Kate's breathing grew shallow.
She wasn't looking at her little sister anymore.
Not truly.
The way Ivy stood. The tilt of her head. The eerie, satisfied smile stretching her lips—it was her. It was Jessell.
"Ivy..." Kate stepped forward, reaching out like she could pull her back from wherever she had gone.
But Ivy's eyes narrowed.
"You're always ruining things," Ivy said. Her voice was calm—too calm. "You were never supposed to come."
A shiver ran down Kate's spine. "What are you talking about?"
"I belonged here long before you dragged me with you. This house... this room... him." Her hand swept to the empty bed. "Everything makes sense here."
Kate's voice cracked. "There's no sense in this, Ivy. It's not real. It's them. Don't you see? Peter... Miss Jessel... they're using you!"
Ivy laughed.
Cold and beautiful.
"You just don't want me to have someone. You've always been like that. Controlling. Like Mom."
Kate blinked like she'd been slapped.
"I'm trying to save you."
"No one's asking you to."
The silence that followed was unbearable.
Outside, a black horse stood beneath the moonlight.
Its breath came out in clouds. Its eyes glinted unnaturally. Like it remembered death.
Like it carried it.
Miles sat on its back, staring up at the window of Ivy's room. His face unreadable. His hands still smeared faintly with blood from the fight no one dared bring up again.
And his smile—
It was Peter's.
Kate backed away as Ivy stood her ground, backlit by the dim lamp. "You're not my sister anymore," Kate whispered, heart breaking.
Ivy stepped closer.
"I'm still me," she said, tilting her head. "Just... better. He makes me better."
Kate flinched. "He's not making you better, Ivy. He's destroying you."
But Ivy wasn't listening anymore. Her hands clutched at her chest. Her breath hitched. And suddenly, her legs gave out and she collapsed on the floor, screaming.
"MILES!"
The scene in the bedroom turned into a storm.
Books flew from shelves. The lamp shattered. Curtains twisted as if a hurricane lived inside the walls.
Kate dropped to her knees beside her, screaming for her sister to wake up.
But Ivy thrashed violently.
"No! Don't take him from me! Don't take him away!"
Kate wrapped her arms around her. "Ivy! He's not real! Fight it! FIGHT HIM!"
But Ivy's eyes rolled back.
And when she stopped screaming—when her head stilled and her eyes met Kate's again—they weren't Ivy's eyes anymore.
They were black.
And empty.
Kate stepped back, horror flooding her face.
"Ivy?"
The girl on the floor smiled.
"Don't call me that anymore."
Miles entered the room, silent as a shadow.
The window still open behind him.
His eyes were glowing in the darkness.
Kate stood between them now, realizing far too late that she was standing in the middle of something ancient—a love story twisted by death and possession. One that was never meant to end.
"You can't have her," Kate whispered.
Miles stared.
"She's mine," he said.
"She's my sister."
"I don't care."
Kate ran.
Down the hallway, calling Flora's name. Screaming for Mrs. Grose.
But the house... shifted. Doors closed. The staircase vanished.
She was trapped.
Ivy stood in the corridor behind her, quiet and still. No longer screaming. No longer crying.
Just smiling.
And the moment Kate reached for her again—
Miles appeared.
Knife in hand.
And it was the last thing Kate ever saw.
Later that night, Ivy sat in the garden, barefoot, dress soaked in blood and rain.
Flora twirled beside her, humming lullabies to the stars, pretending nothing had changed.
Ivy whispered something under her breath, too soft to catch.
Then Miles stepped behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. His hands no longer cold.
Her head fell back against him.
"Did you love her?" Miles asked.
Ivy stared at the flowers swaying in the night.
"I did."
He kissed her neck.
"You don't anymore, do you?"
Ivy shook her head slowly.
And smiled.