Today, early in the morning, the mansion was alive with a palpable sense of excitement. It was Zyra's 18th birthday tomorrow, a milestone that everyone was eager to celebrate in grand style. The house buzzed with activity, a hive of bustling relatives and lively chatter as plans were made and tasks were assigned.
In the large kitchen, the heart of the mansion, various family members gathered around the long oak table. My aunts were deep in conversation, debating the menu and decoration themes, their voices overlapping in a harmonious yet chaotic symphony. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingled with the scent of breakfast pastries, making the air warm and inviting.
"Alright, so we need to finalize the menu," Aunt Taffy said, her brow furrowed in concentration. "I was thinking of a mix
