Start with a small, quiet base camp
Your whole house, offered at once, is too much information for a rabbit who has known one barn and one caregiver's voice. Give her a pen or a single calm room as base camp: a hidey house with two exits so she never feels cornered, a litter tray in the corner she chooses, unlimited hay, and a cardboard box to shred when the house gets loud. Covering part of the pen with a blanket dims it and muffles sound, and a rabbit who can retreat somewhere dark will cope with a busy household far better than one on permanent display. Put the pen where household life is audible but not on top of her — not beside the television, not in the hallway everyone stampedes through.
Let her set the pace of contact
Barn rabbits often know one person's hands and nobody else's, so resist the family's urge to pass her round. For the first days, simply be near the pen: read, talk, let her watch you being uninteresting. Hand-feed a favourite leaf through the bars, then with the door open, and let her be the one who closes the distance. Picking her up should wait until she is relaxed around you on the floor — being lifted is the moment a rabbit's instincts say a predator has her, and one frightened scramble early on can set trust back weeks. Children can help best by sitting still inside the pen as furniture she investigates, which feels like a game to them and like safety to her.
Layer the household in, one sound at a time
Once she eats comfortably with you in the room and stretches out in the open, widen things gradually: the pen door open into the room, then a second room, then the vacuum cleaner heard from a distance rather than appearing beside her. Introduce other pets visually and at a distance first, with a barrier between, and never let a dog bounce up to the pen "to say hello" in the first fortnight. Keep her feeding and cleaning times fixed while everything else changes; a rabbit who can predict breakfast can absorb a surprising amount of novelty around it.
Reading whether it is working
Progress looks boring, and that is the point: eating hay in the open, flopping onto her side, nudging your hand for the leaf she knows you hold. Going backwards looks like thumping at ordinary noises after she had stopped, refusing food, or spending whole days in the hidey — any of which means shrink the world again for a few days rather than pushing on. A rabbit who stops eating altogether needs a vet the same day, whatever the cause. KinsLe's Transferrable Profiles helps her keep what she brought with her: the rescue's record of her past, the foods she reliably eats and the handling she is used to transfers into her new profile intact, so the quiet-barn knowledge that kept her settled is not lost the day she moves into your noisier home.