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."