My Buddhist Brother Sent Me Away; I Drowned, He Broke

In my fifth year of being sent to the mountains, I finally found my chance to escape from the cattle shed. Dragging my broken leg, I knelt in front of the car of a businessman who had come to the town to do charity work, begging him to save my life. But the person who stepped out of the car was my own brother. He rolled his prayer beads between his fingers, noble and full of pity, and then, after he saw my face clearly, he stamped his foot down on the back of my hand. "Theresa Henson, running into me today is your karma coming back on you."