My younger cousin was born with paralyzed legs.
But my aunt was overjoyed, saying he was born with a noble fate and wouldn’t have to toil on his feet.
It took a lot of persuading before she finally took him to a big city to seek treatment.
After several surgeries, my cousin was finally able to stand.
But from then on, whenever he encountered a setback, he blamed me.
“If you hadn’t gotten me treated, I could’ve stayed in my wheelchair, with everything brought to me, and I wouldn’t have had to work myself to the bone or suffer so much!”
He held a grudge and lured me onto an overpass, then shoved me off.
When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of my cousin’s hundred-day celebration.
