“Good. I don’t trust small-town doctors, no offense. How’s Mandla doing?”

“He’s fine. I’m having to keep him away from her, so he’s a bit crabby.” I didn’t add that Mandla had spent the night with Zodwa at the cottage. It was too unusual an arrangement for Vince not to comment on. Zodwa being Mandla’s biological mother wasn’t my news to share. “I’m about to give Ruth her pills. I’ll let you know what the doctor says.”

“Thanks, I appreciate it. Please tell her that I send my . . . regards.”

“I will. Bye, Vince.”

He said regards but it was clear he meant love. Considering how animated Ruth had been after returning from their lunch at Sun City a few months before, and how her voice softened whenever she spoke about him, it was obvious that she still loved him. His concern for her while she was ill, as well as the fact that he’d rushed to her side as soon as I’d told him about Mandla’s illness, made me think he hadn’t gotten over her either. I was hopeful for a reconciliation and thought about planting a few seeds to get her thinking about it. Sometimes people needed a gentle nudge to get them going in the right direction.

Jezebel was at Ruth’s door, whining to be let in. She was more agitated than usual and I told her to settle down as I picked up Ruth’s mug of tea and her antibiotics, carrying them to her door. “Ruth?” Hearing no reply, I knocked. When she still didn’t answer, I opened the door, careful not to make too much noise in case she was still sleeping.

But she wasn’t sleeping.

Jezebel rushed inside and stood over Ruth, who lay facedown on the carpet, one arm stretched out toward the door. I dropped the mug then, hot liquid splashing against my shins as it shattered, and I ran through the debris to get to her.

“Ruth!”

For a second, I thought that Ruth was passed out. She’d had one bad night when she’d fallen off the wagon just after Zodwa told us the news, getting hideously drunk while Mandla slept. I’d prepared a speech and been ready to lay down the law the next morning, but she’d come through to the kitchen contrite, promising it would never happen again.

Please let it have happened again.

But even as I bent over her, gently shaking her to try to wake her, I knew that wasn’t it.

My sister was cold to the touch and didn’t flinch or react at all when Jezebel licked her ear. As I rolled Ruth over, she gazed vacantly up at the ceiling, her eyes having lost all their light.

CHAPTER NINETY-TWO

Zodwa

6 August 1996

Verdriet, Magaliesburg, South Africa