The sun rose over Salem — but not every secret stayed buried. Some were ready to explode.
Marlena stared into the mirror. Was she really herself this time — or just another illusion?
Across town, EJ poured himself a drink, his jaw tight. Someone would pay today. And he would make sure of it.
High heels. High drama. Sami Brady stormed back into town.
“I never signed those divorce papers,” she said, voice like a blade.
At the hospital, Kayla’s test results weren’t just bad — they were terrifying.
Outside, Rafe found a note pinned to his windshield: You missed something.
And somewhere across town, Ciara and Ben’s baby laughed — blissfully unaware of the coming storm.
The Brady Pub fell silent when Hope walked through the door.
Roman raised an eyebrow. “Back from the dead again, huh?”
Nicole clutched a photo tight — Eric, smiling… but not with her.
“Lies,” she whispered, “have expiration dates.”
Kristen moved through the DiMera tunnels, her next play already in motion.
Chad clutched Abigail’s locket, the weight of guilt too heavy to bear.
In a dark corner, Stefan’s memory began to spark.
“Salem needs saving,” he muttered. “And I’m not the hero you want.”
In the courtroom, Belle slammed the door so hard it echoed through the halls.
Justice wasn’t blind — it was bought and sold.
Behind her, Shawn stood firm.
“We fight together,” he said. “Always.”
In the lab, Tripp stared at the results.
The blood was real. The name wasn’t.
At City Hall, Paulina took the stage for her big speech —
A single gunshot cut her off.
Lani hit the floor, yelling for backup — and for answers.
Abe clutched his side, blood seeping through his suit.
“Tell Chanel…” he gasped. “I forgive her.”
Meanwhile, Johnny’s horror script started to mirror real deaths around town.
“It’s not fiction,” Allie whispered. “Not anymore.”
Doug recognized a face from half a century ago.
Julie’s hands trembled.
“It can’t be,” she said. “He’s been dead since ’82!”
And then — at the stroke of midnight — the entire city went dark.
In the crypt of the DiMera mansion, one candle flickered.
A shadow moved. A voice, cold and familiar, broke the silence:
“Miss me?”
Because in Salem…
No one ever really leaves.
