"Wish you were dead?" Amy arched a perfectly sculpted brow at Liam's words, her voice laced with icy amusement. "Who fed you that little fantasy? Was it Victoria?"

Alexander's jaw tightened, his voice a low, warning rumble. "Amy, you can't pin every accusation on Victoria."

With a slow, deliberate sip of her wine, Amy smirked. "Oh, Alex. Your knee-jerk defense of Victoria could win gold at the Olympics. Do you rehearse those lines in the mirror?"

"Amy, that's enough!"

"Enough?" Her laugh was sharp as shattered glass. "I have every right to question this. When Liam had his allergic reaction, only a handful of us were present. So tell me—why would he suddenly claim Oliver and I wanted him dead?"

Her gaze flicked to Alexander, razor-sharp. "Did you tell Liam that not only did we fail to help him, but we actively wished for his demise?"

Alexander's stormy eyes darkened as he turned to Liam. "Liam. Where did you hear this?"

Victoria's breath hitched. She had specifically told Liam not to mention her involvement. And yet—

Children. Utterly unreliable.

This could ruin everything. Alexander had already been distant since the last time she'd been caught in a lie. If he discovered she'd been whispering poison in Liam's ear again, he might finally sever ties for good.

"I figured it out myself!" Liam blurted, his small fists clenched, face flushed with defiance. "I wasn't completely unconscious. I heard things!"

Victoria exhaled silently. Thank God.

Liam's voice trembled with barely contained fury. "Stop avoiding the question! Just tell me—is it true or not?"

Amy didn't just see the shift—she felt it. The flicker of guilt in Victoria's eyes. The way her shoulders sagged a fraction too soon with relief. Amy's lips curled. So. Victoria was behind this after all.

"That's a lie!" Oliver stepped forward, his young voice firm. "Amy used the inhaler to save you! Everyone saw it!"

"Liar!" Liam shot back. "That inhaler was useless! I threw it away! A real doctor should've saved me!"

Amy studied Liam's venomous glare, and something inside her froze over. Not disappointment—just a hollow, icy resignation. This child was beyond saving.

Sometimes, the only way forward was to walk away.

She turned to Alexander, her voice glacial. "Alexander, Oliver saved your son's life. And this is how Liam repays him? Don't you think you should correct that?"

Alexander's voice was a dangerous growl. "Liam was in shock. Confusion is understandable."

Amy's stare could have frozen hell. "Confusion then? Fine. But he's been out of the hospital for weeks, and he's still clinging to this delusion. Tell me, Mr. Blackwood—does that seem normal to you?"

Alexander's gaze shifted from Amy to Liam. The sheer hatred burning in Liam's eyes made his chest tighten. That wasn't how a child should look at his mother.

Despite Amy's recent distance, there was no denying it—without her quick thinking that day, Liam might not have survived.

Liam glared at Amy one last time. Unfazed, Amy met his gaze with the indifference of a stranger. But when her eyes dropped to Oliver, something in her expression softened—just a fraction.