I looked up. The words were swimming in front of my eyes. I felt as if Mother were swinging a shovel against the back of my head. Did I understand what I'd just read? I read it over a few more times to see if I'd got it wrong. But I hadn't. The barrier that had blocked my life had never existed to begin with. My mother had conspired with Auntie to rob me of my life.
Confusion scattered inside my head. I really was a son of a bitch. What a cruel thing this was. It had made my life a ruse. It had made me an idiot.
The way Mother and Auntie had treated me flashed before my eyes. I thought of all the things I'd given up, the things I'd had to accept, the awful nights I'd trembled in despair. All those things had been because I thought I had epilepsy. Rage coursed through my veins; my body burned up like a piece of coal on fire. I felt as if I were breathing inside a blaze. I wanted to run out onto the roof and scream into her face: 'Why? Why did you do this to me?'