Clara's heart raced as she felt Evelyn's cold gaze pierce through her. There was something different about the ghost mother now—her rage had subsided, replaced by an overwhelming sense of loss. Clara took a tentative step forward, her friends watching in horror.

"We're sorry," Clara whispered, her voice trembling. "We shouldn't have come here. We didn't mean to disturb you."

For a moment, the room was silent, save for the faint echo of the lullaby still hanging in the air. Evelyn's form flickered, her expression shifting between sorrow and confusion. Her lips moved again, but no sound came.

And then, with a final, fleeting glance, Evelyn began to fade, her ghostly form dissolving into the darkness. The temperature in the room returned to normal, and the oppressive weight that had filled the house lifted.

The door creaked open on its own, and the group stood in stunned silence, too afraid to move.

"Is... is she gone?" Sara whispered.

"I think so," Lily said softly, though the fear hadn't entirely left her.

Ben swallowed hard, wiping sweat from his brow. "We need to leave. Now."

Without another word, they bolted for the door, stumbling over each other in their rush to escape. As they emerged into the cool night air, they didn't look back. The Widow's House loomed behind them, silent once more, its dark windows watching as they fled.