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

words, his father embraced his

take care of Kate and to return

Street, where a master accepted him

was through inquiries and investigations-it was where his father had grown

opposition, he had taken his

and deepest shame for Moon

and gentle, tolerant and unassuming. She would hum tunes as she prepared breakfast for him and Kate

wanted to scold them, his mother always intervened with a

say that their

looked down on his mother due to her humble background. On the contrary, he saw her as

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

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

words fell, Leandro's eyes grew slightly

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

hesitantly made his way over, his elderly hand

He seemed somewhat lost.

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

"Yes."

your father? How's

asked that question, Leandro's heart suddenly tightened. He was eager to

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

him out of the Zamora

"I...,"

"He's dead."

"What... what?"

Dead?

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 admitted his fault, Leandro

never expected his son to have such integrity, leaving Onistead with that woman. And after

heard the news, it was already too

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