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A modern American suburban kitchen, late afternoon. Harsh natural light streams through large windows. All characters are white American actors with realistic, natural appearances. The floor is wet, tracked with muddy footprints. A wine glass lies shattered on the hardwood, red liquid pooling around the shards. Close-up: David, a white American man in his mid-thirties wearing soaked business clothes, stands rigid near the kitchen island, his jaw clenched. His two children huddle behind him—Lily, a white American girl around seven with scraped knees, and Leo, a white American toddler with wet hair, shivering in his father's arms. Across the island stands Elena, a white American woman in her early thirties wearing a floral sundress. Her posture is unnaturally calm. She takes a slow sip from her wine glass, her eyes cold and calculating. David pulls out his phone and turns the screen toward her. His voice is low, controlled: "The camera caught everything." Elena's face drains of color. The wine glass slips from her hand. It hits the floor in slow motion, shattering. Her mouth opens but no sound comes out. Cut to: Blue and red police lights flashing through the kitchen window, reflecting off the broken glass on the floor. No logos, no brand names, no watermarks, no text overlays. Cinematic realism, grounded tension.