Reborn I Exposed My Stepsister’s Lies

Laylani lowered her phone and looked up, pausing for a moment. Across the courtyard, through the sheets of rain, a white statue stood silent. Two familiar figures walked side by side, chatting and laughing with ease—Zechariah Boyd and Kayla Morgan.

He was tall and handsome, while she was all delicate and petite. They honestly looked like the picture-perfect couple. In the past, seeing them like that would've gutted Laylani.

But now? She just felt… nothing. She dropped her gaze with a soft scoff. *Yeah, they really did make a pair.*

From across the way, Kayla spotted Laylani tucked into the corner of the corridor, and her eyes lit up. She tugged on Zechariah's arm. "Zechariah, look—my sister's over there."

Zechariah followed her gaze. His eyes met Laylani's—calm, detached. He'd already decided he was gonna ignore her, so he looked away fast, his brow furrowing without a word.

Kayla's eyes shimmered as she pitched her voice a little louder. "My sister sees us."

"Let her," Zechariah said flatly, not even trying to pretend he cared.

Kayla bit her lip, glancing around with an 'oh, this is so awkward' kind of look, and let out a gentle sigh. They started walking slowly toward Laylani.

As they got closer, Kayla put on her best innocent face. "Zechariah, you don't actually believe what people are saying, do you? That I was the one who set up that whole fake accusation…"

She trailed off, her eyes going all misty with unshed tears.

Zechariah tore his gaze away from Laylani, saying quietly, "I don't."

The two of them walked right up to Laylani.

Zechariah kept staring straight ahead, but Kayla stopped. She turned to face Laylani, her expression dripping with fake concern. "Sister, you didn't bring an umbrella? Dad said Sam couldn't pick us up today. Maybe you should ride home with Zechariah?"

She clung to Zechariah's arm, looking up at him sweetly. "That okay with you, Zechariah?"

Zechariah said nothing, his face a mask of indifference. He told himself that if Laylani showed even a tiny sliver of humility, he might—*might*—grudgingly give her a ride. She was still his fiancée, after all.

The moment stretched tight with tension.

Kayla shot Laylani a smug little look, clearly expecting her to get all angry or embarrassed.

But Laylani just glanced at them, her expression unreadable, and let out a soft laugh. She didn't even move to accept.

That laugh hit Zechariah like a slap. His expression darkened. He pulled Kayla closer, snapping open a black umbrella to shield her—the gesture intimate, protective.

He knew Laylani. She was always so jealous, so small-minded.

He was trying to provoke her.

Under that umbrella, the two of them seemed lost in their own little world, slowly fading into the rain—leaving Laylani completely unaffected.

Up on the second-floor balcony, Elio Bradley leaned against the railing, sucking on a mint candy as he watched the whole scene play out. Raindrops fell in sheets around him, but his sharp eyes were locked onto Laylani's slender figure standing all alone, her hair soaked. She looked like a drenched stray cat—pathetic, abandoned.

Elio clicked his tongue in irritation, muttering to himself, "Idiot."

Why the hell did she ever waste her heart on someone as blind and clueless as Zechariah?

He spun on his heel and snatched an umbrella right out of his friend Riggs Myers's hand, leaving Riggs standing there, stunned.

"Hey! Elio, what the hell?" Riggs protested, completely floored. "That's my umbrella! You seriously gonna leave me to walk home soaked? Don't be such a jerk…"

Elio ignored him, gripping the umbrella as he bolted down the stairs.

Down in the corridor, Laylani was still messing with her phone when Elio stopped right in front of her, frowning.

"Hey. You got an umbrella?" he asked, his tone coming out way gruffer than he meant.

Laylani looked up, her hand instinctively going to her bag.

Elio hesitated, then added stiffly, "'Cause, I mean, if you need to borrow—"

Before he could finish, Laylani pulled a folding umbrella out of her bag and—*click*—snapped it open. A fresh, light green canopy bloomed above her.

And just like that, the air got super awkward.

Elio's ears turned bright red.

Laylani blinked up at him, all innocent. "Sorry… looks like I do have one."

Elio's expression soured as he clicked his tongue in frustration.

"Elio, get back here!" Riggs shouted, coming down the stairs. "That's not cool, dude. Give me my umbrella!"

Laylani looked totally confused.

Riggs caught up with them, and the awkwardness just hung there. Elio scowled and tossed the umbrella back to Riggs.

Riggs looked back and forth between Laylani and Elio, who was getting more and more grumpy by the second. He nudged Elio lightly. "Come on, man, you trying to catch a cold standing here?"

Elio turned to leave.

Laylani watched him walk away, and it suddenly hit her—had he really come all the way down just to offer her his umbrella?

"Elio," she called, stopping him in his tracks.

He paused, not turning around. "What?" His voice was still rough.

"Could you come somewhere with me?"

Elio turned, one eyebrow raised. "Since when are we that close?"

Laylani just blinked. "I thought we were."

Elio's Adam's apple bobbed. He looked away fast.

"You're delusional."

With that, he left with Riggs, vanishing into the rain.

Laylani scratched her head, bewildered. *Did I just get shot down?*

*Oh well…*

The rain kept coming down steady.

Huddled under her umbrella, Laylani left campus—but she didn't head straight home.

She got into a cab and gave the driver an address, and the car glided smoothly away.

What she didn't know was that a black sedan was parked near the campus gate, hidden by the rain.

Inside, Tate Morgan sat stiffly in the backseat, dressed sharp and radiating cold efficiency.

He'd watched Laylani climb into a cab heading in the exact opposite direction from home, and instantly his mind flashed to Kayla's complaints that morning about Laylani's behavior.

He immediately assumed she was up to something shady.

"Follow her," he ordered the driver.

"Yes, sir."

…

On the other side of town, in the old part of the city—a world away from the upscale neighborhoods—the streets were narrow and the buildings worn.

Rain washed over the tiny alleys, and the air was thick with the smell of dampness and rotting leaves.

Laylani made her way along the wet cobblestones, her pristine shoes splashing through puddles. It was a stark contrast to the grimy surroundings.

Following the address from the email, she navigated deeper into the rain-soaked streets until she spotted an old fruit stand, its plastic tarp flapping in the wind.

Rainwater dripped off the edges, forming muddy puddles on the ground.

A boy stood beside the stall.

Laylani stopped.