"What's with all the commotion?" Alexander's deep, icy voice cut through the chaos as his gaze landed on Victoria's scalded hand.

Without hesitation, Alexander stepped forward, roughly pushing Amy aside.

"Victoria, are you hurt?"

Amy stumbled, her body weak from exhaustion and hunger. The force of Alexander's shove sent her crashing into the edge of the table, pain shooting through her bruised ribs.

Victoria's skin was already blistering from the burn.

This time, she didn’t need to fake it—the pain was real, and so were the tears in her eyes.

"Alex, I don’t know what I did to upset Ms. Sinclair, but she just poured the oatmeal all over me..."

Only then did Alexander notice Amy, pale and shaken from the impact.

After a sleepless night, she looked utterly drained.

For a fleeting second, surprise flickered across Alexander’s face before his expression hardened.

"Amy, what the hell is wrong with you?"

The pain in Amy’s side was dizzying, leaving her speechless.

Victoria sobbed dramatically. "Maybe Ms. Sinclair is still angry about yesterday... I’m sorry, it’s all my fault. I nearly got Liam hurt... I thought she’d be careful about his allergies. I guess I was wrong."

With that, Victoria moved as if to kneel before Amy. "Ms. Sinclair, if you need to take it out on me, go ahead. I’ll accept whatever punishment you give."

Alexander caught her arm, his voice sharp. "Victoria, stop this nonsense!"

Liam chimed in, "Victoria, it’s not your fault. We didn’t know the cake had nuts."

He quickly added, "We ordered from the same menu as Mom. It’s not like Victoria picked it on purpose! If Mom hadn’t chosen the nut cake, I wouldn’t have had a reaction!"

As the pain from the collision dulled, Amy heard Liam’s words.

Her already frozen heart cracked a little more.

She stared blankly at her son—the one she’d stayed up all night worrying over.

Liam’s eyes were fixed on Victoria, full of concern.

Then she looked at Alexander.

His attention was entirely on Victoria, lips pressed into a thin line, expression unreadable.

Not one of them asked if she was okay.

Not one of them cared.

A hollow laugh escaped her, tears blurring her vision.

Pathetic.

The word echoed in her mind, sharp and mocking.

She closed her eyes briefly, then opened them again, her gaze clear despite the unshed tears.

Without a word, she turned toward the door, her face an emotionless mask.

A hand caught her wrist. Alexander’s voice came from behind her.

"Amy, where do you think you’re going? Victoria didn’t mean what happened yesterday. Do you really have to take it out on her like this?"

"Let go." Her voice was colder than ice.

Alexander tightened his grip. "You can’t blame Victoria entirely for yesterday. She didn’t know what was on your table."

Liam jumped in, defending Victoria. "If anyone’s to blame, Mom, it’s you for ordering the nut cake when you know I’m allergic!"

Amy froze, then slowly turned to face Liam.

"So, my son’s allergic reaction was my fault?"

Liam hesitated, avoiding her gaze. "Well... it’s not Victoria’s fault, at least."

Amy turned to Alexander. "Is that what you think too?"