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.

limbs were intact; I hadn't lost any arms or

injuries-some cuts from the broken glass,

was spinning, and I felt a slight urge to vomit,

slow, unsteady steps

Whitney, you must survive.

got closer, I used the dim light outside to examine

didn't have any obvious injuries, except for some cuts on the back

were just small

worst, the current situation

gently touched her face and hoarsely whispered, "Whitney,

"Chloe..."

relief as

are you? Does your heart

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

using my heart, the compatibility between her body and the heart had gradually

valuable thing I did before I died

have you been here

spent many years with Taylor,

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

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

and I hadn't died was that I had already died once,

not very capable, they had

lived a life of ease and privilege, as if it

undoubtedly deeper than the one they held for Whitney

wasn't just because of our family ties, like Taylor's deep love for

all, he was still part of the Carlyns

had become the focal point of

In contrast

Whitney's

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

your body? Can you

Mom and Dad... They're

a deep, male voice, its

"Shouldn't they die?"

of any emotion-neither joy,

then saw

black, and I couldn't tell how long he had been