Victoria wiped the tears from her eyes, her voice trembling. "Ms. Sinclair, I know you've never forgiven me for my past with Alexander. But that was years ago."

"Everyone has a past," she whispered, her fingers curling into fists. "Is forgiveness really impossible? Or do I have to die for you to finally let it go?"

Amy lifted her gaze, a smirk playing on her lips. "If that's what it takes, then by all means."

Alexander's expression darkened. "Amy!"

She laughed, tilting her head. "Alexander, don't look so serious. Ms. Langley was the one suggesting death, not me. If she wants to be dramatic, is that my fault?"

Victoria's breath hitched, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks. Without warning, she shoved herself out of her wheelchair and bolted toward the window.

"Since Ms. Sinclair wants me gone, I'll make it easy for her!" she cried.

"Victoria, stop!" Nathan shouted, lunging forward.

But Alexander was faster, his grip ironclad around her arm. "Victoria, what the hell are you doing?"

She thrashed against him, hysterical. "She hates me! If she wants me dead, then let me die! Let go of me!"

His jaw tightened. "Get a hold of yourself."

But Victoria was beyond reason, her voice raw. "I never should have come back! I should have stayed away forever!"

The room erupted into chaos—shouting, pleading, the sound of struggle. And then, cutting through it all, Amy's icy laughter.

"If Mr. Blackwood and Mr. Prescott don’t want you dead," she mused, her tone dripping with mockery, "why don’t you just crawl back into the dirt where you belong?" She tilted her head, eyes gleaming. "Unless, of course, you'd rather take my first suggestion?"

Nathan's face twisted in fury. "Amy, that's enough!"

She shrugged, feigning innocence. "First, she wants to die when I tell her to. Now, she won’t when I change my mind. Make up your mind, Ms. Langley."

A slow, cruel smile curved her lips. "Unless... you were hoping she’d go through with it?"

"You—!" Nathan choked on his rage, fists clenched.

Alexander's voice was sharp. "Amy. Stop."

Her laughter died, replaced by something colder. "No. You stop."

Her gaze locked onto his, unflinching. "I haven’t even begun holding you accountable. And yet, here you all are, turning my hospital room into a circus." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "Ever heard the saying? The ones who start the mess are the ones who deserve the worst of it."

She leaned in. "I didn’t push her. But if I had? She’d have deserved every second of it."

Before Alexander could respond, the door swung open.

"What’s going on here?" A deep voice cut through the tension.

Sebastian paused, taking in the scene—Victoria’s tear-streaked face, Nathan’s fury, Alexander’s stormy expression. His polite smile didn’t reach his eyes.

"My apologies," he said smoothly. "The doctor insisted Celeste needs rest. If you have something to discuss, take it elsewhere."