Rebirth Rules: No More Toxic BFF, No More Lottery IOUs

As soon as I came to my senses, my hand froze midair.

A second later, Beatrice Hopper smacked it away. A sharp sting shot across the back of my hand, jolting me awake.

That was when I realized I had been reborn. Somehow, I was now back at my wedding venue.

Beatrice, my best friend since childhood, shot me a vicious glare. Then, she casually slipped the lottery ticket—the one she was supposed to give me as a wedding gift—back into her own pocket.

As she did so, she checked it several times to make sure it wasn't bent or damaged.

"What are you doing, Bea?" I asked. "Weren't you giving that to me?"

Without warning, she exploded in a fit of fury. "Give it to you? Who said I'm giving it to you? This is mine. I bought it for myself! Who do you think you are to take something from me?"

I glanced at the string of numbers on the lottery ticket, and sure enough, they were identical to the ones she had given me in my previous life.

But what she didn't know was that this ticket wouldn't win anything.

The only reason I ended up with 50 million dollars in my past life was that I had bought another ticket for myself. The real winning ticket had never been hers to begin with.

The lively wedding hall fell silent after Beatrice's outburst.

Dozens of eyes turned toward the two of us. A few of our ex-classmates hurried over, trying to calm things down.

"Hey, what's going on with you two?"

"Why are you two fighting?"

Shirley Hill, who witnessed the whole thing earlier, couldn't resist saying, "Come on, Beatrice. It's Lucy's wedding today. Giving her a lottery ticket as a gift is cheap enough, and now you're trying to take it back? That's bold."

In an instant, fury lit Beatrice up like a match. She widened her eyes and shoved Shirley hard. "What do you know, huh? Bitch, what exactly do you know? That ticket is mine to begin with!"

Her crazed look scared the guests around us, and everyone stepped back in alarm.

It was then that I finally understood—Beatrice, too, had been reborn.

In our previous lives, she'd handed me the ticket, saying, "I bought a lottery ticket specifically for you. Keep it safe, okay?"

She stuffed the ticket into my hand, adding, "They say it's the thought that counts. This gift is precisely how I show that I care. Oh, and my due date is six months away. As my baby's future godmother, you should prepare a proper gift, got it?"

At first, I didn't even react. I honestly thought she was joking because we had known each other for more than two decades. Besides, when she got married, I had been busy running around for her.

From her wedding gown to her diamond ring, even the designer bag she carried, I bought them all for her. Back then, she had even promised me that she would be my bridesmaid when it was my turn, no matter how busy she was.

So, when my husband, Benedict Clark, and I set a date, I told her almost immediately. Surprisingly, I was turned down.

"I'm pregnant, so I can't be your bridesmaid," Beatrice said resolutely. "Being one is all hard work and dirty tasks. Do you really want to put a pregnant woman through all that?"

Frankly, I was hurt, but I also understood the situation. After all, a wedding would indeed be exhausting for a bridesmaid.

"Lucy Winslow, are you playing dead? Hey, I'm talking to you. Are you deaf or something?"

Beatrice's sharp voice pulled me back to the present. I clenched my fists without even realizing it, thinking of how I had died in my previous life because of her.

"Since Shirley was kind enough to lay it all out, I might as well be straight with you!" she shouted. "From today on, Lucy and I have nothing—absolutely nothing—to do with each other! We'll be no different than strangers."

She climbed onto a chair, leaning on someone else for support as she waved her arms dramatically in the air.

"Listen up, everyone! Anyone who reclaims the gift they gave Lucy will, in return, receive 5,000 dollars in cash from me!"

Everyone gawked at Beatrice like she had lost her mind, but she didn't mind. She pulled out her phone, called her husband, Rupert Payne, and had him withdraw all the money from their accounts.

After that, she turned to me with a smug grin on her face. "Oh, Lucy. Don't look at me like I did you dirty. Blame yourself for taking what didn't belong to you in the first place."