Chapter 497: Helen Whitmore Suddenly Stopped at the Street Corner

Helen Whitmore suddenly stopped at the street corner, her gaze falling on an unassuming old-fashioned pastry shop.

"I want sweet bean cakes," she murmured softly.

Clara Whitmore followed her mother's line of sight. The shop's facade was worn, its sign faded, even the glass display window coated with a thin layer of dust. Only by approaching the counter could one make out the blurred handwriting on the menu.

Mung bean cakes topped the list.

"Mom, how did you know they sell sweet bean cakes here?" Clara asked curiously.

Helen frowned slightly. "I just had a feeling they would. And that they'd taste good."

Daniel Whitmore caught up with them, chuckling. "Your mother has a nose sharper than a bloodhound. She can sniff out quality from a mile away."

Connor Hayes's voice suddenly came from behind them. "What a coincidence. I'm here for sweet bean cakes too."

"Who are they for?" Clara turned to face him.

"My grandmother." Connor gestured toward a nearby teahouse. "She got tired from walking and is resting there."

Clara's eyes lit up. "Your grandmother is here? She missed me at the bookstore signing last time. This is perfect—I can finally meet her."

While queuing, Clara deliberately ordered two portions of sweet bean cakes and handed one to Connor.

"How much do I owe you?" Connor pulled out his phone.

"Don't worry about it. It's my treat for your grandmother." Clara blinked playfully. "You didn't hesitate when you bought me water last time."

A faint smile tugged at Connor's lips.

Inside the teahouse, Marian Davenport leaned against the window with her eyes closed. At the sound of approaching footsteps, she slowly opened them.

"Grandmother, this is Clara," Connor introduced gently. "She brought you sweet bean cakes."

The elderly woman's face brightened. "Oh my, I can't possibly let such a sweet girl spend her money on me..."

Clara quickly explained, "I was already in line, so it was no trouble at all."

Marian reached out to take Clara's hand, then hesitated. "Child... may I touch your face? My eyes aren't what they used to be. I'd like to know what you look like..."

Clara's heart softened. Just as she was about to agree, Daniel's voice suddenly called from upstairs. "Clara!"

Everyone looked up. Daniel stood by the second-floor railing, waving. Beside him, Helen was already descending the stairs at a brisk pace.

"Those are my parents," Clara told the elderly couple. "They're coming over now—perfect timing for introductions."

As Helen drew nearer, Clara noticed her mother's face had turned unnaturally pale.