Alexander's expression turned grave. "Mr. Blackwood hasn't treated you right, and you've been miserable with him. I don't want you staying with him. You deserve better—someone who'll make you happy."

Amy couldn't help but laugh softly.

Even Oliver, who had only met Alexander a handful of times, could see how toxic their relationship was.

Samantha added, "Since you're busy tomorrow, should I let Benjamin know to postpone?"

"No need," Amy replied. "I just need a quick meeting with Alexander to finalize the divorce paperwork. It shouldn’t take more than thirty minutes. Could you tell Professor Whitmore I can make the afternoon rehearsal?"

"Of course," Samantha said, immediately typing out a message on her phone.

Oliver, ever curious, leaned forward. "Amy, where exactly are you and Mr. Carter performing?"

Amy thought back to Professor Whitmore's words. "I believe it's at a senior living facility or something similar."

Oliver's eyes sparkled with excitement. "Amy, I’d love to come with you. Do you think I could join?"

Amy hesitated. If it were her own event, she wouldn’t mind. But this was Professor Whitmore’s arrangement, and she didn’t have the authority to invite others.

Seeing her reluctance, Oliver pressed earnestly, "Amy, I’ve been practicing piano every single day. I promise I won’t hold you back."

"Well," Amy said gently, "I can’t decide that, but I’ll ask Professor Whitmore tomorrow and let you know, okay?"

Oliver beamed. "Okay!"

Performing with Amy was one of his greatest joys. It filled him with pride, and being around her felt as warm and safe as being with his mother.

He was growing more attached to her by the day.

Silently, Oliver made a vow to himself.

He would prove himself worthy of her.

One way or another, he would make her his.

The Next Morning

Amy woke early, anxious about being late.

After triple-checking her documents, she headed out.

Alexander was notoriously punctual—he never waited for anyone except Victoria. To avoid delays, Amy left with plenty of time to spare.

By 9:10 AM, she was already waiting outside the courthouse.

At exactly nine o'clock, Alexander grabbed his car keys—just as his phone rang.

"Alex, you need to come now! Victoria collapsed in the shower—she’s unconscious! They’re taking her to the hospital!"

Alexander’s face darkened. "How bad is it?"

"Really bad—she won’t wake up! Alex, I’m in the ambulance now. You have to get here!"

"I’m on my way," Alexander said coldly, already striding out the door.

By 10:05 AM, Amy checked her watch, frowning.

It was past ten. Where was Alexander?

Traffic? An emergency?

She decided to wait another ten minutes.

Fifteen minutes later, still no sign of him.

No call. No text.

If he was delayed, he could at least let her know.

Unless… something had happened.

Her stomach twisted. She dialed his number.

The line rang endlessly.

Then—finally—a man’s rough voice answered.