Victoria's face was the picture of remorse as she whispered, "I'm so terribly sorry. I swear I'll be more cautious—this will never happen again."

The medical team, satisfied with her contrite admission, didn't press further.

Watching the scene unfold, Amy couldn't help but marvel at Victoria's performance. The woman was a virtuoso of manipulation—one trembling lip, one shimmering tear, and suddenly she was the wounded saint. She bent like a willow in a storm: the moment criticism arose, she'd bow her head in flawless penitence. No pride, no resistance. Even when others cringed at her theatrics, Victoria could still summon that practiced smile and glide forward as if nothing had occurred.

This was exactly how Victoria had Alexander and his son, Liam, wrapped around her finger.

The ambulance soon arrived at the hospital, and Liam was wheeled into the emergency room. Amy sat with Oliver in the hushed hallway, waiting in silence.

Victoria stood outside the operating doors, fingers interlaced, eyes glistening with unshed tears as she murmured, "Please, God, keep Liam safe. I'll do anything..."

Seeing her distress, Alexander moved to comfort her. "Victoria, it was an accident. You didn't intend for this to happen."

She dabbed at her cheeks with a delicate handkerchief. "If anything happens to Liam, how could I ever forgive myself?"

Amy observed them with icy detachment, her stomach churning with disgust.

Then Oliver's innocent voice cut through the tension. "Amy, didn't the doctor say Liam would be fine? Why is that lady crying like someone died?"

Amy softened her tone. "I don't know, sweetheart. Maybe you should ask her."

Nodding, Oliver trotted over and tugged gently on Victoria's sleeve. "Ms. Langley, why are you crying so much?"

Victoria's smile stiffened almost imperceptibly. This meddlesome child kept disrupting her carefully crafted moment, but with Alexander watching, she had no choice but to play the angel. She crouched to his level, voice dripping with honeyed concern. "Darling, I just care so much about Liam. That's all."

"But Liam's going to be okay, right? If you cry like that, people might think something really bad happened."

Victoria swiftly covered Oliver's mouth. "Oh, sweetheart, we mustn't say such things."

She tried to steer him aside, but suddenly Oliver stumbled and fell to the floor, looking up at her with wounded eyes.

Victoria froze. "I—I didn't push you..."

Amy rushed forward, helping Oliver up. "Are you hurt?"

"I'm okay," Oliver mumbled, his lower lip trembling. "I'm sorry... I must have upset Ms. Langley."

Amy's gaze dropped to the scabbed scrape on Oliver's arm—the one he'd gotten earlier when Victoria had shoved him aside as he tried to help Liam.

Her expression hardened. She locked eyes with Victoria, voice steel. "Apologize."

Before Victoria could speak, Oliver interjected, "Amy, it was my fault. I tripped. Ms. Langley didn't do anything."

Amy didn't relent. "Oliver, stop protecting her. I saw it clearly—she pushed you." Her stare never wavered from Victoria. "Just like she pushed you earlier to stop you from helping Liam."