By the time dusk settled over the Burnett estate, the east lawn shimmered like something enchanted. Lanterns swayed gently from the high oak branches, casting gold light onto silk-covered tables. Fairy lights twinkled between the rose arches and glowed softly behind sheer ivory curtains. Everything moved like breath — subtle, coordinated, timeless.

Staff dressed in crisp black and white moved like water, clearing empty glasses and replacing plates with delicate hors d’oeuvres. A quartet played from a low platform near the fountain, their music weaving seamlessly into the hum of conversation and clinking silver.

Then the music shifted.

A quiet roll of strings. A pause in chatter. The gentle sound...