Mrs. Foster beamed with delight as Vanessa complimented her, "Do you really think I look that young?"
Vanessa playfully rolled her eyes, "I'm twenty-three, and you look only three or four years older than me. You can't be over thirty, right? It's such a shame you got married so early."
Vanessa's words only made Mrs. Foster's smile grow wider. "You're just flattering me," she said.
"I'm not flattering, I'm stating the facts," Vanessa insisted.
Mrs. Foster looked at Vanessa seriously. "Vanessa, there's something I've never told you."
"What is it?" Vanessa had a sneaking suspicion but feigned innocence.
"Actually, I'm already forty-eight," Mrs. Foster confessed.
Vanessa's eyes widened in disbelief. "Come on, if you're forty-eight, then I must be fifty-eight."
"I'm serious. I really am forty-eight," Mrs. Foster replied earnestly.
"Really?" Vanessa was still skeptical.
"Really," Mrs. Foster affirmed, her gaze probing. "Would you still want to be friends with someone my age?"
After the initial surprise, Vanessa wrapped her arms around Mrs. Foster's. "Of course I would! But you have to share your secret to looking so young. If I look like you at your age, I'd be over the moon."
Under Vanessa's sweet words, Mrs. Foster was utterly charmed.
Vanessa chuckled inwardly; getting people to like her was second nature.
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