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.

I hadn't

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

felt a slight urge to vomit, likely from a

steps through the water,

Whitney, you must survive.

got closer, I used the dim

some cuts

were just

situation was the best possible outcome in the

her face and hoarsely whispered, "Whitney, are

"Chloe..."

a sigh of relief as I heard her faint

you? Does

fine. You've been protecting me all

my heart, the compatibility between her body and the heart had gradually improved over the past six months, with

thing I did before I died at least I

you

years with Taylor, knowing the Carlyns better

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

this. The enemy had gone to such great lengths to gather all of the Sanders together through Taylor, clearly intending

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

of the sons were not very capable, they

a life of ease and privilege, as if

was undoubtedly deeper than the one they held for Whitney

harmed Whitney and me yet, it wasn't just because of

part of the Carlyns

members had become the focal point of all their

In contrast

Whitney's

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

your body?

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

dark corner came a deep, male voice, its

"Shouldn't they die?"

voice was soft, devoid of any

then saw

couldn't tell how long he had been standing there. He had no