"Margaret, I'm not your emotional punching bag. Today, out of respect for your age, I let Alexander take those two slaps for you. But if you ever lay a hand on me again, I'll return it tenfold."

Margaret's lips trembled with fury. "You insolent girl! Do you honestly believe you can strike me?"

Amy's eyes turned to ice. "Test me. Just one more time."

The shock in Margaret's expression was unmistakable. Amy wasn't bluffing.

The air in the room crackled with tension, thick enough to choke on.

Alexander's voice cut through like a blade. "Amy. That's enough."

She turned slowly, her smile sharp as a knife. "Oh, how noble of you to speak now."

Victoria couldn't stay silent any longer. "Ms. Sinclair, regardless of anything, Margaret is your elder. You should show some respect."

Amy shot her a withering glare. "If you enjoy being treated like a doormat, why don't you slap yourself a few times for good measure?"

Victoria clamped her mouth shut, wisely choosing not to provoke her further.

At that moment, the operating room doors swung open, and a doctor stepped out. "Family of the patient?"

Margaret rushed forward. "That's me. How is my grandson?"

"The stomach pump was successful. He'll recover," the doctor said, though his tone carried a note of disapproval. "His stomach is sensitive—there are many foods he shouldn't consume. You need to monitor his diet more carefully."

"And how did no one know he was allergic to nuts?"

Margaret's gaze flickered toward Amy, but she bit back her words, remembering the warning she'd just received.

The next morning, Liam stirred awake to find Amy slumped beside his bed.

She had fallen asleep with her head resting near his hand, the dark circles under her eyes betraying a sleepless night.

Did his mother actually care about him?

A strange warmth spread through Liam’s chest—something bittersweet and fragile, like rediscovering a treasure he thought was lost forever. He had always been sickly as a child, and his mother used to stay by his side just like this.

He used to think her love was as constant as the air he breathed—until she vanished, and suddenly, he was suffocating. He didn’t understand why it hurt so much, but he knew he hated the feeling.

Sensing movement, Amy slowly opened her eyes.

When she saw Liam awake, relief flooded her expression. "Liam! You're awake!"

"Yeah," he croaked, his throat dry. "Water… please."

Amy immediately poured him a glass, carefully helping him drink.

Once he finished, Liam glanced around the room, noticing the absence of two key figures.

"Mom… where’s Dad? And Victoria?"

Amy’s smile faded.

She met his gaze and asked quietly, "Liam, tell me the truth. Why did you eat something you knew you were allergic to? And where is your emergency spray?"