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 lost

only superficial injuries-some cuts from the broken glass,

I felt a slight urge to vomit, likely

unsteady steps through the water, heading toward

Whitney, you must survive.

I used the

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

they were just

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

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

"Chloe..."

relief

are you? Does your heart

I'm fine. You've been protecting

things are hard to explain. Whitney had once undergone a heart transplant. The heart had a 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

did before

you been

Taylor, knowing the Carlyns better than

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

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 intending

that I had already

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

of ease and privilege, as if it

undoubtedly deeper than the one they held for

and me yet, it wasn't just because of our family ties, like Taylor's

he was still part of the

family members had become the

In contrast

Whitney's worry

As for the fate of the Sanders, what matters more to

your body? Can

and Dad... They're going to

came a deep,

"Shouldn't they die?"

devoid of any emotion-neither

turned to look and only then saw the man in

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