I Married the President-Chapter 121: No Such Person
Although Faye Dean had lived in Meridia for a few years, she still had a deeply patriotic heart. She felt an instinctive kinship whenever she met a fellow countryman in a foreign land.
If he was from Aridia, there was no harm in helping him.
Thinking of this, Faye Dean took out her phone and snapped a photo of his face.
As she was about to send it, her eyes were drawn to the man in the picture.
The man had messy hair and a stubbled chin. His deep-set features were quite handsome, giving him an unexpectedly melancholy air.
’Clean him up a bit, and he’d probably be a handsome guy...’
’Tsk, tsk. This guy is amazing. In person, you couldn’t really tell how good-looking he was, but in the photo, he looked like a completely different person.’
As Faye Dean marveled at this, she sent the photo to Claire Sinclair on WeChat.
Faye Dean: Claire, use your "golden finger" and help me find out who this is. He says his name is Frank Morgan. If he’s a good person, I’ll help him. If not, I’m taking him to the police station.
The so-called "golden finger" was Claire’s hacking ability.
Ever since that girl Claire first touched a computer, she had shown an extraordinary talent. She casually picked up a few books and taught herself, managing to grasp computer knowledge that ordinary people could never master.
But hacking wasn’t exactly a respectable skill, so it was a secret only the two of them shared. And Faye Dean deserved some credit for Claire’s skills today.
With Claire’s timid personality, she wouldn’t even dare use her skills to locate the celebrity she had a crush on back in the day, let alone do anything bad. It was all thanks to her best friend egging her on to put her knowledge to practical use...
After a long wait, a reply came from Claire Sinclair: "Give me a few minutes."
Faye Dean sent an okay and waited patiently.
Claire Sinclair went back to her room, took out her laptop, and transferred the photo to it. Her ten slender fingers flew across the keyboard.
A few minutes later, the result came back—just three words: No record found.
Usually, a "no record found" result pointed to only two possibilities: one, a spy, or two, a member of a secret organization.
’These kinds of people are as dangerous as assassins...’
Claire Sinclair immediately replied on WeChat: "Faye, I can’t find any information on him. His data is protected."
Faye Dean: No way. So you’re saying he’s really a spy?
Claire: I’m not sure if he is, but if he insists on crashing at your place, you should go stay with a relative for a few days. Whatever you do, don’t be alone with him.
Faye Dean: What relatives? I don’t have any here. Maybe I should just go back to Aridia!
’What a great idea!’
Claire Sinclair replied: "That’s a good idea. Hurry back!"
Faye Dean: That won’t work either. I haven’t sorted out the paperwork. I’ll just go stay in a hotel for now.
Claire: Okay, be careful. And stay in touch.
Faye Dean acknowledged and didn’t say anything more.
Claire Sinclair let out a soft sigh of relief and put her phone away, hoping Faye would be alright.
...
The weekend flew by, and soon it was time for work again.
Claire Sinclair arrived at the news agency on time. As soon as she entered the office, she saw a busy figure—
None of the other colleagues had arrived yet. Only Phoebe Lockwood was there, mop in hand, repeatedly cleaning the already spotless floor. After mopping, she wasn’t done. She grabbed a clean cloth and started wiping down the desks, flitting from one to the next like a busy little bee.
When she saw Claire Sinclair, Phoebe Lockwood acted as if she hadn’t seen her, as usual. She kept to herself and completely ignored her.
Claire Sinclair raised an eyebrow. The cleaning lady came every day to sweep the floors and wipe the desks at the agency. What was Phoebe Lockwood doing?
’Hmm... Isn’t this a bit redundant?’
