Alexander could hardly process the words. His wide eyes locked onto Amy's face as he whispered, "Amy, did you... did you really agree to come with me?"

Amy's smile softened as she nodded. "Yes, Oliver. I'll be there this time."

In a heartbeat, Oliver threw his arms around Amy's waist, his small frame trembling with excitement. "You're the best, Amy! The absolute best!"

Watching the boy dance around the room, Amy felt an unexpected tightness in her chest.

Liam had always been ashamed of her—never once inviting her to school events. But Oliver? He'd asked so tentatively, then exploded with joy at her simple yes. The contrast cut deeper than she cared to admit.

"Oliver," Amy hesitated, fingers twisting in her sweater. "Are you certain you want me there?"

The boy's smile vanished. "Don't you want to go?"

"It's not that." She knelt to his level. "What if... what if I embarrass you?"

Oliver's tiny hands framed her face with startling seriousness. "But you're beautiful, Amy. Like a princess in Liam's storybooks." His nose scrunched. "Besides, who cares about winning? I just want you there."

A shadow crossed his face then, his voice dropping to a whisper. "I've never had anyone for parent days. Dad's always working, and..." He swallowed hard. "Other kids have moms who pack their lunches and kiss their scrapes. I used to hide in the bathroom during Mother's Day crafts."

His next words shattered her. "Sometimes I pretend you're my mom. That we bake cookies on weekends and you help me with homework. That when I have nightmares, you sing me back to sleep like in movies." His small fingers plucked at her sleeve. "You wouldn't believe how many kids complain about their moms. They don't know..."

Amy's vision blurred. Here was a child aching for the very love her own son rejected. The cruel irony lodged in her throat like glass.

Gathering Oliver close, she pressed a kiss to his tousled hair. "I'll be there, sweetheart. Always."

Oliver pulled back, eyes shining. "And I'll be your champion!"

Amy laughed through unshed tears. "Then let's show them what we're made of, hmm?"

His answering grin could've powered the sun.

...

At Royal Oaks Academy, Liam was strategizing.

The moment the family talent competition was announced, he'd thought of Victoria. Her violin skills were legendary—he'd seen her perform at the Windsor Jewelers gala last winter. The way her white gown had shimmered under the chandeliers, bow dancing across the strings... She'd looked like something out of a fairy tale.

With Victoria as his partner, victory was guaranteed.

Yet lately, something felt... off.

She visited him daily at the hospital, but her stays grew shorter each time. Always an excuse—a headache, a prior engagement, that mysterious music rehearsal she refused to discuss.

"Darling, I'm simply exhausted today," she'd say, already reaching for her coat. "Tomorrow, I promise."

But tomorrow never came.