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

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

to take care of Kate

the ring handed down by his father, Eddie found Terrace Street, where a

Moon Hall was through inquiries and investigations-it was where his

grandfather's opposition, he had taken his mother and

shame for Moon Hall

unassuming. She would hum tunes

with a smile, and before it came

would always say that

her humble background. On the contrary, he saw her

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

deep breath and lifted his head again, his fair and handsome face now bearing a hint of relief. "Yes, my father is called Willie

the words fell, Leandro's eyes

at the young man before him in a daze, seeing a resemblance to his own

made his way over, his elderly

He seemed somewhat lost.

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

"Yes."

father? How's he

He was eager to hear

out a cold laugh, and a

of the Zamora family,

"I...,"

"He's dead."

"What... what?"

Dead?

had just heard. For so many years, due to his own pride and prejudice, he had refused to swallow his

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

When he finally heard the news,

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