“Not because he was black, Ruth.” She shakes her head and starts walking away before she stops again. “What offer were they talking about?”

“They’ve upped their offer for the farm, and it’s an extremely generous one, which we should consider—”

“They’re the ones who want to buy it?” Dee snorts. “I already told you it’s not happening but this just makes it easier to repeat myself. No!”

“Stop being so pigheaded about this. Five million rand is nothing to be sneezed at! We could split the profits and you could buy a mansion wherever you like and still have a lot of change left over.”

“I don’t need a mansion. Not everyone is as materialistic as you are. Do vile things have to personally affect you for you to give a shit?”

“What things?”

“Racism and white supremacy, for a start.”

It’s a stupid question because how can racism affect me personally? I ignore it and pose one of my own. “Don’t you want to be able to be in a financial position to help Daniel? Move him to a better hospital or help with his recovery down the line—”

“Don’t you dare. Don’t you dare use my son to manipulate me. My God, how low are you willing to stoop to get your own way?”

As she storms off, I realize that I’m not going to get this farm sold. It seems like the universe really wants to keep me here and I think I know why. It’s time to make the best of a bad situation.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Zodwa

19 May 1994

Big Hope Informal Settlement, Magaliesburg, South Africa

None of the roads leading into the squatter camp are wide enough to allow bringing the coffin directly to the shack by vehicle, and having it carried there will require at least six men and a lot of awkward maneuvering.

Instead, the bakkie stops on the sand verge on the side of the main road. Cars speed by and kick up dust, their exhaust fumes making Zodwa dizzy. The driver hops out, hat in hand, to offer his condolences.

Leleti’s basic pine coffin lies in the extra-long Venter trailer. This is how she will be taken home to KwaZulu, where she will be buried in the village graveyard alongside her husband, and this is where Zodwa and Mama Beauty will say their goodbyes.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go, my child?” Mama Beauty asks. “I am happy to give you the money for the return journey.”

The payment for the transport to take Leleti back home came from the last of the money she’d gotten from her madam. Thank God Leleti religiously contributed to the Burial Society every month or else Zodwa wouldn’t have been able to purchase a coffin, simple or not. Mama Beauty knows that Zodwa can’t afford the transport for herself.