The sun had barely sunk below the horizon when guests began streaming through the gates of the Granet mansion. The evening air buzzed with laughter, clinking glasses, and familiar voices echoing in the hall.
Margaret was in her element. She moved through the room like a seasoned hostess, her smile broad, her eyes lit up with joy. She seemed full of life as she chatted with old friends and relatives.
"Margaret, you haven't changed a bit," one woman said, holding her hands. "Still absolutely stunning."
Margaret chuckled, brushing off the compliment. "You are too kind," she said, though the sparkle in her eyes said she didn't mind hearing it.
"And where is your daughter?" someone else chimed in eagerly. "We have been dying to meet her. She must be as elegant and beautiful as you."
"She is almost ready," Margaret replied. "She'll be here soon. But for now, enjoy the drinks." She motioned to a nearby waiter, who stepped in with a silver tray of champagne flutes and cocktails.
