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

seemed like only superficial injuries-some cuts from

a slight urge to vomit,

slow, unsteady steps through

Whitney, you must survive.

closer, I used the dim

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

they were just small

things had reached their worst, the current situation was the best possible

gently touched her face and

"Chloe..."

breathed a sigh of relief as I

Does your

eyes. "Chloe, I'm fine. You've been

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

probably the most valuable thing I did before I died

have you been

years with Taylor,

her expression suddenly changing in the next moment. "Mom and Dad!" Whitney

had gone to such great lengths to gather all of the

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

the sons were not very capable, they had lived a comfortable life

lived a life of ease and privilege, as if it

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

yet, it wasn't just because of

still part of the Carlyns and

family members had become the focal point of all their

In contrast

Whitney's

As for the fate of the Sanders, what matters more to me is you." I tried

"How's your body? Can

I'm fine, but Mom and Dad...

a deep,

"Shouldn't they die?"

voice was soft, devoid of any

only then saw

all black, and I couldn't tell how long he