The danger in EastEnders this week doesn’t always announce itself. Sometimes it pours wine behind closed shutters. Sometimes it smiles from the dock. And sometimes, it simply disappears — leaving someone else to take the fall.

Walford is entering a volatile phase where threats are no longer obvious villains but psychological pressure points. A newcomer embedding herself too deeply, a courtroom moment that exposes the limits of justice, and a teenager vanishing under the weight of a deadly secret are all part of a week that feels less like coincidence and more like collapse.

The common thread is control — who has it, who loses it, and who is quietly tightening their grip.

Since her arrival, Beia Apoll has moved through the Square with unsettling precision. Introduced as an old school acquaintance of Linda Carter, she quickly shifted focus, attaching herself to Honey Mitchell with an intensity that has not gone unnoticed.

At first, it looked like loyalty. Support. Friendship. But cracks are starting to show.

Beia’s outrage at how Honey is treated at the Minute Mart escalates rapidly, particularly following Honey’s back injury and Suki Panesar’s characteristically blunt response. Rather than defusing the situation, Beia inflames it — nudging Honey toward confrontation, then further toward legal action.

What begins as concern quickly curdles into something more dangerous: encouragement to weaponize grievance.

The situation takes a darker turn behind the shop’s locked doors. Wine flows. Guards drop. And Honey admits a long-buried truth — that Suki once tried to kiss her.

It is not a recent incident. It was addressed. It was complicated. And it was deeply personal.

Beia’s reaction, however, is not one of empathy. It is calculation.

This revelation isn’t treated as emotional history. It becomes leverage. Suddenly, Beia isn’t just defending Honey — she is holding a grenade, and Suki Panesar is the intended target.

The danger here isn’t a lawsuit. It’s exposure. And Beia appears far too comfortable escalating a private vulnerability into a public reckoning.

Online reaction has been swift and suspicious. Viewers aren’t questioning whether Beia means well — they are questioning whether she means harm.

Comment sections are filled with comparisons to psychological thrillers, with fans describing her behaviour as obsessive, invasive, and quietly manipulative. The theory gaining traction is simple but chilling: Beia isn’t protecting Honey — she’s inserting herself into her life, destabilising it, and positioning herself as indispensable.

Whether motivated by need, obsession, or something darker, Beia’s fixation has crossed from supportive into predatory.

Elsewhere in Walford, control takes a far more disturbing form. The trial of Joel Marshall reaches its most unsettling moment not through testimony, but through expression.

As Vicki Fowler breaks under intense cross-examination, her truth pulled apart and reframed, Joel looks up — and smiles.

Not nervously. Not defensively. Confidently.

That smile lands like a psychological blow. It signals power. It tells Vicki that even here, even now, he believes himself untouchable. The courtroom stops feeling like a place of justice and starts feeling like another arena of control.

Vicki leaves in pieces, convinced that the outcome may already be decided — if not legally, then emotionally.

While one threat smiles in plain sight, another simply vanishes.

Jasmine Fischer is gone. No farewell. No confrontation. Just a message to Oscar Branning and silence.

But Jasmine hasn’t just left Walford. She’s left behind a lie so large it could condemn Zoe Slater to life behind bars.

Viewers know the truth: Jasmine struck Anthony Truman in a desperate moment after Zoe was rendered unconscious. Zoe took the blame. Jasmine stayed silent. And now she’s gone.

The fallout is immediate. Patrick Truman reels from losing his newly discovered granddaughter. Oscar collapses under guilt. And Kat Slater is left