Electra can still feel the blow of Dylan’s confession reverberating through her, the kind of truth that doesn’t simply surprise you—it breaks something inside you. The moment Dylan admitted she was the one driving the car the night Luna was hit, Electra felt reality slip, everything she believed about that horrible night collapsing at once. Shock blends with dread, twisting into the awful realization that the story she accepted as fact may have never been true at all.

For months, Electra has been haunted by the image of Luna lying limp on the asphalt—a moment that was terrifying yet strangely relieving. It meant Steffy and the kids were finally out of danger. But now, as she stares at Dylan’s shaking hands and streaks of tears, Electra feels her certainty disintegrate. For the first time, she wonders if the tragic end everyone believed actually never happened.

Dylan’s voice falters as she recounts the aftermath—the panic, the paralysis, the inability to react. She describes hiding behind a parked car, frozen, watching emergency lights flood the street. She insists she never ran away; she stayed in the dark and witnessed paramedics lift Luna’s bloodied body. The part that claws at Electra’s insides is when Dylan murmurs that Luna was still breathing.

She remembers the oxygen mask, the frantic commands from the paramedics, the rush toward the ambulance. None of this aligns with what Chief Baker later released to the public: that Luna died instantly, that justice arrived the moment she fell. Electra tries to push back, to tell Dylan she must have misinterpreted what she saw, but the raw honesty in Dylan’s eyes strips away her ability to deny it.

There were always pieces that didn’t quite fit, and now—piece by piece—they begin rearranging into something far more disturbing. When Electra demands to know why Dylan waited so long to confess, Dylan collapses onto the couch and buries her face in her hands. She admits the guilt has been eating her alive, but the hit-and-run isn’t the only secret she’s been hiding.

After a shaky breath, Dylan meets Electra’s eyes and confesses she never believed Luna actually died at the hospital. She never saw a body. She never saw a white sheet pulled over her. Instead, she remembers chaos—paramedics rushing with purpose, medical staff moving with urgency, and Baker standing deliberately between her and the stretcher. Then came the announcement that seemed too convenient, too rehearsed: Luna dead on arrival. Case closed. No room for complications.

Electra’s pulse quickens as Dylan goes on. She explains how Baker acted strangely afterward—sidestepping questions, avoiding her gaze, and refusing to release any detailed report. The chief branded it an uncomplicated tragedy, but Dylan remembers overhearing him muttering into his phone that same night, telling someone, “We’ll control it. Just keep her contained.” At the time Dylan dismissed it. Now? She’s terrified she heard exactly what she thought she did.

The explanation sounds unbelievable at first—wild, even. Yet, as Electra recalls the weeks that followed, she remembers every moment that felt off: the missing death certificate, the restricted medical files, Lee’s silence so unlike her usual decisiveness, and Sheila’s bizarre mix of sorrow and suspicion.

The more she thinks about it, the clearer it becomes. Luna—calculating, intelligent, unyielding Luna—was not someone who would allow herself to disappear so cleanly. If she had even the faintest chance of survival, she would use it as a weapon. She would disappear. She would wait. And she would return far more dangerously than before.

Dylan squeezes Electra’s hands, barely able to force out her most terrifying thought: What if Baker lied? What if Luna is alive… and watching us? The room falls into a heavy silence, thick and electrified, as that possibility settles between them like a dark presence neither can ignore.

Electra’s thoughts spiral—imagining Luna recovering in the shadows, tracking their every move, preparing to reclaim control of the city she once terrorized. If Dylan is right, then none of them are safe. Not their jobs, not their families, not the fragile sense of peace they’ve tried so hard to rebuild.

And looming over all of it sits the question neither wants to say aloud: Did Chief Baker orchestrate a cover-up? And is Luna out there somewhere, already plotting her next devastating move?

So what do you think, fans? If Luna survived, is she preparing an explosive revenge return—or a quiet, lethal comeback that will strike when everyone least expects it?