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.

intact; I

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

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

slow, unsteady steps through the water,

Whitney, you must survive.

I got closer, I used the dim light

injuries, except for some cuts on the back of her

they were just small

reached their worst, the current situation

and hoarsely whispered,

"Chloe..."

of relief as I heard

you? Does your heart

I'm fine. You've been protecting me all

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

thing I did before I died at least I protected

you

Taylor, knowing the Carlyns better

"Mom and Dad!" Whitney grabbed my

enemy had gone to such great lengths to gather all of the Sanders

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

were different. Even though Josh and some of the sons were not very capable, they had

lived a life of ease and privilege, as if

toward them was undoubtedly deeper than

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

he was still part of the Carlyns and might care about his

members had become the focal point of all their

In contrast

Whitney's worry

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

your body? Can

Mom and Dad... They're going to

a

"Shouldn't they die?"

soft, devoid of any emotion-neither joy,

only then

all black, and I couldn't tell how long he had been standing there. He