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As she stepped onto the curb, the neighborhood felt different. The brownstone seemed to lean forward, its windows like heavy lids over dark eyes. Inside, the Turners were waiting. Sean stood in the kitchen, his hands trembling as he deboned a bird, the rhythmic thwack of the knife echoing through the silent house. Dorothy sat in the nursery, clutching a wooden doll as if it were breathing, her smile fixed in a mask of desperate, fragile perfection.

The front door creaked open before Leanne could reach for the handle. Julian stood there, a glass of expensive burgundy in one hand and a look of pure dread in the other. He didn't speak; he simply stepped aside, letting the cold wind follow her into the foyer. servant-s04e01-1080p-web-movizland-com-mp4

Leanne sat in the back of the town car, her eyes fixed on the rain-slicked pavement of Spruce Street. Behind her lay the ashes of the cult’s influence; before her stood the brownstone that had become both her sanctuary and her cage. The air inside the car was thick with the scent of ozone and rotting flowers. As she stepped onto the curb, the neighborhood

Leanne didn't look up. She looked at the floorboards, where the cracks seemed to be widening, revealing a bottomless dark beneath the foundation. She felt the power humming in her fingertips, a low-frequency vibration that made the lightbulbs flicker and the walls weep moisture. Sean stood in the kitchen, his hands trembling

The war wasn't coming anymore. It had arrived, and it was settling into the guest room.

"You're back," Dorothy called from upstairs, her voice melodic and terrifyingly thin.