The bright crystal chandeliers of the charity gala hall reflected off the polished marble floor, but nobody was looking at the decorations. In the middle of the room, a young girl sat on the checkered tiles, her knees pulled tight against her chest as she sobbed loudly.
Clara: Sweetheart, can you look at me? It's okay. You're safe.
Clara knelt beside the weeping child, her burgundy suit jacket brushing against the cold floor. Her hands gently framed the girl's face, wiping away tears that mixed with faint red scratches on her pale cheeks.
Maya: I didn't do it... I promise I didn't touch it...
Clara: Shh, take a deep breath. I know you didn't.
Victor: She stole the vial!
A tall man in an expensive black tuxedo stepped forward, his leather dress shoe stopping inches from a small glass vial and a opened black equipment case lying on the marble.
Victor: That girl snuck into the VIP lounge and took a multi-million-dollar trial medication right out of my container!
Clara: She is eight years old! Look at her face, she's terrified!
Victor: I don't care how old she is! Security, arrest this child immediately!
The crowd surrounding them gasped, whispering back and forth as security guards began pushing through the onlookers.
Clara: Step away from my child.
Clara stood up slowly, reaching into her inner coat pocket and holding up a silver badge with bold blue letters.
Victor: What is that supposed to be?
Clara: Medical Fraud Division, National Commission. Touch her, and you'll be leaving this building in handcuffs.
Victor raised his hands in a defensive, surprised gesture, his face flushing red as Clara stepped directly between him and the little girl.