As the Blue Umbrella helicopters vanish into the sky, carrying Ethan and Mia away from the nightmare of the Baker estate, Eveline stands alone in the attic of the Guest House. Sunlight filters through the shattered roof, casting a pale glow on her face—twisted with sorrow, disbelief, and something achingly childlike. Her light blue eyes, once icy and sharp, shimmer with unshed tears. In a filthy black dress and boots, her small frame trembles with a pain no one ever cared to notice—raw, human grief.

She should be gone. The E‑Necrotoxin was meant to end her. Yet she lingers—an echo in a decaying home. As the last helicopter fades, Eveline stares at the sky. It’s taken everything she wanted: a family. For three years, she chased that dream, bound people through infection, desperate for love. But in forcing affection, she controlled, destroyed. Now, only blood‑soaked ruin remains.

No one ever saw the child beneath the bioweapon. Not the scientists who created her. Not the soldiers who used her. To the world, she’s a monster, a failed experiment. But under the mold and madness is just a lonely girl—unloved, unwanted, unheard. Cruelty is all she’s ever known, yet she longed for warmth, a mother’s embrace, a sibling’s laugh. Even that fragile illusion has crumbled.

Her composure shatters. Eveline collapses onto the floor, dry sobs wracking her body as broken words crack the silence.

“I can’t believe how useless I am… No wonder no one loves me…”

Minutes stretch into hours as she stays broken and alone, then… something shifts. The sorrow doesn’t fade—it hardens. Her sobs cease. Her breath steadies. Slowly, she rises. Her glassy eyes burn with grim resolve. If her family is gone, she’ll build another: stronger, tighter, perfect. One that won’t leave. One that won’t die.

She steps through the wreckage, humming “Go Tell Aunt Rhody” in a voice soft and haunting. There’s a whole world beyond this house.

And Eveline will find her new family. Nothing and no one will stop her this time.