Rebirth: A Second chance at life-Chapter 134

Hearing that, The girl’s eyes fluttered open at his voice.

For a moment, she stared at him blankly.

Then, without warning, her face twisted, and tears began to roll down her cheeks.

She started to cry uncontrollably, her small shoulders shaking. 𝐟𝗿𝐞𝚎𝚠𝐞𝚋𝕟𝐨𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝕔𝕠𝚖

Knight tried to calm her, but she trembled harder, covering her face with her hands and refusing to say a single word.

Whatever memory his question had stirred—it was something too painful for her to speak.

Hunter walked over and crouched beside them, glancing at Knight with a teasing glare. "Huh, Knight! You should be more careful—you made the girl cry."

Knight clicked his tongue and looked away, annoyed but not denying it.

Hunter turned gently toward the girl.

"Hey, hey... you don’t have to tell us anything you don’t want to, okay?

Don’t cry.

He may look scary," he jerked his thumb at Knight, "but he’s not a bad guy."

The girl sniffled, pulling her knees tightly to her chest and burying her face between them.

Her small shoulders trembled violently.

One of the women they rescued noticed her shaking and hurried over.

She knelt beside the girl and wrapped her arms around her. "Shhh... it’s alright," she whispered softly.

"You don’t need to worry anymore. No one is going to hurt you now.

We’re all here with you."

Slowly, after what felt like forever, the girl’s sobs quieted.

She lifted her head hesitantly.

Her crimson eyes were swollen and shiny with tears as she looked at Hunter, then at Knight.

"I... I have no home," she whispered, her voice barely there.

Hunter nodded gently. "Okay. Then can you tell us your name?"

"T...T... Tool," she stammered, trembling.

"They... they used to call me that."

She paused, then rushed out in a broken voice,

"I can do anything. I know how to cook, clean... please don’t send me back to them. Please."

"Tool..."

The word hung in the air like something rotten. Hunter, Knight, and a few others froze, their expressions twisting between discomfort and disbelief. No one could even pretend that was a real name.

Hunter, trying to lighten the crushing mood, cleared his throat and forced an awkward grin. "It... is... a good name?" he muttered, half-joking, half-desperate to calm her.

But instead of easing her, the girl recoiled. She trembled violently, hugging her knees tighter. Sweat trickled down her forehead, her breaths sharp and panicked.

Hunter’s smile vanished. Knight’s brows drew together sharply. The others exchanged confused, worried looks.

The girl shook her head, voice breaking like glass. "Please... please don’t send me to them... I don’t want to be a Tool anymore..."

Her sobs came hard and loud, the kind that came from fear so old and deep it had carved itself into her bones.

Hunter panicked and leaned forward immediately.

"Hey—hey, relax. No one’s sending you anywhere," he said quickly.

"And no one is calling you that again.

Breathe.

You’re safe now. Just rest."

Knight handed him a cloth, and together they soothed her until her trembling eased.

They gave her a small dose of medicine, tucked her under a blanket, and waited until her breathing steadied into an exhausted sleep.

Only then did they step out of the cabin, closing the door softly behind them.

Up on the deck, the sea wind whipped at their clothes.

But the cold didn’t compare to the heaviness sitting like a stone in both their chests.

They had seen countless forms of cruelty over the years—broken people, stolen lives, dark secrets buried under bruises and scars.

But sometimes... sometimes a single word from a child could be more horrifying than any wound.

Knight exhaled slowly, almost a growl. "Who the hell names a child ’Tool’?"

There was no humor in his voice, only disgust and something sharper... something close to anger.

Hunter didn’t answer at first. He stared out at the black waves, jaw clenched.

The girl’s trembling, her terror, the way she begged not to be sent back—those reactions didn’t come from simple abuse.

They came from conditioning. From being treated as less than human.

They both felt it—understood it—at the same moment.

Recognition flashed in their eyes like lightning.

Together, they whispered the same thought:

"What did they make that child do?"

Silence fell over the deck again, heavier than before.

Hunter ran a hand through his hair and began pacing, agitation clear in every step.

"God forbid..." he muttered, voice tight. "If what I’m thinking is true..."

Knight didn’t ask what he meant. He didn’t need to. He had the same thought.

The sea wind blew cold across the deck, but the chill that settled in their bones came from something far worse.

On the other side, Aurora was going through the therapy she had been taking ever since she entered this body.

By now, almost all the toxins had been flushed out of her system.

She had lost a lot of weight compared to the first day, her face sharper, her eyes clearer.

With today’s session, the last traces of poison would leave her bloodstream.

The next stage was repair.

The toxins that had built up inside her for years had destroyed cells and even damaged a few organs.

Healing that would take time—she knew it, and so did the healer. But she was ready for it. She had endured worse.

After the acupuncture session ended, Aurora moved to the herbal bath prepared for her.

Steam curled around her as she sank into the warm water.

The mixture was stronger today, a new blend of rare herbs meant to accelerate her recovery.

She closed her eyes and let the heat sink deep into her bones.

Normally, she stayed for twenty minutes, but today, she didn’t want to get out.

She remained in the bath fifteen minutes longer than usual, her muscles relaxing, her breathing steadying.

For the first time since waking in this body, Aurora felt something unfamiliar—a sense of rejuvenation.

The ache in her limbs eased, the fog in her mind lifted, and even the dull pain in her chest softened.

It felt like she was finally reclaiming herself.

Aurora sat on the couch, fingers flying across the keyboard with practiced speed.

She needed to complete the search on every person the original Aurora had ever come into contact with.

Within minutes, the encrypted system pulled up detailed reports—far more thorough than anything she expected.

Names, faces, timelines, background checks... even people the original Aurora had interacted with for barely five minutes appeared on the screen.

Lily. Stephen. Veronica. James.

Everyone from Alexander’s home... including Grandpa Brown.

One by one, their files opened before her, each as detailed as a full investigation report.

Aurora skimmed through it all, her eyes narrowing as she pieced together the life of the girl whose body she now inhabited.

She started with Lily’s file first. As Aurora scrolled through the new information, her expression darkened.

The earlier research she’d done felt like nothing now—just the first page of a very cruel Chapter.

Aurora clenched her jaw. "I didn’t know you were this evil, Lily..." she muttered under her breath.

"And the one behind you... is even worse."

Crime records flashed on the screen—erased, rewritten, buried.

Lily’s tracks were wiped so clean that any normal data search would never catch her sins.

Aurora exhaled slowly, her fingers curling into a fist.

She hadn’t wanted to access the dark website she was using now.

One wrong move on this network was enough to alert crime organisations, hackers, and predators who monitored any suspicious activity.

If they noticed her ID coming alive again, it could drag unwanted enemies straight to her door.

Right now, she had no mood or strength for a war. But she had no choice. The truth lay here.

Her eyes blazed with fury as she read deeper.

Earlier, she had felt pity for Lily—a troubled girl, a victim of circumstances, someone easy to manipulate.

But now?

Now that she knew Lily was her baby sister... the sister she never had the chance to meet...

The pity shattered into raw, burning rage.

Aurora slowly closed the laptop, her fingers lingering for a moment on the lid as she steadied her breath.

She had a meeting today with the education council—several top officials would be there.

She needed to prove herself... and she needed to fight for her sister.

Straightening her posture, she walked downstairs.

Her expression was calm, but her eyes carried a quiet storm.

Bishop was already waiting for her near the exit, standing straight with his usual composed presence.

The moment he saw her, he opened the door without a word.

Aurora stepped out, and the two of them walked together toward the car.

They got in, the doors shutting with a soft click, and Bishop pulled out onto the road.