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The death of my father has occurred. As a result of my mother's message, I returned to my hometown for the first time in two years to attend the burial. Seeing her for the first time since my father had wed her while I was at boarding school was an emotional experience for me. Despite his wealth, my father was an extravagant spender, and this was his fourth marriage. There was a lady standing at the entrance as I walked in. My stepmom was to blame. Despite the fact that it was my first encounter with her, I recognised her as the face of my biological mother. The thought of falling on her chest as a youngster made me want to do it all over again. When I saw my father's decrepit body after he fell off a horse and died, I pondered why my mother and her had fallen for him. The following day, a beautiful carriage arrived at the home. He gave it to me as a gift. The mortgage had already been taken out on my property, so he would look after us. In hindsight, I wish I'd known that my father had a second incentive to look out for our well-being. There were no male relatives in his immediate family. In order to be an heir, he adopted me. My stepmother and I made our way to my grandfather's residence in this manner.