Ethan's words should have brought comfort and hope to Michael, but when the latter recalled the words from the phone call of yesterday, he only felt so cold that his hand which brought the glass of whiskey at his lips froze.
Being thrown under the bus was also a way of making a splash, was it not? And with the time having yet to come, was it for the preparations to be done better first?
Michael Harsh suppressed a tremor inside, and forced his lips open to take a bit of the hot liquor from his glass, both to hide his reaction and to help his body relax, to force it to relax. Then he raised his head, a bright expression on his face as he laughed:
"Hahaha… Then I will wait for your good news, Ethan."
"Hahaha… Don't worry. Soon, soon… I won't make you wait for long. Hahaha…"