Below, a few of the bodies shifted, waiting. Kant made no effort to fill the quiet, and Margot realized she might be expected to give some kind of speech, something introducing herself, and she had no idea what she was supposed to say.

Then a woman pushed through the group, arms outstretched, calling, “Of course! Margot!” and Margot could have kissed her.

Margot stumbled down the three steps to meet her halfway, and the woman grasped her by the forearms, a broad smile showing her teeth and part of the gums above. Thick, brown hair was tied in a braid that ran halfway down her back. “Nora,” she said by way of introduction, “and Ray.”

Belatedly, she realized a man had followed, stacks of papers still clinched under one arm. He thrust out a hand, which Margot quickly shook. They were familiar, she realized. She’d seen them at the wake, standing behind the table laden with wine bottles as they poured drinks for the guests.

“We run the retail store.” Nora leaned back against her husband, who towered over her by at least a foot and a half. “I’m not sure if you saw it. Down the lane a little way, closer to the main road.”

“Of course! The building with the barrels out front? I didn’t get to see inside, but it looked lovely.”

Nora seemed pleased by that, her smile growing broader. “I hope you’ll stop by some time when you get the chance. Ray and I are always up for a chat. Plus, as many free samples as you’d like. Though I suppose you’ll have no shortage of wine now that you live here.”

“It’s…a lot bigger than I expected,” Margot said, gazing about the room again.

“The place isn’t always this busy.” Ray’s voice was easy and warm. “But this is the hub. We call it the fermentation station.”

“No one calls it that,” Kant said.

Ray shrugged mildly.

“It’s where the mixing is done,” Nora said. “Happens once a year, after the grapes are brought in. Afterward, it’s all moved to the lower levels to mature. Kant asked us all to be here to welcome you. That’s why it’s such a crowd.”

“Oh.” This time, Margot’s smile felt more genuine. Nora’s words had flipped something in her. She was being sized up, yes, but so were the employees. Their clothes were casual but clean and clearly picked with care. Hair was combed, boots scrubbed. Many of them held stacks of papers: reports and documentation, in case Margot asked to see them.

They were trying to make the best first impression they could. Just like Margot.