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A modern American suburban living room, evening, soft recessed lighting. Tight close-up: Sarah, a white American woman in her early forties, face flushed with anger and desperation. She steps forward aggressively. "Where is Leo?" Cut to close-up: Richard, a white American man in an expensive suit, scotch glass in hand, cold expression. He takes a slow sip, then says evenly, "You're hysterical. This is why you lost custody." Sarah's hand flies up, finger pointing at his chest. "I tracked his phone. It's pinging from inside this house." Richard's jaw tightens. A flicker of alarm crosses his face before the mask returns. He leans in slightly, voice dropping to a threatening whisper. "Get off my property." Tension hangs between them, barely a foot apart, neither backing down. No logos, no brand names, no watermarks, no text overlays. Cinematic, realistic, grounded tone, no subtitles.