I remained patient and sat in a chair, watching my sister's performance. Amazingly, as she cleaned, her legs, which had been stiff for eight years, actually bent slightly on their own.
Yara's anger grew as she continued to clean and eventually, the resentment in her eyes erupted fully. Yet, she still kept up the pretense of being paralyzed. I sneered inwardly, thinking to myself that this time, I would see just how long she could keep up the act.
In the evening, my parents came back from the fields. As soon as they arrived, my mother rushed into my sister's room. After a while, she came out with a dark expression on her face.
She called me over and slapped me hard on both sides of my face. The force of the slaps was so intense that my cheeks swelled up immediately.
With a face full of anger, my mother furiously accused me, "Yasmine, who do you think is responsible for your sister's current state? Your sister is still bedridden and now you won't even clean her up. Don't you have any heart?"
My mother's eyes were filled with concern for my sister and blame towards me. I was familiar with this look, having lived under such scrutiny for twelve years in my previous life.