"Don't touch me."
She stopped.
The nanny stood near the kitchen hallway.
She looked as though she wanted to disappear.
The father looked toward her.
"Did you know any of this?"
"No, sir."
"Did my wife tell you to come into the hallway?"
"No."
The older daughter shook her head.
"She didn't know."
The father looked back at the screen.
He replayed the moment.
The nanny running.
Sliding.
Catching.
He paused the frame.
The little girl's body was inches from the floor.
The nanny's arms were beneath her.
The mother was still at the top of the stairs.
Not running.
Not yet.
The father stared at the image.
Then at the nanny.
"You saved her."
The nanny's eyes filled.
"Yes, sir."
The mother shouted:
"Stop saying that!"
Everyone turned.
Her face had changed.
The carefully controlled expression was gone.
She looked desperate.
"It was supposed to be a scare."
The father said nothing.
The mother's chest rose and fell rapidly.
"Just a scare."
The father stared.
"What does that mean?"
"I knew Clara was downstairs."
The nanny flinched at hearing her name.
The father looked at his wife.
"You knew she was downstairs?"
"Yes."
"You told me you didn't know."
"I knew she was somewhere downstairs."
"That's not the same thing."
"I thought she would catch her."
The father looked at the television.
The distance from kitchen to stairs.
The seconds.
The polished floor.
His daughter falling.
"You thought?"
His voice became frighteningly calm.
"You risked our daughter based on a thought?"
The mother began crying.
"I wasn't trying to hurt her."
"What were you trying to do?"
She looked at him.
"Make you stay."
The father did not understand.
"What?"
"You were leaving again."
"For three days."
"You're always leaving."
"I work."
"You choose work."
"I was going to a conference."
"Exactly."
The father stared.
His wife continued.
"You don't see me anymore."
The older daughter began crying harder.
The father looked at her.
Then at the little girl in his arms.
Then back at his wife.
"So you created an emergency?"
The mother wiped her face.
"I needed you to understand."
"Understand what?"
"That I need you."
"You used our daughter."
"No."
"Then what would you call it?"
She shook her head.
"I knew she would be fine."
"How?"
"Clara was downstairs."
The nanny finally spoke.
"No."
Her voice was soft.
Everyone turned.
She looked at the mother.
"You did not know I would make it."
The mother stared.
The nanny's hands trembled.
"I almost didn't."
Silence.