She Became Rich After Divorce by Georgina Lane

Chapter 602: He's Dead Eight Years Ago

Even Abel hadn't expected the connection between the two.

He turned around to carefully assess the upright and gentle young man behind him, finding a resemblance to an old acquaintance.

"Is your father really Willie?"

Eddie clenched his fists hidden in his sleeves, his thoughts drifting back to a time long ago when his father had held his hand and led him into the courtyard. Pointing to the medicinal herbs on the wooden rack, he had explained the names and uses of each one to Eddie.

"Eddie, take a look. This is called Plantago, with a sweet taste and a cold nature."

"Dad, can this herb be consumed?"

"Of course, Plantago has diuretic, cooling, antitussive, and expectorant effects."

"I see. Is it because Sister has been feeling a bit unwell recently that we needed to find it?"

"Yes, Eddie, you're truly clever."

The memories scattered, and in the blink of an eye, they transformed into the tragic scene of a car accident, with his mother no longer breathing.

His father, covered in blood, lay on the ground, barely clinging to life as he grasped Eddie's hand, exerting all his strength to utter his final words.

"Eddie, your mother and I won't be here anymore. You must take care of your sister."

"Okay."

"And...take this, go to Terrace Street, find... Mr. Jonathan Owen."

"Dad, please don't leave us."

"Eddie, the only regret I have is I may never be able to return to Moon Hall, Onistead in my lifetime."

the first time

uttering these last words, his father embraced his deceased mother and forever

his father's two requests: to take care of Kate and

down by his father, Eddie found Terrace Street, where

finally learned what Moon Hall was through inquiries and investigations-it was where his father had

to his grandfather's opposition, he had

shame for Moon Hall because he had married a

Eddie's memories, his mother was elegant and gentle, tolerant and unassuming. She would hum tunes as she prepared

to scold them, his mother always intervened with a smile, and before it came to

would always say that their mother spoiled

to her humble background. On the contrary,

know was whether his so-called "grandfather" had ever regretted

fair and handsome face now bearing a hint of relief. "Yes, my father is called Willie Zamora, and my mother

Leandro's

man before him in a daze, seeing a resemblance to his

hesitantly made his way over, his elderly

He seemed somewhat lost.

"Y-you're called Eddie, right?"

"Yes."

father? How's he

was eager to hear the answer, yet afraid of

out a cold laugh, and a hint of resentment and disdain crept into his

of the Zamora family,

"I...,"

"He's dead."

"What... what?"

Dead?

heard. For so many years, due to his own pride and prejudice, he had refused to swallow his pride, but waited for his son to return and apologize. As long as he

his son to have such integrity, leaving Onistead with that woman. And after that,

him came. When he finally heard the news, it