Celeste Grant felt like a mere spectator. She was happy to see her country growing stronger and developing steadily.
But it was time for her to leave.
More than a year had passed since Celeste Grant had come to this world.
Her son was now sixteen years old and had shot up in height, nearly catching up to his own father.
When the father and son went out together, anyone who didn't know them would assume they were brothers. No one would guess they were father and son.
That afternoon, Celeste Grant called her son and Javier Sinclair for a family meeting. The housekeeper, Nana, was also present.
"Mom, you called for me?"
"My lady, you called for me."
The father and son both looked at her, ready to receive their orders. It was true; in this household, both father and son deferred to her, so her status in the family was unquestionable.
