No, it cannot be. Seraphina's child is deceased and rests in the grave beside her. But wait, did Ann truly witness the burial of the child? Yet again, it seems implausible. Why would Aunt Penelope deceive everyone into believing that Thomas is her son? However, Nyx recalls that Aunt Penelope hid the truth of Mr. Charles' marriage with their former maid, a secret harbored within her. Thus, it is conceivable that Thomas is indeed the child of Mr. Charles, but not of Penelope.

As Nyx contemplates these revelations, she thought she may have delved too deeply into the matter. After all, why should she believe Ann's account of Mr. Charles marrying Seraphina? However, Nyx's memories resurface, reminding her of the two spectral encounters with Seraphina's restless spirit. It becomes clear that Nyx's actions did not merely provoke Ann's anger, but rather, it was Thomas who displayed the most profound distress. Seraphina's apparition seemed to seek vengeance for her son.

Additionally, Nyx recollects that Aunt Penelope never bore any more children, raising doubts about her ability to conceive Thomas or anyone else for that matter. The pieces of the puzzle align, suggesting that Thomas is not Aunt Penelope's biological son. Overwhelmed by the weight of this evidence, Nyx finds herself in a state of profound shock. Another sleepless night befalls her, haunted by the unsettling tales woven within the fabric of the mansion.

Driven by uncertainty, Nyx contemplates sharing her findings with Aunt Penelope. She clings to the hope that these revelations are mere illusions and that her aunt had not been deceiving them all. Nyx's heart yearns for the truth to be unveiled.

The following morning, as they gathered for breakfast, Nyx summoned her aunt to a private conversation. Penelope followed Nyx to the confines of the old room, curiosity etched upon her face.

"Auntie, there is a matter I wish to discuss with you," Nyx began, her voice trembling with nervousness.

"Yes?" Penelope replied, her brow furrowing in confusion.

Nyx hesitated, fearful that her words might sound foolish. Nonetheless, she mustered the courage to speak. "Is it true, Auntie, that Thomas... that he is, in fact, your own son?"

Penelope's brow arched in surprise, taken aback by the unexpected inquiry. "What do you mean?" she questioned, her voice tinged with confusion.

"I-I mean..." Nyx stammered, her nerves getting the best of her. "Is Thomas truly your biological child?"

Penelope studied Nyx's face for a fleeting moment, her expression a mix of curiosity and bewilderment. "Pray tell, who has put such ideas in your mind?" she queried. "Who has filled your head with these speculations?"

"Thus, Thomas is your true son, is he not?" Nyx attempted to mask her unease, struggling to maintain composure. "I am just asking."

Penelope's eyes met Nyx's, a flicker of surprise lingering within them. "Indeed, Thomas is my own flesh and blood, Nyx," she affirmed. "What has prompted you to doubt this? Is it because of your dislike towards him, casting uncertainty upon his rightful place as your cousin?"

Nyx found herself at a loss for words, uncertain of how to proceed. She wondered if confiding in her aunt would yield any resolution. "Yes, indeed," Nyx replied with a fabricated reassurance, masking her true intentions. "It was a passing thought, Auntie."

Within Nyx's heart, hope and doubt waged a silent battle. She yearned for her aunt's words to be sincere, desperately clinging to the belief that Penelope was not weaving a web of deception. Yet, the mounting evidence continued to cast shadows of uncertainty upon Thomas's true lineage.

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Seated upon her bed, Nyx found herself torn, unsure of what to believe. She wasn't certain whether to trust Ann's claims regarding Seraphina's marriage to Mr. Charles. Nyx yearned for absolute certainty. There remained one unlikely option—communicating with the spirit of Seraphina.

Night after night, in the old bedroom, she uttered phrases like "Come, Seraphina," "Please come," or "Tell me the truth about Thomas." Despite her efforts, the nights passed without a response. Nyx contemplated the idea of provoking Thomas's anger to summon the ghost once more, but the distressing encounter had been too overwhelming for her to bear. Perhaps a different approach was necessary. Could extending kindness and understanding to Thomas coax the ghostly apparition into appearing peacefully? Although reluctant, Nyx decided to give it a try and treat Thomas with the utmost kindness.

