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.

I

like only superficial injuries-some cuts from the broken glass,

slight urge to vomit, likely from a mild

steps through the water, heading

Whitney, you must survive.

I used the

except for some cuts on the back of her hand from

were

worst, the current situation was the best possible outcome

touched her face and hoarsely whispered, "Whitney,

"Chloe..."

of relief as I heard her faint

are you? Does your

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

had once undergone 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

was probably the most valuable thing I did before I died at least I protected

you been

with Taylor, knowing the Carlyns better

she said, her expression suddenly changing in the next moment. "Mom and Dad!" Whitney grabbed my hand. "Chloe, something's wrong. Mom and Dad are in

gone to such great lengths to

Whitney and I hadn't died was that I had already

and some of the sons were not

and privilege, as

toward them was undoubtedly deeper than the one they held for Whitney

and me yet, it wasn't just because

was still part of the Carlyns and

the focal point of all

In contrast

Whitney's worry

was starkly different. "Sorry, I can't empathize with you on this. As for the fate of the Sanders, what matters more

your body? Can

but Mom and

dark corner came a

"Shouldn't they die?"

soft, devoid of any emotion-neither joy, anger,

look and only then saw the man

I couldn't tell how long he had

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