Stolen Future The Betrayed Brother's Revenge

"I didn't bother with him, so he dragged that flatbed cart off by himself. Wore himself out completely. If you ask me, he brought it all on himself."

"The pigs were sick—just slaughter them and be done with it. Why go through all that trouble?"

Percival let out a snort of laughter.

"Those two pigs had to weigh at least two hundred pounds each, right? Gotta hand it to my brother—he's really something else."

"Still, good thing he hauled them off to the vet. Otherwise, I wouldn't have touched meat from sickly pigs!"

Percival took Norma's hand, and the two of them emerged from the back room laden with shopping bags. My body went colder than before.

Norma was a school principal—a respectable position with a decent salary.

But only I knew that more than half of what she earned went to the students at her school who couldn't even afford to eat.

Our life together had been painfully meager. Some months, we didn't see a single scrap of meat.

I'd felt sorry for her. I'd bought two runty piglets at a discount from a farm owner and raised them with care.

When they got sick, no one was more frantic than me. I'd hauled them on a flatbed cart to a town dozens of miles away to see a vet.

Blisters formed on my feet, but I didn't stop to tend to them. Every penny saved was another dose of medicine for those pigs.

But they still didn't make it.

I would never forget that weekend—Norma had asked me to come home, then told me both pigs had died and she'd disposed of the carcasses.

I'd blamed myself for so long. I was convinced that my decision to save money on a pair of cloth shoes by bringing the medicine home to inject them myself had been a fatal mistake. That my incompetence was why Norma couldn't even have meat on the table.

Never once did I imagine that she'd given those pigs to Percival—as a gift to curry his favor.

And now, looking at the bags of supplements in Norma's hands—every single one expensive—where was the woman who supposedly couldn't afford meat?

Tears surged to my eyes. For her deception. And for my own stupidity.

Norma spotted me too. Instinctively, she moved to hide those pricey supplements behind her back, but Percival gripped her arm and held her in place.

He even shot me a look of pure provocation.

"Hey, bro. I haven't been feeling well, so Norma picked up some supplements for me. You don't mind, do you?"

His words seemed to hand Norma a ready-made justification. Before I could even open my mouth, she was already frowning at me.

"Duane! Percival is your own brother! He fainted at the train station from low blood sugar. What's wrong with me buying him a few supplements?"

I said nothing. But the young nurse behind the pharmacy counter chose that moment to speak up.

"Sir, did you still want that burn ointment?"

"It's not expensive—eighty cents a bottle, and it lasts a long time!"

I looked at the bags of supplements in Norma's hands. Then I looked at the fifty cents I'd been clutching in my palm—money I'd scraped together over weeks.

A bitter smile crossed my face. I thanked her for her kindness.

"No, thank you. I can't afford it."

I walked out of the pharmacy. Norma's expression turned ugly.

Percival was right there to fan the flames.

"Norma, you make at least thirty or forty a month, right? You couldn't afford a bottle of burn ointment?"

"Looks like my brother's still holding a grudge over what happened back then. He's deliberately trying to humiliate me!"

"Fine. I'll just leave."

Percival made a show of crying and turning to go. Norma's face went cold. She strode forward, blocked my path, and demanded that I apologize to Percival.

I almost laughed at the absurdity of it.

"Why should I apologize?"

Norma's reasoning was impressively self-righteous.

"All these years, Percival stayed away to spare your feelings."

"He finally comes to visit, and you treat him like this—embarrassing him in public? What kind of brother are you?"