The coming week on The Bold and the Beautiful opens with a mood that feels heavier than anything Los Angeles has endured in recent memory. People don’t gather because they loved Luna, but because her chaos touched every corner of their lives—Steffy, Sheila, Lee, Finn, and even the families orbiting them. For all the turmoil Luna caused, for all the danger she unleashed, one fact remains unaltered: she was still family. A mother’s daughter. A grandmother’s hope. A young woman who spiraled far beyond anyone’s control. And so, her relatives choose to face this final farewell with restraint, dignity, and the ache of unfinished conversations.

The emotional pull begins immediately. Luna’s funeral isn’t grand, public, or dramatic; it is small, somber, deliberately quiet. The Forresters and Spencers keep their distance, allowing her fractured family to enter the chapel alone. Lee steps in first, rigid as stone. Sheila follows, her expression unreadable, masking a grief she refuses to show. Finn moves behind them, conflicted, torn between his oath as a doctor and the emotional wreckage Luna left in her wake. None of them anticipate how the next hour will shatter everything they believe.

The service unfolds in a ghostlike stillness. Lee sits tall but tense, her silence a harsher condemnation than words. Sheila stares at the closed coffin, anger and sorrow twisting beneath her carefully composed face. Finn keeps his head bowed, suffocating under guilt. “It didn’t have to end like this,” he whispers, the words barely audible. When the time comes for final words, Lee rises first, placing a single white flower atop the casket. “You disgraced us,” she murmurs, “but you were still ours.” Sheila’s voice trembles as she adds, “I tried, baby. I truly did.” Finn follows, resting his shaking hand on the coffin. “I’m sorry I couldn’t save you,” he whispers—an apology directed as much at himself as at Luna.

Grief, regret, fear, and resentment tangle in that small room, binding the mourners together even as Luna’s absence tears them apart.

Once the priest ends the ceremony, people drift out quietly. Lee pauses in the doorway before leaving. Sheila tells Finn she needs air. Soon the chapel empties—except for Finn. He cannot bring himself to leave. Something keeps him rooted by the coffin, a tug he can’t explain. Guilt? Doubt? Or the echo of Luna’s desperate voice begging to be believed?

Compelled by something deeper than logic, he approaches the casket again. “I need to see you one last time,” he whispers. He lifts the lid.

And everything stops.

The coffin is empty.

No body. No blanket. Not even a trace that Luna had ever been inside. Finn staggers backward, shock ripping through him. “What… what is this?” he gasps.

The silence becomes monstrous.

Instantly, the implications hit him: Someone stole Luna’s body. Or Luna never died. Or worst of all—someone engineered the entire tragedy from the beginning.

Questions flood him. Did Baker lie? Did Lee know more than she admitted? Was Sheila involved? If Luna is alive… where?

The truth threatens to ignite chaos across the city. Alliances will break. Secrets will surface. Wounds will reopen.

And as Finn stares at the hollow coffin, trembling with realization, one fact crystallizes:

Luna’s story is not ending.

It’s rising from the grave.