Spring Never Comes to the Branches

When I was eight, Mother gave me a new little brother.

I was so happy that I ran, grinning, to the edge of the village.

I told Father the good news while he was hoeing the field.

But the next day, a stranger came to our home.

Auntie next door said he was a child trafficker.

Eight copper coins were tossed onto the ground.

That was my price.