Arthur: Where... where did you get this picture?
Maya: My foster mother gave it to me before she passed away...
Clara: Arthur, darling, don't listen to her! She probably stole it from our storage room!
Arthur: Be quiet, Clara!
Arthur's hands trembled as he held the faded paper closer. The baby in the photograph had a small, birthmark on her right wrist, shaped like a tiny crescent moon.
Arthur: Young lady... turn your arm over.
Maya: What?
Arthur: Show me your wrist. Right now.
Maya slowly pulled back the long black sleeve of her uniform. There, clearly visible on her pale skin, was the exact same birthmark.
Arthur: THIS... THIS IS MY DAUGHTER! YOU'RE MY DAUGHTER!
The entire banquet hall gasped in unison. Conversations died down instantly, leaving the massive room in dead silence. Clara stood frozen, her mouth open in horror as her red dress seemed to drain the color from her face.
Clara: No... no, that's impossible! Your daughter died nineteen years ago in the hospital!
Maya: I didn't die... I was taken away...
Arthur: My baby girl... my sweet Lily...
Arthur stood up from the table so fast his wooden chair fell backward onto the marble floor. Tears welled up in his eyes as he looked down at Maya, who was still kneeling beside his chair.
Maya: I didn't know who you were until I saw the picture in your study last week, sir... I mean, Dad.
Arthur: You've been working in my house as a maid? Under my own roof?
Maya: I was scared to tell you. I thought you wouldn't believe me.
Clara: Arthur, this is a scam! She forged that photo! She wants your money!
Arthur: Shut your mouth, Clara!
Arthur turned toward Clara, his chest heaving with pure, uncontrollable rage. His face turned dark red as he stepped around the table. Before Clara could take a step back, Arthur swung his arm and slapped her forcefully across her cheek. The sharp sound echoed off the high walls.
Clara: Ah! How dare you hit me in front of everyone!
Arthur: YOU TOUCHED MY DAUGHTER?! GET OUT OF MY LIFE!
Clara: Arthur, please! Listen to me! I didn't know!
Arthur: It doesn't matter if you knew or not! You hit a defenseless girl! You treat everyone around you like garbage!
Clara clutched her swelling red cheek, tears of humiliation ruining her heavy makeup. The wealthy guests around them whispered loudly, pointing their fingers at her.
Arthur: Security! Remove this woman from the premises immediately!
Clara: You can't do this to me! I am your wife!
Arthur: Not for much longer. My divorce lawyer will have the papers delivered to you by midnight.