A WEB OF DECEIT

chapter 42

Thelani

It was supposed to be just another morning. Just a normal drive to work, nothing out of the ordinary. The radio was on, playing my favorite songs, and for a moment, I felt light. The sun was shining, and for once, it felt like I could breathe. Then the news came on. I was half-listening, caught up in the rhythm of the music when I heard the name: *Mthembu*. The Mthembus, as in the owners of the company I work for. My stomach tightened.

They were saying millions had disappeared from the company's accounts, just like that. Gone, without a trace. I felt my heart skip. What the hell does that even mean? How does millions just vanish like that? I turned up the volume, trying to catch every word, but the details were vague. All I could think about was work. What did this mean for us?

By the time I reached the office, the scene was chaos. Journalists swarmed the entrance like vultures, cameras flashing, reporters shouting. We had to push our way through just to get inside. Something was definitely wrong.

Mr. Mthembu himself was there, pacing around the reception area, looking tense and out of place. He was never around. He left the day-to-day running of the company to others. Seeing him now was enough to send alarm bells ringing.

It didn't take long before he called all of us into the boardroom. My heart was racing the whole time. The atmosphere was thick with anxiety. No one knew what was happening, but the tension was palpable. I couldn't help but fidget, my mind racing with questions. What was going on? What did this mean for us, for the company? For me?

As we all gathered in the boardroom, Mr. Mthembu stood at the front, his face a mask of frustration and stress. He barely acknowledged us as he began speaking.

"Good day, colleagues," he started, though there was nothing good about this day at all. His voice was heavy, almost defeated. "As you may have heard, the company is currently under investigation. We've had a significant issue with our accounts... millions have disappeared, and we're still trying to figure out how it happened. Unfortunately..."

I held my breath.

"... the company will be closed until further notice. We cannot service clients without any funds."

*Closed.* The word hung in the air like a noose. I felt my stomach drop. What did he mean by closed? Just temporarily, right? This couldn't be real. We couldn't just... shut down. This job was everything to me. It kept me going, it kept me sane. What the hell was happening?

Monica, one of my colleagues, voiced what we were all thinking.

"Mr. Mthembu," she started cautiously, "are we going to at least get our salaries for the month? And how long are we closing for?"

He looked at her, almost annoyed, and I could see the anger simmering beneath his calm exterior.

"Who are you again?" he asked coldly.

"Monica, sir," she replied, her voice small.

"Yes, Monica, as I've explained... WE HAVE NO FUNDS." His voice was harsh now, louder. "So, in simple terms, we are shutting down the company. Effective immediately. And you are all free to look for other jobs now. We will not be able to pay you."

The room erupted into murmurs and protests. People were outraged, confused, scared. I could hear the frustration, the disbelief in their voices, but I couldn't speak. I couldn't move. It felt like the world was closing in on me, like the ground had been pulled from beneath my feet. I stared at Mr. Mthembu, trying to process his words, trying to make sense of the chaos unraveling around me.

How could this happen? How could everything just... disappear? The job that had been my anchor for the past few years, the one thing that kept me steady through all the madness in my life, was gone. Just like that. No warning. No time to prepare. Gone.