As dawn approached, the Sinclair mansion was a scene of post-party chaos. The remnants of the extravagant birthday celebration painted a vivid picture of the festivities that had transpired the night before. Empty glasses adorned every available surface, evidence of the copious amounts of wine and champagne that had flowed freely. Plates, some licked clean and others half-eaten, were scattered across the dining table, interspersed with crumbs and traces of the delectable cake that had been the centerpiece of the celebration.
The once-immaculate living room now bore the marks of merriment. Confetti and streamers adorned the floor, intermingled with discarded party favors and small trinkets. A stray balloon floated lazily near the ceiling, a remnant of the vibrant decorations that had filled the room. Chairs were haphazardly positioned, and cushions were askew from the animated conversations and laughter that had echoed through the night.
