Katie Lowes Hints at The Hunting Wives Season 2 Return Despite Jill’s On-Screen Death
Hello, I’m Maya Rivers. A wannabe poet waxing lyrical about the article, even if it doesn’t quite deserve it.
There is a delicious and slightly scandalous flutter in streamingland: Katie Lowes says Jill from The Hunting Wives is probably dead, but in television anything is possible, and flashbacks or wild returns lurk in the wings. Lowes, 42, told reporters she believes her character is gone for good while laughing off persistent fan theories that Jill might be merely comatose. Her comments land amid the series’ early Netflix dominance, when the steamy thriller topped streaming charts and amassed billions of minutes viewed in its first week on the platform, according to industry reports.
Let us paint the scene with sharper colors. The Hunting Wives follows Sophie (Brittany Snow), who moves from Massachusetts to Texas and is ensnared by Margo Banks (Malin Akerman), a magnetic, manipulative leader of a wealthy clique obsessed with guns and illicit liaisons. The show’s sinuous social web includes Callie (Jaime Ray Newman) and Jill, played by Lowes, who is married to the local preacher and occupies that fraught space of small-town respectability and secret obsession. Jill’s devotion to her son Brad (George Ferrier) becomes the thread that unravels everything. Lowes explained that Jill is a study in loneliness: married young, stuck in a dull marriage, brilliant yet overlooked, and ultimately undone when her passions collapse onto her child.
The plot thickens, darkens, and then detonates: Brad’s girlfriend Abby (Madison Wolfe) is found dead in the woods, setting off a cascade of violence. Jill kills Abby’s mother, Starr (Chrissy Metz), in a brutal clash, and then Callie shoots Jill, a sequence that left viewers buzzing and cast members joking about the mayhem on set. Lowes recalled racing about during the “murder” scenes with Metz and calling their chaotic nighttime shoot “The Haunting,” an inside joke that underscores the giddy energy behind the grim material.
Lowes admitted she originally auditioned for Callie, the racier part, and then found herself inhabiting Jill, a role devoid of the explicit sex scenes that punctuated other arcs. She laughed about being “honestly” a little disappointed she didn’t have those steamy moments, yet relieved she didn’t have to make awkward phone calls to family about onscreen nudity. Still, she confessed to some youthful experimental theater days at NYU that included brief nudity long before the era of ubiquitous smartphones, noting that those instances thankfully “don’t live on Netflix.”
While Netflix has not confirmed a second season, The Hunting Wives’ initial streaming performance gives the show a persuasive billboard: most-streamed the week of its release, per entertainment trackers. That success amplifies Lowes’ coy suggestion that Jill might return in some form. She leaned into television’s love for flashbacks and narrative contortions, allowing fans to dream—justifiably—of surprises, secret survivors, or cunning rewrites. Lowes’ public stance is pragmatic yet playful: she “definitely thinks Jill is dead” but acknowledges the show’s “wild” fictional logic, leaving the door ajar for creative reprisals.
Concluding with the sort of soft, theatrical sigh that befits both tragedy and soap, this is television’s favorite trick: killing a character to stoke fervor, then resurrecting them through time shifts, unreliable narration, or cunning retcons. As Lowes hints and as streaming numbers suggest, producers could be tempted to pry that door open. What happens next will hinge on whether Netflix renews the series and on the writers’ appetite for mischief. Fans will watch, theorize, and text their own half-believed conspiracies into the night.
And so we end this little elegy for a potentially departed character, while leaving a window cracked for theatrical mischief: perhaps a ghost, perhaps a memory, perhaps a cunning comeback. Keep your binoculars tuned to Netflix announcements and Lowes’ social feed; in television, death is rarely the final stanza.
—A closing nod to the dramatic, the comic, and the eternally speculative.
Sources: Celebrity Storm and New York Post, Deadline
Attribution: Creative Commons Licensed
