Amy had been noticing something unsettling—fresh cuts and bruises kept appearing on Oliver's arms and legs.

Every time she asked him about them, he'd shrug it off. Sometimes he claimed he'd tripped during recess. Other times, he said he'd bumped into furniture at home.

But the excuses didn't make sense to her.

One morning, after dropping Oliver off at preschool, Amy brought it up with Samantha over coffee.

Samantha's first thought was immediate. "You don't think he's getting bullied, do you?"

Amy shook her head. "Oliver's always been so gentle. His teachers adore him. I can't imagine him getting into fights."

"True," Samantha agreed. "He's not the aggressive type. Did you ask his teachers about it?"

"I did. They said they haven't seen anything unusual."

Samantha frowned. "That's odd. Maybe check him over tonight during bath time. See if there are any new marks."

Amy sighed. "He insists on washing himself now. Says he's a big boy."

The two of them sat in silence, puzzling over the mystery. Whatever was happening, Amy decided she would sit Oliver down for a serious talk that evening.

But that night, Oliver didn’t return to her place. Instead, he went home.

And then, for the next several days, he didn’t come back at all.

Normally, whenever Oliver stayed with his father, he’d call or ask to return after just one night. This sudden silence made Amy uneasy.

A dark thought crept into her mind—could Sebastian be the cause of Oliver’s injuries?

Her stomach twisted with worry. She couldn’t wait any longer. She picked up her phone and dialed Sebastian’s number.

He answered on the second ring, his deep voice smooth and calm.

"Celeste?"

Amy hesitated for a moment. "Mr. Kingsley, you haven’t been traveling for work lately, have you?"

"No, I’ve been staying at The Grand Solmaris," Sebastian replied, a hint of amusement in his tone. "Why? Do you need something?"

"It’s not urgent," Amy said quickly. "I just wanted to ask about Oliver. How has he been?"

"Oliver?" Sebastian sounded surprised. "I thought he was still with you."

Amy’s breath hitched. "He hasn’t been here for days. You didn’t know?"

"He’s home?" Sebastian clearly hadn’t been aware. "I’ve been in back-to-back meetings, so I’ve been staying at the hotel. He never told me he left your place. I assumed he was still with you."

Amy’s worry deepened. She had assumed Oliver went home because Sebastian was there. Now, hearing this, her pulse quickened.

"He hasn’t been here in nearly a week. I thought he was with you."

Sebastian’s tone turned serious. "Don’t panic. Let me call the house and check."

"Alright."

A few minutes later, Sebastian called back.

"Oliver’s been coming home every day, right on schedule," he reported. "He hasn’t been anywhere else. There’s nothing to worry about."

Amy exhaled in relief.

After a pause, she voiced her concerns about Oliver’s recent injuries.

Sebastian was quiet for a moment before chuckling softly. "I’ll go home tonight and have a talk with that little troublemaker. Don’t worry about him—he’s tougher than he looks."

"I just don’t want him to be getting hurt," Amy admitted.

After months of knowing Sebastian and his son, she understood his parenting style.

He believed in giving Oliver independence, rarely stepping in to resolve his conflicts.

Sebastian had said more than once that children needed to learn to handle their own battles. When adults interfered, things only got messier.

Oliver was five now, just beginning to understand the world. If he ran to his parents every time something went wrong, he’d grow up expecting others to solve his problems for him.