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.

were intact; I

cuts from the broken glass, which explained

I felt a slight urge to vomit, likely

steps through

Whitney, you must survive.

I used the dim light outside to examine Whitney

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

were just small

their worst, the current situation was the

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

"Chloe..."

sigh of relief as I heard

you? Does your

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

heart transplant. The heart had a strong rejection reaction after surgery, but since she started using my heart, the compatibility between her

thing I did before I died at least I

you been here

Taylor, knowing the

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

her saying it, I had already suspected this. The enemy had gone to such great lengths to gather all of the Sanders together through Taylor, clearly

was that I had already died once, and Whitney had suffered

the Sanders were different. Even though Josh and some of the sons were not

privilege, as if it were their natural

was undoubtedly deeper than the one they held for Whitney and

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

of the Carlyns and might care about

Sander family members had become the focal point of

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 to me

"How's your body? Can

and Dad...

a dark corner came a deep, male voice, its

"Shouldn't they die?"

voice was soft, devoid of

look and only then saw the man

tell how long he had been standing there. He had