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."

time Eddie had

his father embraced his

requests: to take care of Kate and to return

down by his father, Eddie found Terrace Street, where a master

Moon Hall was

had taken his mother and

was the greatest source of pride and deepest shame for Moon Hall because he had married

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

father wanted to scold them, his mother always intervened with a smile, and

say that their

his mother due to her humble

so-called "grandfather"

now bearing a

fell, Leandro's eyes grew slightly

a resemblance to

hesitantly made his way over, his elderly hand stopping in

He seemed somewhat lost.

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

"Yes."

father? How's he

suddenly tightened. He was eager to hear the answer, yet afraid of

a hint of resentment and disdain crept

drove him out of the Zamora family, why

"I...,"

"He's dead."

"What... what?"

Dead?

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

son to have such integrity, leaving Onistead with

came. When he finally heard the news, it was already too

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