“Dad, help her!”
“She’s the only one who cares about us!”
The boys’ voices echo as their father rushes in—fast, urgent—dropping to his knees beside her.
“Helena— stay with me!”
The camera pushes in.
Tight.
Close.
The boys freeze.
He didn’t say the maid.
He said her name.
A small gold locket slips from Helena’s hand—
hits the floor with a soft metallic sound.
One boy bends down, trembling—
picks it up.
Opens it.
CLOSE-UP—
a younger version of their father… smiling inside.
Silence crashes into the hallway.
“Dad… why does she have your picture?”
The camera snaps to the father—
EXTREME CLOSE-UP.
Color draining.
Breath caught.
Helena weakly reaches out from the floor.
“No… please…”
Her voice barely there.
But it’s too late.
The second boy unfolds a small paper that slipped free.
Hands shaking.
He stares at it—
then reads.
“Baby Boy A…”
A pause.
The words hang heavy.
“…this has my birthday.”
A low heartbeat fills the silence.
The father slowly steps back.
Like the ground beneath him just disappeared.
Helena’s eyes fill with fear.
Begging.
Breaking.
The boy looks up—
voice barely a whisper—
“Who is she…?”
The father opens his mouth—
nothing comes out—
—and just before the truth explodes—
