The week opens with a tremor in the air, as if Salem itself is leaning into a storm it can sense on the horizon. The town’s quiet is a veneer over a maze of schemes, cutthroat ambitions, and heartbreak that refuses to fade. In the center of it all stands Sophia, a girl whose bright moments mask a growing, unsettling darkness. While Holly basks in a fragile sense of normalcy, Sophia’s obsession with control tightens its grip, turning a seemingly innocent room into a war room where every action is calculated and every motive feels like a trap waiting to snap shut.

Sophia’s first moves reveal a meticulous mind bent on revenge or redemption, depending on what she can control. She studies Holly from the shadows, her social media scrolls becoming a map to vulnerabilities. A burn of jealousy flares when she sees Holly flourishing in happiness—moments with Tate that should be light and ordinary, yet for Sophia feel like scorch marks on a memory she can’t rewrite. The impulse is dangerous: a cruel thought, encoded in a whisper, that Holly might choke on something she uses for her own well-being. The thought is chilling, but it’s only the beginning. She even toys with the modern tools at her disposal, turning to guidance from an AI to learn what sororities seek in potential new members, not for self-improvement but to sharpen the blade of resentment. Sophia’s mind works like a lockpick—patient, precise, and dangerously effective.

In a public face, Sophia maintains the perfect patient act. Dr. Gregory becomes a quiet stage manager who probes and nudges, and Sophia responds with a rehearsed, remorseful demeanor. She communicates through notes, a clinical presentation that hides the truth behind a veneer of contrition. The doctor is not fooled, but he’s also not a partner in her hidden game—he’s a witness to the disconnect between her outward calm and the storm roiling beneath.

Across town, Holly and Tate share a private, tender moment that briefly hints at healing, a rare pause in the ongoing drama. Their softness is interrupted when Ari walks in, an awkward interruption that pulls Holly back to the precariousness of their world. The moment, ordinary on the surface, lands like a snap of a trapdoor, reminding us that every circle around Salem is watched, measured, and weighted with consequences.

The tension spikes when Dr. Gregory reaches out with a new summons: Bay View becomes the setting for a confrontation that promises to pull threads from several tangled skeins. Kristen and Brady stand in Rachel’s room, a charged pairing of protectiveness and stubbornness. Kristen distrusts, Brady maintains a steady, searching calm. The situation escalates as a note from Sophia surfaces, a tangible reminder of the fragility of progress and the fragility of trust. Brady pushes for boundaries that would shield Rachel from Sophia’s reach, while Kristen argues that real improvement requires more than distance—it requires a plan that doesn’t fracture the family further.

Family therapy is proposed as a constructive path, but Kristen brushes it off, casting doubt on its usefulness in a life already bent toward conflict. The moment when Rachel enters the scene—tired, overwhelmed, and frightened by the fight she’s witnessed—heightens the stakes. The room feels smaller, the room feels louder, and the rift between parents becomes a chorus of voices that can’t agree on what’s best for a child who has already known too much upheaval.

After the storm at Bay View, the narrative shifts to the hallway of secrets: Holly arrives with Dr. Gregory, and Sophia’s carefully cultivated image of remorse begins to crack as she hands Holly a long apology letter. But the pen behind the apology holds a darker ink. Sophia uses the letter to pivot the conversation toward old wounds—pointing fingers at Holly for past missteps and forcing Holly to confront unspoken guilt. The apology, carefully staged, becomes a Trojan horse: a moment that lulls Holly into a sense of reconciliation before Sophia reveals her true intention.

The scene shifts again to a quiet exchange that reveals a chilling, almost surgical, manipulation. Sophia pockets Holly’s skincare supplements, a small theft that feels almost ceremonial in its cold precision. Alone, she empties the bottle and replaces the contents with pills—a sinister double exposure: what Holly is using to take