"What did I just say?"
Nia Mitchell was slightly puzzled, blinking her eyes.
"I mean... are you okay?"
"The sentence before."
"Uncle, are you dismantling the kitchen?"
"The sentence before."
He still had no expression, no hint of any emotion, but she still felt something was off about him.
"Uncle, what's wrong with you? Did I say something wrong?"
Nia Mitchell was puzzled, pouting her lips.
She didn't want to talk about this anymore; guessing was the most annoying thing. She couldn't guess at all.
"Hurry up!"
Maxwell Peary frowned, a little anxious.
Nia pouted her lips. Seeing him so anxious, she also grew a little anxious.
Becoming so anxious, her mind went blank, and she couldn't recall a thing.
"I... I don't know!"
Nia Mitchell was so anxious she was about to stomp her feet, hardly able to remember what she had just said.
"..."
Maxwell Peary was somewhat frustrated, his face growing even grimmer.