Additionally, Nyx determined to visit Seraphina's grave, where she would implore her to reveal the truth. Day after day, her grave offered no answers, yet Nyx persisted in her visits. The maids and her aunt Penelope grew curious, questioning the purpose behind her frequent visits to the cemetery, yet Nyx chose not to answer and decided to stop her visits temporarily to avoid further scrutiny.

During the dinner, as the meal drew to a close, a few amounts of food remained on the table. The plate holding the majority of the remaining food was near Nyx. Nyx decided to bestow a small kindness upon Thomas.

"Thomas..." Nyx trying to say those words. "You may have the remaining portion if it pleases you."

Thomas displayed a look of surprise as he accepted the offered remaining food, consuming them without uttering a word of gratitude. Nyx couldn't help but feel a tinge of disappointment, yet she resolved to continue her attempts at kindness.

Midnight passed, and still no sign of Seraphina. Nyx's patience waned, deciding to revisit the grave once more. To avoid further scrutiny by the maids and her aunt, she chose to go this midnight, despite the horror and chilling cold outside.

Holding a flickering candle, Nyx moved through the dark corridors, trying not to wake anyone. She continued walking while being scared. Stepping beyond the borders of the mansion, she ventured into the biting winds that rudely extinguished her frail flame. Undeterred, she ventured forth, her hair and gown danced in the frigid gusts as she went toward the graveyard, her body shivering with cold and trepidation.

Arriving at the graveyard, Nyx knelt beside Seraphina's resting place and began to call out to her, urging her to come. The howling wind was the only audible sound, but to Nyx, her voice was the only sound that made it through the desolate graveyard. After what felt like an eternity, Nyx slowly rose to her feet, hoping that her visit would increase the likelihood of Seraphina's appearance. Nyx went back to the mansion, clutching the candle tightly to light her way to the bed.

As Nyx was going, she noticed a softly illuminated door that should have remained firmly shut [https://img.wattpad.com/604c9b6c53812cf56ee03e54700d45cc9a8c1933/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f533564744366526445424b3344513d3d2d313336303736313631392e313737316261613736333363636263653338323739343830363532392e6a7067?s=fit&w=1280&h=1280]

As Nyx was going, she noticed a softly illuminated door that should have remained firmly shut. It was the door forbidden to her by Dr. Jenkins, Nyx wondered what Dr. Jenkins could possibly be doing at this late hour. Just as her thoughts began to unravel, a figure emerged from the door, quickly turning to lock it. It was not Dr. Jenkins, but it was Ann.

Ann was startled by Nyx's presence, her expression shifted with a mixture of surprise and caution. She swiftly moved towards Nyx and firmly placed her hands on Nyx's shoulders.

"Nyx," she whispered, her voice low and stern, "Don't tell anyone that I've entered the room."

Nyx felt nervous as she pondered the implications of Ann's clandestine activities. "I... I won't tell," Nyx finally replied, her voice filled with uncertainty. "But... may I ask what you were doing?"

"Do not speak of it, nor entertain thoughts of it," Ann retorted, a hint of anger surfacing. "Why are you even awake at such an hour?"

Nyx considered confiding in Ann about her visits to Seraphina's grave. "I have been paying visits to Seraphina's resting place," she admitted. "I want to know whether Thomas is her son or not."

Ann fixed her gaze upon Nyx, her silence pregnant with meaning before she turned away and went away.

Confusion clouded Nyx's thoughts as she pondered the contents of the room and Ann's clandestine actions. A sense of fear began to creep within her. Should she reveal the truth to her Aunt Penelope? But could she truly trust her aunt? Nyx found herself torn between conflicting loyalties and an overwhelming sense of unease.