset than usual.
She said she hated being alone with the children.
He had offered to cancel.
Then she insisted he go.
The older daughter continued.
"She said you were always leaving."
The mother shook her head.
"She's confused."
The girl looked up.
"I'm not."
The mother stared at her.
The father saw fear return to his daughter's face.
He moved between them.
"Keep going."
The girl swallowed.
"Mom said people only care when something bad happens."
The father's skin prickled.
"What?"
"She said if something happened, you'd stay."
The mother laughed nervously.
"She's twelve."
The father looked at her.
"Stop using her age as evidence that she didn't hear you."
The older daughter continued.
"She brought Emma into the hallway."
The little girl in the father's arms shifted when she heard her name.
He kissed her forehead.
The older daughter wiped her eyes.
"I thought she was just talking."
The father waited.
"Then she told me to go to my room."
"But you didn't."
The girl shook her head.
"I stayed."
The mother spoke.
"Because you were spying."
The father turned.
His wife realized too late how terrible the sentence sounded.
The older daughter whispered:
"Then Mom told Emma to stand by the stairs."
The father closed his eyes briefly.
"No."
The mother approached.
"Richard."
He stepped back.