With that thought, she spoke up, "No, no... I don't know you anymore. Miss, you should listen to what you're saying. I think you need to see a psychiatrist."
As she spoke, she scrambled to her feet, pulled out her phone, and started making a call.
Celeste Grant looked at her.
"Nana, what are you doing? You think I'm crazy?" she asked, pointing at herself.
At that moment, Nana looked at her, at a loss for what to say.
She didn't say anything, but inside, she was already screaming.
'Isn't it obvious? She's started talking complete nonsense.'
'And she's saying she has a fifteen-year-old son? This is clearly a sign of a mental problem. A very serious one.'
'Celeste Grant is my boss! My Miss! She's the one who butters my bread! My future life of luxury depends on her.'
'Oh, Miss, please don't let anything happen to you. Otherwise, what's this old servant supposed to do?!'
