My pupils dilated. I never imagined Percival's mind could be this twisted.
I tried to wrench my hand free, but Norma rushed over and yanked Percival away from me. Her glare could have cut glass.
"Duane Fox! Enough! Do you have to drive him to death before you're satisfied? How can any man be as vicious as you?"
"Forcing your own brother to drink pesticide—why don't you drink it instead?"
In her fury, Norma seized my jaw, wrenched it open, and poured the pesticide down my throat.
It was bitter—so bitter. I tried to spit it out, but she pinned me to the ground, her foot grinding into my burns. I couldn't move.
By the time the entire bottle had been forced down my throat, my face had gone white as paper. My throat felt like it was being sliced open from the inside. But she had already turned away to comfort Percival.
"It's okay now, Percival. No one's going to hurt you anymore."
Percival nestled against her, a smug smile playing at the corner of his lips. Then he spat out a few mouthfuls of white foam and collapsed.
The acting was so clumsy that anyone could see through it. But Norma didn't hesitate. She scooped him up and rushed toward the nearest clinic.