Now, generations later, the Whitmores still thrive.
Their bloodline runs deep into the Hollow's soil.
Daniel Whitmore sits at the head of the family, his wife Evelyn beside him, their children growing, learning, preparing.
His father, Jonathan, had ruled with discipline.
His mother, Eleanor, had shaped the family from the inside.
And now, it was his turn.
To protect what had been built.
To raise the next generation.
To ensure that Whitmore Hollow never faced the same fate as Maplewood.
Because history would not repeat itself.
Not as long as the Whitmores stood.
Not as long as they fed the Hollow before it could feed on them.
The wind moves through the trees.
The roots twist deeper into the ground.
And beneath the soil, beneath the weight of every secret the Whitmores have ever buried-
Something waits.
Because Maplewood is gone.
But its ghosts?
They remember.
And Whitmore Hollow?
It is still hungry.
Welcome home.