Even After Her Death Novel Chloe Novels & Stories

Her expression turned terrified, and her voice trembled as she shouted, "Don't push me--Lena, what are you doing--don't push me!" She fell backward. I stood where I was. I didn't reach out. I didn't touch her. And unlike in my last life, I didn't try to grab her. I didn't even move a finger. Chloe's body was already leaning backward. Her expression shifted from fear to triumph. Because she thought she was about to hang suspended in midair. The comments would explode. She would go viral. The rope snapped tight. Then-- A crisp crack sounded. Like a dry branch breaking.

I heard some rustling from inside and took a step back so as not to crowd her when she came out. Chloe swung open the door and smiled at me. It didn’t quite reach her eyes, but I wasn’t surprised by this. I wouldn’t be smiling either. “Hey, Chloe. You ready to go?” I asked. She nodded slowly. “I think so.” I raised an eyebrow at this. “I’m nervous,” she admitted, closing the door behind herself. “Which is silly because my mother has been dead, and this isn’t her first burial. I already went through that.”

Chloe's POV I made sure to prepare everything I need for the party last night before going to bed to make time for my annual Halloween tradition. I sat on the bed with the laptop on my lap, a box of Kleenex beside me to use to wipe away my tears as I watch the moment where the female character; Allie, remembers her husband; Noah. This was how Andy saw me when she came in my room. "Chloe." She sang my name. Her expression changed when she saw the state that I'm in. "What's wrong?"

I was the only thing standing in her way if she wanted to marry him. However, there was one thing I never understood. Why didn't Kieran just break up with me if he truly loved her? Why insist on marrying me after I had already tried to walk away? Chloe suddenly realized there were people around her before I could think further. She finally regained her senses. She tried to cover herself, but the men on top of her remained oblivious. There was a small white pill bottle by the trash bin. It seemed that those men were unconscious because she had drugged them.

she said calmly, as if nothing had happened. I practically fled from her room. That night, I tossed and turned in my small bed in the servants' quarters. In the bed next to mine, Chloe slept peacefully, her breathing soft and even. Around two in the morning, a strange noise woke me. Chloe’s bed was empty. She was standing in the middle of the room, her back to me, perfectly still. She had a habit of sleepwalking, so I usually just waited for her to snap out of it. But tonight was different. She opened our door and walked out into the hall.

"She could have easily escaped the house before the flames spread, but he beat her so brutally that he knocked her unconscious. Josephine died from smoke inhalation." Josephine had paid for all the malice she committed in life; incredibly, Chloe felt no sense of relief. She had never imagined or wished such a horrific fate upon her stepmother. The detective kept talking for a bit longer, but Chloe tuned him out completely after that; her mind drifted far away, to a dark, somber place. "I wish you two a lot of success at Stanford," the detective said, shaking her hand. "I’m really glad you guys are back together."

Six months later, on a snowy night, a dull thud echoed from the convent’s bell tower. Chloe jumped from the top, ending her own sinful life. She left a single note before she died: "If there's a next life, I never want to be born into the mafia." My spirit drifted through the snowy night, watching my sister’s broken body get tossed into an unmarked grave behind the convent. No flowers. No tears. No one to mourn her. Strangely, I didn't feel the thrill of revenge. I just didn't care anymore. The family glory, my parents' delayed tears—none of it meant a thing to me now.

I smiled, pulling her close. The moment I couldn't find Chloe, something in me broke. And there was a warm glow in the center of my chest. I heard a voice telling me she was dealing with unfinished business. I knew she had pursued Wendell. And from the look in her eyes, I knew he was dead. "You did well. We couldn't have won without you." Chloe looked at me, a small smile playing on her lips. "We make a good team," she said. I chuckled softly. "Yes, we do."

Although she always told herself that and ended up either forgetting or postponing it. Other than the AC problem, Chloe's place was nice. It was a fabulous flat—a one-bedroom apartment with a great kitchen and real hardwood floors. Reluctant to leave—both the apartment and the bed—Chloe moaned and stretched. The erotic novel she had been reading before she slept off the previous night was still on the bed next to her, open to page one-twenty-three. She trailed her finger over the page, then closed her eyes, remembering the way the delicious, decadent words had played over her body, with a little help from her fingers, of course....while thinking about Timothy. She stretched like a cat, tempt

I'll make it up to you tomorrow. I hit send and felt a piece of my soul wither. I was apologizing for having boundaries. Is this what Chloe’s life was really like? Being a prize that had to stay polished and agreeable at all times? I walked into my old house. I saw my mom and dad. They both looked surprised, the last time they saw Chloe in this house was in 9th grade. I went upstairs and found Chloe sitting on the bed, her head in her hands. "Did you do it?" she asked without looking up.