Chapter 146
The lab remained busy even in June.
Sophia Sullivan had worked for two consecutive weeks.
She finally had a day off.
She woke up early that morning.
She fed the goldfish in the tank.
Her phone suddenly rang.
It was a call from her father, David Sullivan.
"Are you up, sweetie?"
"Yes, just got up."
"Why not sleep more? Isn't today your day off?"
"My body clock is set. Where's Mom?"
"In the study."
"Writing again?"
"Yes, her inspiration is strongest in the morning."
Sophia remembered the copyright contract.
Her expression darkened slightly.
"Dad, has Mom's editor contacted her recently?"
"No, why? They usually communicate online."
"Nothing, just asking."
After hanging up.
Sophia went to the kitchen to prepare breakfast.
David went to the backyard to tend his plants.
Isabella Sullivan sat at her computer in the study.
She typed intently.
Words flowed from her fingertips.
Weaving into thrilling tales.
Everything was peaceful and perfect.
Unaware that near the faculty housing complex.
Outside their old home.
A woman in a Chanel suit was pounding on the door.
"Isabella! Are you home?"
Editor Moore carried a brown Delvaux handbag.
Her high heels sank into the dirt.
Her face was full of impatience.
What a dump!
Worse than a doghouse!
If Isabella's contract wasn't about to expire.
She wouldn't have come personally.
They could have renewed online.
But after their last argument.
Isabella had blocked all her contacts.
Editor Moore scoffed.
They'd had plenty of fights over the years.
Isabella always caved first.
Asking her to write web novels this time.
Probably crossed a line.
That's why it was taking so long.
But Editor Moore was confident.
Isabella would eventually give in.
It was only a matter of time.
"Isabella! I know you're in there!"
"Open the door!"
"This is ridiculous! A guest came all this way!"
"Work disagreements are one thing!"
"Have you no basic manners?"
"Isabella! Keep this up and I'll drop your books!"
Editor Moore grew more frantic.
She started slamming the door.
Her hands turned red.
There was still no response from inside.
"Who's making all that noise so early? Death calling?"
A woman in pajamas rushed out next door.
Her hair was a mess.
Her face full of sleep-induced anger.
She stood hands on hips in her yard.
Glaring at Editor Moore through the iron railings.
"Who are you staring at? I'm talking to you!"
"Making a racket this early! Can't you let people sleep?"
"Dressed all fancy but no sense of decency!"
Editor Moore hadn't been yelled at like this in years.
She was momentarily stunned.
The woman continued her tirade.
"Trash attracts flies!"
"One after another, so damn annoying!"
"Watch your mouth!"
Editor Moore snapped back to reality.
"All that cursing! Hope your tongue rots!"
"You're the one bringing bad news! On your whole family!"
Linda Moore hated being cursed at.
She flew into a rage.
"You old hag! You bitch! Who are you calling 'big sister'?"
"Your big sister works at a brothel, doesn't she?"
Her scornful eyes raked over Editor Moore from head to toe.
"Hah! Dressed like no decent woman!"
"All flashy! How many men did you service last night?"
Editor Moore was shocked.
She hadn't expected such filthy language.
It was all personal attacks.
"You—you—" She trembled with anger.
Even if she wanted to retaliate.
She couldn't bring herself to say such things.
"Me, me, me, what about me?"
"Tongue tied? Can't form words?"
"Should give a discount for overnight? Fifty? Seventy?"
"Are you even worth a hundred?"
Editor Moore's face flushed red.
"I won't reason with a shrew like you!"
"Absolutely ridiculous! Unreasonable! Disgusting!"
"Ooh! Using big words? I can too!"
"Floozy! Shameless! Whore! Slut!"
Editor Moore was speechless.
"I won't stoop to your level! It's beneath me!"
"Someone like you only deserves to be compared to pigs and dogs!"
She turned to leave.
"Hah— Pigs and dogs are better than a slut like you!"
Editor Moore stumbled.
Her high heel sank into a mud puddle.
Ruining her thousand-dollar shoes.
Her mood worsened.
What a terrible neighborhood Isabella lived in.
With such awful neighbors.
Today was truly cursed.
The contract expired in half a month.
Isabella wouldn't dare not renew.
The publishing industry had undergone major changes.
Physical book sales were struggling.
Isabella's fame had long faded.
She'd been offline for years.
She had no publishing connections.
Besides her.
Who would still want to be her editor?
Help her publish books?
This trip was completely unnecessary.
Once the contract expired.
Isabella would come begging to renew.
The more Editor Moore thought, the more she felt coming today was a mistake.
Not only was she ignored.
But also cursed at by a madwoman.
Hmph! She'd blame this on Isabella!
When she came begging.
She'd make her grovel.
Just to vent today's anger!
"Mrs. Moore, arguing again?"
A passing neighbor joked.
"Didn't the Sullivan family move away?"
"Hmph! Some random trashy relative!"
"Pounding on the door so early! Woke me up!"
"The Sullivans' relative? Shouldn't they be at the villa?"
"Why come here?"
Linda Moore rolled her eyes.
"Who knows?"
"Speaking of which, have you been to the Sullivans' villa?"
"Wow! So impressive! Multiple floors with two gardens!"
"We visited the other day! The flowers were gorgeous!"
"The vegetables in the garden were so green…"
Linda Moore's expression grew uglier the more she listened.
"I'm going back to sleep."
She made an excuse and returned inside.
After some thought, she dug out a business card.
Hesitated, then dialed the number.
"Hello, Mr. Semona!"
"You said you could help me sell my house for a better one?"
"How does it work exactly?"
His eyes lit up on the other end.
"Auntie, let me explain! We can do it like this…"
He had just received insider information.
The faculty housing complex was slated for demolition.
The compensation policy was quite generous.