Amy Sinclair gave an indifferent shrug. "How should I know why she took a tumble down the stairs? The person you should be questioning is standing right there." She gestured toward Victoria with a flick of her wrist.

Alexander Blackwood's piercing gaze never wavered from Amy's face. His expression remained perfectly composed, but the temperature in the room seemed to drop several degrees with each passing moment.

He wasn't fooled for a second. People didn't just accidentally fall down entire flights of stairs.

Nathan Prescott's face twisted with barely contained rage. But Amy stood her ground, meeting Alexander's stare without flinching. Her clear eyes showed no trace of deception or guilt.

Victoria Langley attempted to intervene. "Alex, darling, perhaps we should—"

"We're not letting this go," Nathan snapped, cutting her off mid-sentence. "This scheming witch needs to be held accountable before she hurts someone else!"

Amy crossed her arms, her voice laced with sarcasm. "Ms. Langley, would you care to enlighten everyone about your little accident?"

Victoria's eyes darted nervously between the faces in the room, her hesitation palpable.

Amy took in Victoria's carefully constructed facade of innocence. "Since I'm clearly not part of this little performance, I'll be on my way."

Nathan moved to block the doorway. "You're not leaving until Victoria gets justice!"

A humorless laugh escaped Amy's lips. "I've already told you I didn't lay a finger on her, and Ms. Langley here hasn't accused me either. Yet somehow everyone's convinced it's my fault."

Nathan faltered, realizing how much Amy had changed. Her sharp wit left him scrambling for a response.

He turned desperately to Victoria. "Tell them, Victoria. Did Amy push you or not?"

Amy was right. Without Victoria's direct accusation, all their claims were meaningless. She was the only one who knew what really happened.

Victoria silently cursed Nathan's incompetence. The longer she hesitated, the more suspicious it looked.

Just as she drew breath to speak, the hospital room door swung open again. Two figures entered—one tall and imposing, the other small and delicate.

"Amy! Are you alright?" Sebastian Kingsley rushed forward, pulling Amy into a protective embrace.

Amy returned the hug, guilt twisting in her chest. "I'm so sorry, Oliver. I promised to take better care of you."

Despite his young age, Oliver Kingsley showed remarkable understanding. "You have been taking good care of me, Amy..."

Before he could finish, an enraged voice cut through the room. "Get away from my mother!"

Oliver looked up to see Liam Blackwood glaring daggers at him.

"Liam?" Oliver's eyes widened in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

Ignoring the question, Liam charged forward and shoved Oliver violently away from Amy. "Don't touch her! She's my mom!"

Caught off balance, Oliver stumbled and fell hard on the polished floor.

Amy's expression darkened as she immediately knelt to help Oliver up. "Are you hurt, sweetheart?"

Tears welled in Oliver's eyes as he cradled his arm. "It stings."

Amy's heart clenched when she saw the angry red scrape on his forearm. "Let me get something for that—"

Liam's furious scream interrupted her. "Mom! Why are you being nice to him? Why did you let him hug you?!" His voice cracked with betrayal and jealousy.