Jane McCain's face looked extremely grim.
In front of everyone, she didn't want to argue with Juliet Stewart, and answered coldly, "Fiona Lake asked me to send this over quickly, saying it's a very important piece of evidence."
"Fiona Lake?" Juliet Stewart was taken aback, her gaze falling on the soft rubber mask in Jane McCain's hand, "Why didn't she go herself?"
"She twisted her ankle and can't walk."
"Can't walk so she let you go? What was Fiona Lake thinking? You don't even know the way! Such nonsense!" Juliet Stewart snatched the mask and directly sat on a three-wheeled motorcycle taxi, "I'll take it to Mr. Rivera, you don't need to bother!"
Jane McCain sarcastically retorted, "I never wanted to bother, but some people are busy writing self-criticisms, leaving this outsider to lend a helping hand!"
Juliet Stewart's expression froze slightly, and a hint of resentment appeared in her eyes. She stopped looking at Jane McCain, urging the motorcycle taxi driver to drive faster.
