A child's voice sliced through the thick tension like a knife.

"That's not Liam's mother. Amy is."

Alexander had already risen from the floor and was at Amy's side in an instant, his strong hands helping her up. His usually composed face was etched with worry.

"Amy, are you hurt?" His voice was low, urgent.

Amy met his gaze, the intensity in his dark eyes making her breath catch. For a moment, she couldn't speak.

"I'm fine," she managed, though her voice trembled.

She tried to stand, leaning on Oliver's small frame, but her legs were still unsteady. The shock had left her weak.

Oliver, small for his age, wobbled under her weight. He braced himself, his little arms straining—but she was too heavy for him.

Just as she started to tip, a firm hand caught her elbow, steadying her.

"Careful."

The deep voice sent a shiver down her spine. She looked up into Alexander's cool, aristocratic face. Instantly, her expression hardened.

She tried to pull away, but his grip tightened slightly. "Liam isn't stable yet. Don't you want to see him?"

Amy hesitated, conflict flashing in her eyes.

Oliver tugged at her sleeve. "Amy, let's go to the hospital together, okay?"

Her gaze softened as she looked down at him. She squeezed his hand and nodded. "Alright."

Alexander's eyes flicked to Oliver, the ice in his expression thawing just a fraction.

Meanwhile, Victoria stood frozen, watching as the three of them moved toward the ambulance. The whispers around her grew louder.

"Who is that woman? She was making such a scene, accusing the boy's mother of being a gold-digger."

"Who cares about money when their child is dying? That woman is pure evil."

"She physically blocked the paramedics, then tried to bribe people. That's not just cruel—that's criminal."

"The real mother had an emergency inhaler ready. That other woman didn’t even know what to do. Sounds like a wicked stepmother to me."

"I was at the next table. The father stepped away to take a call, and suddenly the boy was choking while eating with her. Suspicious, don’t you think?"

"Classic villainess. Only a fool would trust her."

Victoria's face burned with humiliation. She hurried after them, avoiding the accusing stares.

Inside the ambulance, the air was thick with tension. Amy took a disinfectant wipe from the paramedic and gently cleaned the scrapes on Oliver's arm.

He flinched, pulling back with a soft hiss.

"Does it hurt?" Amy asked, her voice gentle.

Oliver swallowed hard, then offered his arm again. "I'm okay. You can do it, Amy."

The paramedic smiled. "Is he your son? He's very brave."

Amy opened her mouth to correct her, but then she saw the hopeful look in Oliver's eyes. She hesitated, then smiled softly. "Yes, he is."

Just then, a sharp voice cut through the quiet.

"Ms. Sinclair, isn’t this crossing a line?"