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.

intact; I

injuries-some cuts from the broken glass, which

a slight urge to vomit, likely

staggered, taking slow, unsteady steps through the water, heading toward

Whitney, you must survive.

the dim light outside to

any obvious injuries, except for some cuts on the back of her hand from

they were

worst, the current situation was the best

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

"Chloe..."

breathed a sigh of relief as I heard her faint

Does your heart

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

a heart transplant. The heart had a strong rejection reaction after surgery, but since she started using my heart, the compatibility between her body and the heart had gradually improved over the past six months, with no rejection symptoms at all. In fact, her health had gotten

did before I

have you been here

many years with Taylor,

expression suddenly changing in the next moment. "Mom and

already suspected this. The enemy had gone to such great lengths to

had already died once, and Whitney had

though Josh and some of the sons were not very capable, they had lived a comfortable life under Grandma's protection for

life of ease and privilege, as if it

them was undoubtedly deeper than the

while they hadn't harmed Whitney and me yet, it wasn't just because of our family

still part of the Carlyns

the focal point of

In contrast

you Whitney's

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

body?

I'm fine, but Mom and Dad... They're

dark corner came a deep, male voice, its

"Shouldn't they die?"

devoid of any emotion-neither

turned to look and only then

and I couldn't tell how long he had been standing there. He