Chapter 126: Phoebe Ward's Lips Curved Slightly

Phoebe Ward's lips curved slightly. "Fine, I'll browse around some more."

She turned to Helen Whitmore. "Think about my proposal. We've worked together for so many years."

Helen lowered her head without responding.

Clara Whitmore pushed the shopping cart away with her mother.

"Mom, did you sign a ten-year contract with Phoebe?"

"Yes."

"This is the final year, right?"

Helen counted on her fingers. "You're right."

"What do you think of her?"

Helen hesitated. "...She's professionally competent."

Clara chuckled lightly. "Do you still have the contract?"

"Of course. Why?"

"Can I take a look tonight?"

Helen looked puzzled. "What for?"

"Just curious. Is that not allowed?"

"Of course you can! You can see anything of mine!"

Clara grinned. "You're the best, Mom! By the way, can you send me all the novels you've written these years too?"

Helen looked even more surprised. "They're just practice drafts. Nothing worth reading."

"Having a writer mom suddenly seems cool! If anyone asks, I can talk about it. Otherwise they'll think I'm bragging!"

As a child, Clara had always begged to read Helen's famous works The Weapon and The Deserted School.

But Helen always refused with excuses like "too violent," "not for children," or "wait until you're an adult."

By the time Clara actually turned eighteen, she'd lost interest.

It wasn't until her lonely married days that she finally opened her mother's books.

She had to admit—Helen was a suspense genius!

The plots were intricately woven, the logic flawless, and the twists absolutely breathtaking.

No wonder these two books still topped bestseller lists.

Yet in the past decade, Helen hadn't published any new suspense novels. Though curious, Clara had never pressed the matter.

Until today's encounter with that editor.

What publishing house editor wears a full designer ensemble and carries a rare leather handbag?

What kind of publishing house had that kind of money?

And why had she never heard of it?