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.

my limbs were intact; I hadn't lost any arms

superficial injuries-some cuts from the

and I felt a slight urge to vomit, likely from

slow, unsteady steps through the water, heading toward

Whitney, you must survive.

used the dim light outside to examine Whitney

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

they were just

the current situation was the best possible outcome

face and hoarsely whispered,

"Chloe..."

finally breathed a sigh of relief as I

you? Does your

I'm fine. You've been protecting

she started using my heart, the compatibility between her body and the heart had gradually improved over the past six months, with no rejection symptoms at all. In fact, her health

I did before I died at least I protected my

have you been

had spent many years with Taylor, knowing

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

already suspected this. The enemy had gone to such great

that I had already died once,

of the sons were not very capable, they had lived a comfortable life under Grandma's protection for half

lived a life of ease and privilege, as

hatred toward them was undoubtedly deeper than the one they

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

the Carlyns

become the focal

In contrast

Whitney's worry

starkly different. "Sorry, I can't empathize with you on this. As for the fate of the Sanders,

your body?

but Mom and Dad... They're going to

corner came a deep, male voice, its

"Shouldn't they die?"

was soft, devoid of any emotion-neither joy,

to look and only then

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