Reborn with My Bestie

I gave a wry smile.

That saying I'd once heard on short videos in my past life was right—a man's words are nothing but lies.

In my past life, before stealing my admission letter, Robbie had been quite the actor.

I pretended to believe him, lowering my gaze with a shy, timid air as I followed him outside.

Rachel caught sight of my expression and nearly shook with suppressed laughter. She only behaved herself when Robbie turned back and ordered her into Ned's room.

For a while afterward, Rachel and I crafted excuses, claiming we had our periods to avoid being intimate.

Perhaps because they still intended to use us—or perhaps out of lingering guilt—Robbie and Ned played the role of attentive husbands.

When Scarlett came calling, the four of us were tending the vegetable patch together. Robbie was carefully tucking back the loose strands of my hair, while Ned, grinning, fanned the sweat from Rachel's brow.

The moment Scarlett saw this scene, the smile on her face froze.

Fortunately, both men quickly jumped to their feet and stepped away from us, and only then did her expression smooth back into place.

"Mary, Rachel," she said sweetly, "sorry to intrude. I have something to discuss with Robbie and Ned."

The words nearly made me laugh. What business did she have to discuss with two married men?

How had I never noticed her little tricks in my last life?

Rachel, too, looked puzzled, though neither of us said a word. We simply watched as both men, all but tripping over themselves, hurried after her.

Scarlett turned, gifting us with an apologetic smile.

"Mary, Rachel, I'll just borrow them for a little while. You don't mind, do you?"

She was waiting—hoping—to see disappointment or unwillingness on our faces.

Instead, we grinned foolishly.

What was there to mind? In our last lives, she had "borrowed" them often enough.

"Of course not," I said lightly. "Go ahead, use them as you please."

Her smile faltered, her expression stiffening like a fist that had landed in cotton. She glanced back and caught sight of the Stark brothers' faces, which had darkened for no apparent reason. Her heart gave a nervous jolt, and she hurried them into the house.

Meanwhile, Rachel and I stood in the courtyard, moving in perfect sync as we rubbed at our arms, gooseflesh prickling all over.

There was nothing to be done but endure the humiliation for now.

Still, Scarlett's sudden visit suited us just fine. Without even asking, we knew why she was here. The timing was right. She had come for the admission letter and for money.

Sure enough, after only a few minutes of hushed talk, she left in a rush—though not empty-handed. She carried away a tin of milk powder Robbie had insisted she take, and a red hairpin Ned had just picked out for Rachel.

The three of them lingered at the doorway, reluctant to part, until they turned and caught sight of me and Rachel watching with meaningful smiles.

Flustered, Robbie blurted out, "It's not what you think. Scarlett is Mom's goddaughter. Ned and I are just looking after our sister."

Both men looked uneasy, terrified we might make a scene. After all, they knew perfectly well—I loved milk powder, and Rachel had coveted that red hairpin for ages.

But we showed no reaction, only smiling as we answered, "If she's a god-sister, then of course you should look after her. We don't mind."

Watching the two men exhale in relief, Rachel and I exchanged a quiet glance.

The time was almost ripe.