She knows she shouldn’t have let Mandla exert himself so much considering that he’s had a cold for the past month, but she loves the sound of her son’s laughter so much that she can’t say no to him. Zodwa also can’t bring herself to force the medicine he hates so much down his throat.

The pink syrup may smell like fruit but it tastes like chalk and makes him gag. Zodwa can’t blame Mandla for not keeping it down or for his hysteria when he sees her coming at him with the liquid-filled syringe. She has so little quality time with him that she doesn’t want to ruin it by being the one to enforce rules and make him swallow bitter medication. He also hates her constantly wiping at the mucus that runs from his nose into his mouth.

Once he’s finished with the rooibos tea, Mandla passes the cup to Zodwa. He usually calls her “Dwa,” since he can’t pronounce her full name, but now as he reaches for her hand, he says, “Mama.”

Zodwa doesn’t know what prompted it, as she’s never tried to get him to call her that. While she’s desperate for her son’s love, the last thing she wants is to confuse him. Still, it’s as if he sees through the charade of what she’s doing there and can see into the truth of their relationship.

“Mama,” he says again, grabbing her index finger.

Zodwa doesn’t realize she’s crying until Mandla reaches up and wipes a tear from her cheek and then brings his hand to his face to inspect his fingers. Once he’s made sure that the tears don’t stain, he turns and tucks his head into Zodwa’s chest so he can rest against her. That’s how he falls asleep, listening to his mother’s heartbeat.

For the first time since she’s been there, Zodwa wonders: If she ran with him, how far would they get before Ruth came for them?

CHAPTER SIXTY-SIX

Delilah

1 October 1995

Johannesburg, South Africa

Are you okay? You’ve gone terribly pale,” Sister Marguerite said, her brow scrunched in concern as she steadied me.

“He knew . . . he knew I was his mother?”

“Yes, he’d gone looking for you at your last-known address. I’d helped him find your admittance records so we could track it down. It was a farm in Magaliesburg but you weren’t there.”

Sarie’s words came back to me then.

Did your friend find you, by the way?

What friend?

The one who came here just over a month ago looking for you. I told him you hadn’t lived here since you were a girl and that the family was all long gone. He was very disappointed.