This wasn't your average daycare center - this was the kind where three-year-olds arrived in private helicopters and their nannies carried designer diaper bags worth more than most people's monthly salaries. The waiting list could rival the guest list for a royal wedding, filled with surnames that commanded respect and whispered influence. These children were born into gilded cribs, accustomed to lives of extravagance and entitlement, often indulged beyond reason.

Among this privileged brood, Liam and Oliver stood apart with their impeccable behavior. Liam occasionally showed flashes of superiority, but Oliver remained remarkably humble and kind. The staff at Westwood Academy adored Oliver, their hearts melting when they discovered he'd never known his mother's love. Oliver was known for his gentle nature and sharp intellect, making the idea of him lying seem impossible.

The unspoken question hung in the air: if Oliver was defending someone so passionately, didn't that speak volumes about their character? Meanwhile, everyone knew how Alexander treated Liam's mother with icy detachment. Their rare exchanges dripped with disdain. Liam even referred to his own mother as "the help," as if she were merely staff rather than family.

The whispers spread like wildfire among the observing parents and teachers, their curious glances darting between Alexander and Victoria. Had some mistress driven Liam's mother away, poisoning the boy against his own parent? No wonder he treated his mother with such contempt.

Victoria bristled under the weight of their judgmental stares, her resentment toward Amy growing by the second. Oliver's words had struck a chord in Amy. She'd only cared for Oliver briefly, yet he'd become her fierce protector, while Liam - whom she'd raised for years - met her with open hostility.

Alexander's glare could have frozen molten lava. "Amy, didn't you hear Liam say this boy has been tormenting him? Sending him inappropriate photos?"

"I know my son," Alexander continued, his piercing gaze dissecting Oliver. "He doesn't dislike people without cause. Oliver isn't the angel he appears to be."

Amy's forehead creased in concern. She knew Liam intimately; she'd practically raised him single-handedly. His public outburst was completely out of character for the usually well-mannered boy.

Turning to Oliver, Amy softened her voice. "Oliver, sweetheart, can you tell me what really happened?"

Oliver's lower lip trembled. "I never sent Liam any bad pictures. Those were just posts from the academy's private network."

Amy looked puzzled. "Private network?"

One teacher quickly clarified, "It's our internal social platform for students. We use it to share announcements and activities. Each child has a profile where they can post updates to interact with classmates. It's completely secure - only accessible to enrolled families."

Ah, a miniature Instagram for the preschool set.

"Oliver, may I see your tablet?" Amy asked gently.

Oliver handed over his device without hesitation. Amy scrolled through his posts. True to his word, Oliver had been regularly updating his profile. Each post garnered enthusiastic comments from classmates - "That looks amazing!" or "Your mom is so cool!"

One comment caught her eye: "Did your mom really make that?"

Oliver had responded: "Yes! My mom made everything!"

In a small voice, Oliver explained, "All the other kids post about their moms' cooking. I...I didn't want them to know I didn't have a mom. So I shared those pictures." His eyes glistened with unshed tears.