Richard arrived moments later, his footsteps echoing sharply against the marble as he took in the scene before him — his pregnant wife on the ground, shattered crystal scattered everywhere, and Rosa kneeling protectively beside her. His mind, still catching up with the chaos, latched onto the most immediate and visible fact available to him. "You pushed my wife!" he shouted, striding forward with an accusing finger already extended toward Rosa, his face contorted with a fury that seemed almost disproportionate given the circumstances still unfolding around them. "Richard, wait," Emily started, still trying to catch her breath, still trying to process everything that had happened in the span of barely ten seconds. But Richard wasn't listening, his attention fixed entirely on Rosa, his expression carrying an intensity that seemed to extend beyond simple concern for his wife's wellbeing. "She's pregnant," he continued, his voice rising further, "and you shoved her onto the floor like it was nothing." Rosa rose slowly to her feet, meeting his furious gaze steadily despite the accusation hanging heavy in the air between them. "The chandelier was falling," she said calmly, gesturing toward the destroyed fixture scattered across the marble behind her. "I pushed her out of the way. If I hadn't, she'd be lying under that wreckage right now." Richard's expression faltered slightly as his eyes finally moved toward the shattered chandelier, taking in the scale of the destruction for the first time. But something in his hesitation, something in the way his gaze lingered a beat too long on the wreckage rather than his wife, sent a small, cold flicker of unease through Rosa's chest.