“No, I’ve heard enough.” She was crying, her whole face contracted into a mask of grief. “Are you here to steal my son?” Her voice broke. “Is that why you’re here because—”

Zodwa stood, eyes blazing. “He’s my son, not yours. I can’t steal what is rightfully mine. And I could have taken him anytime I wanted to over the past year if that’s what I planned to do. Anytime!”

“So, what then?” Ruth demanded through her tears. “Why play this game and toy with us like this? What is it that you want?”

“What do I want?” Zodwa cried. “I want to live. I want to live to raise my son but that’s not going to happen now. And if I can’t have that, then all I want is for my son to be taken care of. I just want him to have a mother when I’m no longer here for him.” The fire in her eyes dimmed then as her legs buckled beneath her. I reached out and grabbed her, steadying her.

As she began to cry, I pulled her up and I wrapped my arms around her. “It’s okay,” I whispered. “It’s all going to be okay.”

Sometimes that was all we needed to hear even if it was the biggest lie ever told.

CHAPTER EIGHTY-SEVEN

Zodwa

18 July 1996

Verdriet, Magaliesburg, South Africa

There’s a knock at the door and Zodwa leaps to her feet, rushing to open it. It’s Delilah and she’s alone.

Her sad smile answers Zodwa’s unasked question. “She wouldn’t let me bring him, but give it time, Zodwa. It’s early days still.”

“Please come in,” Zodwa says, stepping aside. “Would you like to sit?” She indicates the table with its two chairs.

“Thank you,” Delilah says.

It would probably be more polite to skirt the issue, and the last thing Zodwa wants is to make Delilah feel uncomfortable, but she can’t help blurting out, “Does Ruth want me to go? Is that what you’ve come to tell me?”

“No. She’s upset at the moment, but it will pass. We just need to be patient with her. Give her a bit of time.”

Time is the one thing Zodwa doesn’t have but that’s not Delilah’s fault and so she doesn’t say so. Instead, she says, “Thank you for helping me. I don’t know why you’re doing it but . . .” Zodwa trails off, trying to find the words to express her gratitude.

Delilah smiles but it’s a sad smile. “I have an inkling of what you’re going through.” Zodwa must look skeptical because Delilah laughs. She gets a far-off look and then says, “I was also raped, Zodwa. Probably at the same age that you were. And I too fell pregnant from that.”

Zodwa’s eyes widen. Whatever she might have been expecting Delilah to say, it wasn’t that.