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

injuries-some cuts from the broken glass, which explained the

a slight urge to vomit, likely

unsteady steps through

Whitney, you must survive.

I got closer, I used the

obvious injuries, except for some cuts

were

things had reached their worst, the current situation was the best possible outcome in

face and hoarsely whispered, "Whitney, are

"Chloe..."

a sigh of relief as I heard her faint

you? Does your heart

I'm fine.

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

thing I did

you

spent many years with Taylor, knowing

changing in the next moment. "Mom and Dad!" Whitney grabbed my hand.

had gone to such great

was that I had already died once, and

though Josh and some of the sons were not

ease and privilege,

was undoubtedly deeper than the

yet, it wasn't just

the Carlyns and might care about

the focal point of

In contrast

Whitney's worry

can't empathize with you on this. As for the fate of the

"How's your body?

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

dark corner came a deep, male voice,

"Shouldn't they die?"

voice was soft, devoid of

turned to look and only then saw the man in the

how long he had been standing there. He had no presence, like