“We’re not letting you get away with bringing that disease into our town.”

Their shouting sets Jezebel off but she’s still closed in the room with Mandla, so the barking is muffled. Zodwa’s heart is pounding so violently that she wonders why they can’t hear it.

That disease.

She doesn’t know what they’re talking about, but she understands their intent. They aren’t going to just turn around and leave.

“You and that AIDS-infested kaffir baby need to go,” one of them calls as he bangs on the door again.

AIDS infested. What do they mean? It doesn’t matter. She understands the “kaffir baby” part. They’re here for Mandla, and Zodwa feels fear like it’s a hand at her throat.

“Come, let’s go try the back.”

Zodwa spins around to look at the patio door that she came through a few minutes ago. The slam-lock security gate stands uselessly open but the sliding glass panel is closed; she can’t remember if she locked it behind her. Zodwa steps toward it to check when she sees arcs of torchlight cutting through the darkness. They’re coming. It’s too late and so she runs for Mandla’s room.

When Zodwa slips inside, Jezebel is on her feet. There’s enough moonlight coming through the window for Zodwa to see that the dog’s hackles are raised. Zodwa closes the door behind her, turning the key in the lock. Mandla is awake now. His eyes gleam in the dark. The dog’s barking has startled him and he looks like he’s on the verge of crying. She leans into the crib and picks him up, jiggling him around to soothe him. AIDS-infested kaffir baby.

She can’t think about that now.

Zodwa’s thoughts return to the patio door. The security system is useless if she didn’t lock the sliding door behind her but she can’t remember if she did. And then she remembers the remote-control panic alarms Ruth put in every room and finally understands why they were necessary.

The remote is meant to be hanging off a nail hammered into the wall next to Mandla’s changing table but she can’t see it in the darkness. After reaching out for it, her fingers come away empty and she curses. Zodwa turns to the changing table and pulls out one of the drawers. As she does so, she hears voices nearby and then the sound of a chair being knocked over.

The men are inside.

For a moment or two, Zodwa stands frozen. All she can hear is her quavering breath and the whooshing of blood racing past her ears. When she starts moving again, she feels her way through the drawer with her free hand, but it doesn’t contain anything but Mandla’s clothes.

Zodwa pulls the next one open.

“Where’s the bitch?”

“Doesn’t look like anyone’s home.”