This guy's words were toxic!
Claire Sinclair felt like she'd just been lectured. She mumbled timidly, "So if I don't go, it means I have no ambition..."
"Haha, there's hope for you yet!"
"Well, alright. I'll go. When is it?"
"It starts this Friday at seven p.m. It'll be broadcast live online, and there will be celebrity guests. You'll have to wear an evening gown again," Henry Hartwell said, beaming.
"..."
'I have a feeling I've been tricked.'
"Teacher Hartwell, will you be going with me?"
"I wouldn't have accepted this gig for you if I wasn't planning on going too. I'll be there, don't worry."
"That's great!" Knowing she'd have company, Claire Sinclair felt much more at ease.
Henry Hartwell suddenly picked up a stack of files. "This is your work for the week. I've already given you the materials. Go back and write three articles for three different media. You have free rein, but they must meet the paper's standards."
