The moment Amy crossed the threshold into the living room, her breath hitched. Alexander was there, his presence unexpected.

Liam caught her gaze and immediately turned away with an exaggerated huff, his small face set in a stubborn pout. His silent declaration was clear: You hurt me. Apologize first.

Amy simply averted her eyes, refusing to indulge his theatrics.

SLAM!

Margaret’s palm struck the table with enough force to rattle the china. Her expression was thunderous. "Amy Sinclair, do you even comprehend the gravity of your actions?"

Amy’s brows knitted together, but she remained silent.

Once, she had idolized the Blackwood family, endured Margaret’s condescension, and even convinced herself she was unworthy of them. But now? The illusion had shattered. Margaret was just a woman—no more intimidating than anyone else.

Alexander’s voice cut through the tension, calm but edged with steel. "Mother, what’s this about?"

"Ask your beloved wife!" Margaret snapped, yanking up Liam’s sleeve to reveal a faint bruise. "She’s been letting other children torment her own son. What kind of mother does that? Alexander, mark my words—if she doesn’t earn Liam’s forgiveness, she won’t be welcome under this roof again!"

With his grandmother’s support, Liam lifted his chin, smugness radiating off him. His mother always caved when Margaret intervened. This time, he wouldn’t forgive her so easily. And she’d better apologize to Victoria too.

Alexander studied the bruise, his expression darkening. "Explain."

Charlotte, hovering nearby, spoke softly. "Brother, Liam says there’s a boy named Oliver at preschool who bullies him daily. These marks are from him. And..." She hesitated, darting a glance at Amy. "He says Amy doesn’t come home anymore. That she’s too busy taking care of other people’s children for money."

Margaret’s voice rose in outrage. "Are we not providing enough? You neglect your own child to chase pennies? Disgraceful!"

Normally, Amy would let the insults slide. Not today. "What’s disgraceful about earning my own living? When I stay home, you call me a parasite. When I work, you call me shameful. So tell me—what exactly am I supposed to do?"

Margaret recoiled, then bristled. "How dare you speak to me like that!"

Amy met her gaze evenly. "Margaret, disagreement isn’t disrespect."

"You’re arguing with me!"

Amy exhaled, biting back her retort. She was here for Samantha, not a pointless fight.

Alexander turned to Liam. "Is this true?"

Liam nodded fervently, his eyes wide with manufactured innocence, and thrust his phone forward. "See? Proof!"

After scanning the photos, Alexander’s gaze locked onto Amy. "Well?"

She stood motionless, her face unreadable.

Margaret’s patience snapped. "Amy, have you lost your tongue?!"

Amy’s lips curved into a humorless smile. "If speaking is just ‘arguing,’ then maybe silence is better."

Margaret trembled with fury. "You—!"