He Hated Me Until He Learned I Was Dead

In the eighth year after I passed away, Leander Kingsmere ran into his son, who was setting up a small stand beneath an overpass.

Thick snow was swirling everywhere. My son’s little face was frozen bright red, and both hands were covered with frost sores.

He was angry. He grabbed Cassian and roughly wiped the snow from his body.

“Where is your mom? Letting you stand out here freezing in this cold, where did she go to enjoy herself? I have never seen such a careless mother!”