"I'd rather lose myself in him... than live without him."
The lake was still.
Not a ripple. Not a sound. Just black, endless water reflecting the heavy clouds above. The old iron gate that led down to the dock creaked open in the wind. Ivy walked barefoot across the frozen ground. Her nightgown was soaked, clinging to her skin. Her eyes were hollow.
She no longer remembered how long she'd been awake.
Kate's voice still echoed in her head.
"He's not what you think."
"He's not a boy. He's a shadow."
"Ivy, you have to fight him."
But the voice was fading now, softer, distant.
And Miles was standing at the end of the dock, waiting.
Like he always was.
He turned slowly when he heard her steps.
"You came."
"I always do," Ivy said.
His dark curls were dripping. His pale skin glowed in the moonlight. There was something in his eyes now—something not quite human. Not quite Miles.
Maybe not anymore.
"I thought you'd leave," he whispered, brushing her hair back.
"There's nothing to go back to."
Miles stared at her, eyes wide and loving. "That's not true. You still had your sister."
Ivy shook her head. "She was already gone. Even when she was alive."
She touched his chest.
"I only ever wanted you."
He smiled.
But it wasn't sweet.
It was final.
"I need to show you something," he said, and took her hand.
They walked together down the rotting dock, past the broken lamp, toward the edge of the lake.
And then—
He stepped into the water.
"Ivy," he said, extending his arm. "Come."
She hesitated.
Just for a second.
The cold wind howled through the trees.
She looked back—toward the mansion, the mirrors, the dolls, the silence. There was no more Flora. No more Mrs. Grose. No more Kate.
Just this place.
And Miles.
Only Miles.
She stepped in.
The water swallowed them slowly.
Up to their knees.
Their waists.
Ivy was shaking, not from the cold, but from the feeling in her chest—like her heart was breaking apart and blooming at the same time.
Like fear and love had merged.
Miles stopped, waist-deep.
"This is where they died," he said softly. "Peter. Jessel. Your sister."
Ivy looked around.
Nothing but darkness.
"You'll see them soon."
She looked up at him.
"Miles..."
His eyes burned now, black and endless.
And yet, she stepped closer.
"I want you to take me," she said.
A beat of silence.
"I already have."
The water surged suddenly—up around their shoulders, their necks. Ivy clung to him as if letting go would tear her apart.
She didn't fight the current.
She didn't scream.
She smiled.
As he pressed his mouth to hers beneath the surface, the lake sealed them in. The world above disappeared.
And down below... something opened.
A memory?
A door?
A prison?
She didn't know.
She only knew him.
When the morning came, the house stood quiet.
The mirrors were all shattered.
Kate's necklace lay in the hallway, cracked down the center.
And in the lake—where the fog drifted thick and heavy—two sets of footprints led into the water...
...but none returned.
ONE YEAR LATER
A new babysitter stood in front of the Bly Manor gates.
She was young. Naïve. Nervous.
She had no idea.
Flora and Miles were gone.
The new family didn't know what happened.
The manor was sold quietly. The deaths covered. Disappearances ignored.
But upstairs... in the west wing... in the room that had once belonged to Peter Quint...
A mirror remained untouched.
Cracked.
And sometimes—if you looked in just the right corner—you'd see them:
A girl with long, wet hair.
A boy with black eyes.
And a kiss that never ends.
THE END