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."
first time Eddie had
words, his father embraced his deceased mother and forever departed
requests: to take care of Kate and
ring handed down by his father, Eddie found Terrace Street, where
finally learned what Moon Hall was through inquiries and investigations-it was
opposition, he had taken his
pride and deepest shame for
his mother was elegant and gentle, tolerant and unassuming. She would hum tunes as she prepared breakfast
to scold them, his mother always intervened with a smile, and before
that their mother spoiled
to her humble background. On the contrary, he saw her as a
to know was whether his so-called "grandfather" had ever regretted
took a deep breath and lifted his head again, his fair and handsome face now bearing a hint of relief. "Yes, my father is called Willie Zamora, and my mother
Leandro's eyes
young man before him in a daze, seeing a resemblance to his own unfilial son
his way over, his
He seemed somewhat lost.
"Y-you're called Eddie, right?"
"Yes."
your father? How's he
question, Leandro's heart suddenly tightened. He was eager to hear the
a hint of
drove him out of the Zamora family, why ask
"I...,"
"He's dead."
"What... what?"
Dead?
For so many years, due to his own pride and prejudice, he had refused to swallow his pride, but waited for his
to have such integrity, leaving Onistead with
finally heard the news, it was
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