Advocate Errol van der Merwe, nicknamed the Bulldog by his colleagues, was ruthless in picking apart Miss Lurie’s testimony. As he went for the jugular, he reduced the previously confident young woman to tears, forcing her to admit that she had enjoyed a relationship with a “black African male.” She confessed that they’d had sex on “numerous occasions” during the relationship. All of the alleged rapists Miss Lurie had sex with were black African males.

Advocate van der Merwe put it to her that she was now “crying rape” because she didn’t want to admit her conduct to her father, who caught her in the act with the black men.

* * *

There is no suspect. There have been no arrests. I don’t think there ever will be. After two years, the trail must be cold. But in the aftermath of the Cinder incident—Cindergate, if you will—I indulged myself by imagining what it would be like if there were.

It was lovely at first. Everyone believed me at last. I could see it in their eyes. Their doubts about my veracity had been banished. Of course, I don’t know for sure that they had any doubts, but I’ve always suspected that they did. That is the nature of rape. Only those who were there know what really happened, and even then, they will have different versions of the truth in their own minds.

The only person whom I know for certain has never doubted that I was raped is my father. He was there. He saw it.

Once the glow of being believed had faded, I thought about what the trial would be like, and the glow disappeared for good.

I would rather browse my Cinder messages than imagine a rape trial with me as the star witness. The media frenzy would be extreme, thanks to the fame of Coetzee’s book.

And so, I read my Cinder messages, while spooning peaches from the tin I have just opened for dinner. I luxuriate in the names I get called. It makes me feel better than thinking about being cross-examined under oath about what happened to me.

Today there are three new messages:

You need a real man to show you what sex is about. But you will cry rape and try to ruin my life like a typical cock tease bitch, Stay away from me.

I am sorry you’ve had a hard time. I like your photo. You have kind eyes. I think you would be interesting to talk to.

PM me if you want to chat.

Who hurt you, bitch? Was it a man? He must have been blind. You’re hella ugly. I wouldn’t touch you if you were the last bitch on earth.