Jen lays out the mission: save the house, start the film festival, build something that matters. We hear about Ian—the would-be savior in California—but the audience has yet to meet him. As a developer circles and demolition looms, the Grafton crew scrambles into a bidding war. With seconds to spare, they secure the house. But now the real work begins.

Ian arrives—and he's both a creator and a wrecking ball. As he assesses the house and barns (soon-to-be studio spaces), his bold ideas immediately clash with the Grafton crew's nostalgia-driven instincts. What seemed like a rescue mission now feels like a philosophical war. Can these two visions coexist—or will one have to win?

As demo commences in earnest, the team discovers the house together—including things even the Grafton crew never knew were there. Through images, artifacts, and stories spanning the Revolutionary War to the present, we meet the past residents of Potter Hill Road. The house isn't just a structure—it's a monument to lives lived, a vessel of memory. And now it's theirs to honor.

Jon Knight of HGTV's Farmhouse Fixer—Massachusetts resident and former New Kid on the Block—stops by to lend his expertise. Former resident Danielle, who spent countless preteen hours at the house professing her love for Jon Knight, watches her childhood crush demolish her childhood bedroom. Past and present collide in the best possible way.

With the main house's direction established (if still contentious), attention shifts to the barns—the future studio spaces that will make the film festival real. Ian's vision here is even bolder, and the challenges multiply: structural damage, budget overruns, permit nightmares. The reality sets in: they're not just renovating—they're building a functioning creative campus from scratch.

A major setback forces everyone to ask: have they bitten off more than they can chew? The Grafton crew begins to see Ian's larger vision, even as doubt creeps in. Jen, torn between nostalgia for what was and excitement for what could be, has a breakthrough: this isn't about preserving the past. It's about giving the house a future.

The house speaks: some changes are needed to keep her viable, to honor her by letting her evolve. Ian speaks: some changes are needed because his vision demands it. The friction between nostalgia and progress—simmering since Episode 2—roars to life. Specific design decisions force impossible choices. The Grafton crew digs in. Ian pushes harder. Something has to give.

The conflict comes to a head. Jen and the Grafton crew face the hardest decision of the renovation: do they cling to what the house was, or trust Ian's vision of what it could become? In letting go, they take the biggest risk of the project—and commit to letting the house be something new. The turn is made. There's no going back.

The house is ready—barely. As the Blackstone Valley Film Festival opens its doors, the team sees their monumental gamble pay off. The Revolutionary-era farmhouse, once slated for demolition, now stands as a monument reborn: a place where stories were lived, and where new stories will be told. The past and future collide in one impossible, triumphant night.

The festival is a success. The house is saved. But as the dust settles and the team catches their breath, new questions emerge. The Blackstone Valley is full of forgotten stories and endangered landmarks—houses with histories as rich as Potter Hill Road, slipping away while no one's watching. Jen and Ian begin to wonder: was this a one-time rescue, or the beginning of something bigger?

A tip comes in about another property. The crew is exhausted, the budget is tapped, and the festival itself demands attention as it finds its footing. Can they—should they—take on another impossible mission? And as Jen's worlds continue to collide—filmmaker, preservationist, festival director, local leader—she realizes the hardest question isn't whether they can save another house. It's whether she can sustain the life she's built from all these pieces, or if something has to give.

The work isn't finished. It's only just begun.