One fine morning, as the first rays of dawn broke through the curtains of the Volta mansion, Alice descended the grand staircase and made her way to the breakfast table. Her heart was heavy with a sense of isolation that had become all too familiar in recent weeks. She had grown accustomed to the chill that hung in the air, but today it felt even colder.
As she entered the dining room, the sight that greeted her was disheartening. Beatrice and Emily were already seated at the table, engrossed in conversation with Charles. They spoke animatedly, their laughter filling the room, and their eyes sparkled with an intimacy that made Alice feel like an outsider.
Alice hesitated for a moment at the threshold, hoping for a warm greeting or even a nod of acknowledgment, but it was not to be. Beatrice continued to chat with her husband and daughter as if Alice were merely a passing shadow.
With a heavy heart, Alice took a seat at the far end of the table, where she felt invisible and insignificant. Her untouched plate of food sat before her as if mocking her solitude. She watched as Emily and Beatrice exchanged affectionate glances and whispered secrets and a pang of longing swept through her.
Beatrice had been thoroughly poisoned by the malicious thoughts regarding Alice's birth. She now viewed Alice as an interloper in her carefully constructed plan to merge the Volta and Hanks fortunes. Charles, too, had succumbed to doubt and suspicion. He could no longer look at Alice without questioning whether she was truly his flesh and blood.
In the days that followed, the Volta mansion became a place of tension and neglect. Alice's father, once a source of comfort and love, withdrew from her life. His eyes once filled with warmth, now bore a distant and vacant look whenever he glanced in her direction.
Alice turned to Mary, her faithful maid and confidante, for solace. Mary had been the one constant presence in her life, the one who had cared for her when no one else would. Together, they sought to uncover the truth about Alice's mysterious heritage, hoping that it would dispel the cloud of suspicion that had descended upon her.
As Alice navigated the treacherous waters of her newfound isolation, she found solace in the world of books, spending her days immersed in the written word. Her room, tucked away in the west wing of their sprawling mansion, became a sanctuary of knowledge and wonder.
Amidst the pages of books written about folklores, she uncovered secrets that had nothing to do with the bloodline of the family but rather the bloodline of the supernatural. When she needed a break from her studies, she would gaze out of her window onto the breathtaking garden below, where a riot of roses and other vibrant flowers swayed in the gentle breeze. It was a view that offered her both tranquillity and inspiration, a reminder that beauty and magic could be found not only in books but also in the world that surrounded her.
On the other hand, Beatrice's growing unease about Alice's true origins had become an obsession she could not shake. Her inquiry into Charles's family and his late wife's lineage had yielded no evidence of the supernatural. Charles had staunchly vouched for Daisy's family, asserting that their wealth and success had been built solely on legitimate endeavors. Yet, Beatrice remained convinced that there was more to the story than met the eye.
Unable to quell her suspicions, Beatrice decided to take matters into her own hands. She discreetly approached the family's loyal servant, Mr. Thorne, a man who had served Beatrice’s family for decades and knew their secrets better than anyone else as he investigated Voltas and Charles’s late wife’s family. Beatrice was well aware that if anyone could uncover the truth, it would be him since with his and her father’s decision she decided to be involved in this.
"Mr. Thorne," she whispered, her voice barely audible, "I need you to investigate Alice's true origin. Find out if there is any connection to the supernatural or any hidden secrets that the Voltas have kept from me."
Mr. Thorne, loyal to his mistress but concerned about the direction her obsession was taking, nodded reluctantly. He began to delve into the family's records, searching for any clues that might shed light on Alice's mysterious birth.
Days turned into weeks as Mr. Thorne meticulously combed through dusty archives, family documents, and the remnants of generations past. He found nothing that directly implicated Alice or her family in the world of the supernatural.
However, one evening, as Mr. Thorne was recounting his findings to Beatrice, he mentioned a peculiar detail that sent shivers down her spine. "I couldn't find any concrete evidence, madam," he admitted, "but there is one intriguing coincidence. It appears that Daisy, Alice's mother, gave birth to her at the very same time as the infamous Salem Witch Trials and other supernatural executions were taking place."
Beatrice's eyes widened at this revelation. The Salem Witch Trials had been a dark chapter in history at that time. The timing of Alice's birth, coupled with the historical context, was too much of a coincidence to be ignored. With newfound determination, Beatrice decided to delve deeper into the history of Salem and its connection to her stepdaughter. She was convinced that the key to unlocking Alice's true identity.
As the clandestine investigation into Alice's mysterious origins had become a web of secrets and intrigue that threatened to ensnare the entire Volta household. As Mr. Thorne diligently pursued his mission, he unwittingly caught the attention of Mary, the loyal maid who had stood by Alice's side through thick and thin.
One fateful afternoon, Mary noticed Mr. Thorne slipping into Charles's personal room, a place where important documents and family heirlooms were kept under lock and key. Suspicion gnawed at her, and she decided to follow him, guided by her unwavering loyalty to her young mistress.
Inside the dimly lit room, Mary watched in silence as Mr. Thorne rifled through Charles's personal papers and secret files. It was a risky venture, one that could cost him his position if he were discovered. But Mary could not allow her master's privacy to be invaded without just cause
Once Mr. Thorne had copied the information from the documents he sought, he made his way to leave the room, unaware that Mary had been a silent witness to his actions. She swiftly retreated, her heart pounding, and raced to find Charles to inform him of the intrusion.
When she finally located Charles, she hesitated for a moment, conflicted about the best way to reveal Mr. Thorne's actions. But her devotion to Alice and her growing concern for the turmoil that had engulfed their household gave her the courage to speak up.
"Master Charles," Mary began, her voice quivering with apprehension, "I saw Mr. Thorne in your personal room, going through your documents. I don't know what he was looking for, but I thought you should know."
Charles's brow furrowed with worry and disbelief. He trusted Mr. Thorne implicitly, and the revelation shocked him to his core. Without wasting a moment, he confronted him and demanded an explanation for his actions.
In the dimly lit hallway, Charles confronted Mr. Thorne, his voice firm but tinged with hurt. "Mr. Thorne, what were you doing in my personal room?" he inquired.
Mr. Thorne, knowing that he had been caught, hesitated for a moment before he spoke. "Forgive me, Master Charles, but Miss Beatrice requested that I investigate Alice's origin and the reasons behind her seclusion in the mansion. She suspects that Alice may not be your child."
Charles's heart sank at the revelation. His trust in his wife had wavered in recent days, but to hear that she had gone to such lengths to question Alice's parentage was a painful blow. He had hoped that their family would find a way to heal and come together, but instead, the rift between them had grown deeper.
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