There they were - that little troublemaker and his father.

And... her.

Amy Sinclair was holding Oliver Kingsley's small hand, occasionally bending down to whisper something in his ear. Her smile was radiant, filled with warmth I hadn't seen in years.

So unlike the cold, detached expression she always wore around me.

Liam Blackwood vaguely recalled a time when his mother used to look at him with that same tenderness.

When had her eyes grown so distant? So frosty?

Liam trailed silently behind the trio, watching as they enjoyed every attraction - the towering Ferris wheel, the spinning carousel, even the stomach-dropping pirate ship.

They stopped at a carnival game booth next.

Oliver managed to pop three balloons with his dart throws, earning himself a plush teddy bear. The boy beamed like he'd just won the lottery.

He proudly presented his prize to Amy.

Her face lit up as she accepted it, ruffling Oliver's hair with such pride you'd think he'd just solved world hunger.

Liam rolled his eyes.

He could outshoot that kid blindfolded.

Yet seeing Amy's genuine delight sent an unexpected pang through his chest.

"Grandmother was right," he muttered under his breath. "Mother really is easily impressed. That cheap stuffed animal? I could win those in my sleep... Why is she making such a big deal out of it?"

"That brat can only win carnival toys, but I..." His voice trailed off as he remembered the exquisite crystal music box he'd won at last month's school fair.

The one he'd given to Victoria instead.

Victoria had simply smiled politely and said thank you - nothing like Amy's unrestrained joy over Oliver's silly teddy bear.

Turns out his mother's happiness could be bought so cheaply.

And he'd given his prize, even her birthday gift, to someone else.

The realization hit him like a physical blow.

He suddenly longed to see that bright smile directed at him.

Liam continued shadowing them unnoticed.

He observed how Sebastian Kingsley handled everything - buying drinks, carrying bags, fetching snacks - while Amy and Oliver lounged on a bench chatting animatedly.

But when they went out together, his mother was always the one running errands.

Every family outing left her exhausted, her smile nowhere to be found.

She'd even ruin the happiest moments with constant reminders - "Don't eat that," "You shouldn't touch this," "That's not good for you."

Yet when Amy cautioned Oliver about his health, the boy didn't scowl or complain.

"Okay, Amy!" Oliver chirped, his face still cheerful. "I'll be more careful next time!"

When she suggested he skip the cotton candy, his face fell briefly before nodding.

"Alright, maybe after I'm better... Amy, could you make your special apple pie tonight?"

Amy laughed, ruffling his hair again. "Of course, sweetheart. We'll bake it together when we get home."

"Yay! You're the best, Amy!"

Oliver's face shone with pure, unguarded happiness - so different from the sly, manipulative brat Liam had imagined.

What was so special about her baking anyway?

He'd had it so often he could barely stand the smell anymore.

Yet inexplicably, his mouth watered at the thought of one of her pastries.

A heavy weight settled in Liam's chest.

Just then, Sebastian returned, balancing three ice cream cones in his hands.