Rebirth: A Second chance at life-Chapter 84: A coward..

Alexander leaned back slightly in his chair, impatience flickering across his otherwise calm face.

His dark eyes bore into Veronica as he asked sharply, "Are you sure she didn’t have any contacts outside?

Are you Smiths trying to play me, Veronica?"

His tone had turned cold, murderous even, and it sent a chill down Veronica’s spine.

The shift in the atmosphere was palpable.

Alexander’s mind was racing. He suspected that the Smith family had been portraying a false image of Aurora, painting her in a deliberately poor light, perhaps hiding something — something important.

Veronica felt the unspoken threat beneath Alexander’s words. One wrong answer and she knew the consequences wouldn’t be mild.

For a moment, she faltered, her throat dry, but quickly composed herself, lowering her gaze in a show of humility.

"How could we ever do that to you, Mr. Brown?" she said, voice soft, almost hurt. "Why would we hide anything from you?"

She lifted her eyes slowly, wearing the perfect mask of innocence, and began weaving a carefully crafted story, every word soaked in twisted truth and half-fabricated pain.

"You may not know this, but Aurora isn’t truly related to us by blood," Veronica said, her voice trembling slightly for effect. "Though she is my sister... she’s only my half-sister."

Alexander’s expression remained unreadable, but he continued to stare at her, listening.

"My mother... she was married once before," Veronica continued, dropping her gaze again, as if recalling painful memories.

"Her first husband... he was an alcoholic. Things between them went downhill quickly, and they eventually divorced.

My mother lived alone for many years, raising Aurora by herself."

She paused, her hands twisting slightly in her lap, pretending to gather her emotions.

"Later, my father — who had loved my mother since their college days — pursued her relentlessly for years. He loved her so deeply that eventually she agreed to marry him.

And that’s when I was born," she said, smiling faintly as if remembering better times. "But my mother... she was too kind-hearted to abandon Aurora, despite the difficulties.

She brought her along into her new life with my father."

Veronica wiped at a tear she had coaxed to her eyes.

"My father loved my mother so much that he formally adopted Aurora as his own. But... Aurora was never content.

She was jealous. She hated me for being the new baby. Once... once she even threw me out of my crib."

Her voice cracked, and she allowed herself a tiny, heartbroken sob.

"There were scars on my body when I was an infant," she whispered.

"It wasn’t until my grandmother demanded to check the security footage that the truth came out. Aurora... she bullied me whenever no one was around."

Veronica lowered her head, casting herself perfectly in the role of the wounded younger sister.

"My grandmother was furious. She demanded Aurora be sent to an orphanage immediately.

But my mother... she cried and begged for mercy for her daughter. In the end, they compromised — Aurora was sent to my maternal grandmother’s house in the countryside to reflect on her behavior."

She shook her head slowly.

"She stayed there for years, away from us. It was... better that way."

Veronica gave a sad, resigned smile.

"But after my grandmother passed away, my parents brought her back home. And the rest, well... you know."

Every word she spoke was coated with manipulation — tiny facts twisted just enough to serve her narrative, to make Aurora look reckless, ungrateful, and dangerous.

Alexander listened, his expression dark and brooding. Although he had no interest in hearing Veronica’s sob story, he stayed silent — watching, analyzing, waiting — determined not to miss any hint of a hidden scheme.

The Aurora he had seen today didn’t match the version everyone described. The girl they knew was timid — unable to fight back, unable to meet anyone’s gaze, always clinging and whiny.

A coward.

But today, he had seen something else entirely. That contradiction unsettled him deeply.

This wasn’t just a misunderstanding — it was a carefully constructed illusion.

There was a larger scheme at play, and he was going to tear it apart, piece by piece.

"I hope," Alexander said slowly, "for your sake, that what you’re saying is the truth."

His voice was low and threatening. Veronica flinched despite herself.

Alexander narrowed his eyes. "So," he asked after a long pause, "what was she doing all those years in the countryside?"

Veronica stiffened inwardly, barely managing to hide the flash of anger that surged inside her.

Why? Why does he care so much about that bitch?! she thought bitterly.

Outwardly, she stammered slightly, feigning nervousness.

"I-I don’t know exactly," she said, shaking her head. "According to my mother... she was always troublesome.

The villagers said she used to torment my grandmother... She bullied everyone she could when no one was watching."

Her eyes turned red-rimmed, and she sniffled, as if the memory pained her deeply.

But suddenly, something clicked in Alexander’s mind.

Where was she... and what was she doing three years ago?

Across the table, Veronica felt a chill run down her spine. Dread coiled in her stomach.

She remembered. Three years ago, Alexander had been in a serious accident — one that should have taken his life.

But it hadn’t. Aurora had saved him.

Though he survived, the impact had been severe. He had suffered a head injury and remained in a coma for several months.

When he awoke, he couldn’t remember everything — parts of his childhood and early adulthood were gone, erased by trauma.

His memory only resumed clearly from around age seventeen to the present.

Veronica had seized that gap — and in it, had rewritten the truth. ƒrēewebnoѵёl.cσm

She had carefully painted herself as his savior, the one who had stayed by his side, the one who mattered.

And Alexander had believed it. He hadn’t even listened to his grandfather’s protests.

Now, under Alexander’s sharp stare, Veronica casually smirked, gathering her thoughts.

Composing herself, she feigned confusion, her brow furrowing as though she were trying to recall long-forgotten details.

"Three years ago?" she repeated, feigning thoughtfulness. "Hmm... she was still in 10th grade then, I think," she added dismissively, clearly trying to distance Aurora from any connection to the accident.

But then, as if recalling something important, she tilted her head slightly, her expression shifting.

"Wait... I do remember one thing," she said, her tone thoughtful. "There was a time she didn’t come home from school. She disappeared for a few days. My parents were frantic, searching everywhere for her."

She let out a small, carefully rehearsed sigh, as if pained by the memory.

"Eventually, they found her... in the slums. Mixed up with a bad crowd."

Hearing this, Alexander’s face darkened.

"But... it’s all in the past," she said, her voice softening as if she were offering forgiveness. "Aurora has learned her lessons now.

She’s suffered enough. Mr. Brown..."

She reached out slightly, hands trembling. "Please... help her. Save her."

Her voice cracked with emotion, the perfect performance of a concerned sister pleading for forgiveness on Aurora’s behalf.