Even after Her Death by Rita Bond

I was terrified to wake up.

I was afraid that when I regained consciousness, I would once again become a spirit, watching my body being torn apart.

I also feared that I might not have any consciousness at all, unable to even take one last look at Carter, still not having had the chance to say goodbye.

Before regaining full awareness, searing pain overwhelmed me.

The moment I felt the pain, I was strangely relieved; if I could still feel pain, it meant I was alive, not just a wandering soul.

As long as I was alive, I still had a chance.

My head and body ached from the impacts, each part of me throbbing.

The images from before I lost consciousness resurfaced the sight of Zoey being discarded to the green belt, Harlan crawling toward her. She should be okay, right? What about Whitney? Was her heart okay?

I suddenly opened my eyes, and only then did I realize my current situation.

Whitney was not far from me, still unconscious.

I scanned the surroundings. We were locked in a water prison, but fortunately, the water level wasn't too high-just a shallow layer that hadn't even covered my feet. The ground was damp. The room was dark and musty, with only a small, square iron window.

Outside, it was pitch black; it had already turned night.

I listened carefully, hearing the sound of waves from afar.

I had a suspicion in my heart-was this the island that Yael once brought me to?

If the Carlyns were seeking revenge, they would definitely bring us to their burial ground.

Whitney's huge fish-tail wedding dress spread out on the ground, with diamonds scattered all over, glinting coldly in the darkness.

She was already slender and pale, resembling a stranded mermaid. Her entire form exuded a sense of fragility-beautiful, yet heartbreaking.

The dagger was scattered in the car.

I looked down and saw that the silver necklace around my neck was still there.

As long as the island didn't block signals, Carter would be able to detect my presence!

I propped myself up on the damp ground and struggled to stand up.

all my limbs were intact; I hadn't lost

superficial injuries-some cuts from the broken

slight urge

unsteady steps through the

Whitney, you must survive.

I got closer, I used the dim

for some cuts on the back of

were

situation was the

touched her face and hoarsely whispered, "Whitney, are you

"Chloe..."

breathed a sigh of relief as I

you? Does

her eyes. "Chloe, I'm fine. You've been

since she started using my heart, the compatibility between her body and the heart

most valuable thing I did before I died at least I protected my

you

years with Taylor, knowing the Carlyns better than

and Dad!" Whitney grabbed my hand. "Chloe, something's wrong. Mom and Dad are in

enemy had gone to such great lengths to

died was that I had already died once,

were not very capable, they had lived a comfortable life under Grandma's protection for half their

of ease and privilege, as if

deeper than the one they held for Whitney and

me yet, it wasn't just because of

still part of the Carlyns and might care

family members had become the focal point of all

In contrast

you Whitney's worry

the fate of the Sanders, what matters more to me is you." I tried

"How's your body?

and Dad... They're going to

dark corner came a deep, male voice, its age

"Shouldn't they die?"

devoid of any emotion-neither joy, anger, nor

to look and only then saw

how long he had been standing