A reply came back faster than she had expected: Don't know, what's up?
Emma Smith quickly edited the message, but in the moment before she sent it, her cell phone was suddenly snatched away by Samuel Richardson.
"Sending this to Ivy Thompson?"
Emma Smith was taken aback, a hint of panic flashing in her eyes.
Samuel Richardson played with the phone, his sharp eyes firmly locked on her face: "This matter has not been confirmed yet. If Phoebe Belmont was lying, what you sent to Ivy Thompson would be fake news."
Emma Smith closed her lips and remained silent. Samuel Richardson handed the phone back to her with a playful smile: "Confirm it with Phoebe Belmont tomorrow before telling her. Don't worry, I dare not oppose her now. I'm more than happy for you to carry out such credit-seeking actions."
She had never thought of seeking credit through such matters.
Samuel Richardson's words had left a bitter taste in Emma Smith's mouth.
