A WEB OF DECEIT ✔️

chapter 52

Nkosikhona

We drove to Alex a few days after the meeting with the private investigator. I hadn't told Thelani anything about it. She'd been consumed with work, securing a major deal for her company, and I didn't want to upset her by bringing up something that might be too painful-especially since she had no idea I was looking into her biological parents.

Thabo and I took his gusheshe, an old BMW that blended perfectly in these streets. My car would've caused a scene, and in a place like this, the last thing you wanted was attention. The deeper we got into Alex, the more my unease grew. This wasn't the vibrant side of the township; it was the darker side, where survival hung in the air like a thick fog. Trash fires dotted the road, and the homes here were barely standing. The streets seemed hostile, like they were watching me, waiting.

We pulled up to what was barely a house-just some corrugated iron held together by sheer will. The gate was hanging on one hinge, threatening to collapse if I touched it. Thabo looked at me with a raised eyebrow.

"Yabo, I think I'll stay out here and watch the car," he said with a half-smile, but I knew he was serious. "This place doesn't look too safe."

I couldn't blame him. I nodded and stepped out, pushing open the broken gate as carefully as I could. It screeched in protest. As I made my way toward the door, I could hear shouting from inside-angry voices, people throwing insults. It sounded like a fight. My stomach twisted. What was I walking into? I knocked, and suddenly, everything went silent.

The door opened a crack, and a boy no older than fourteen stood there, scowling. "What do you want?" he asked, his tone dripping with suspicion.

"I'm looking for-"

"*Uban loyo, Msizi!*" A sharp voice from inside cut me off. The boy-Msizi, I guess-didn't bother responding. Instead, a young woman, maybe in her early twenties, appeared at the door. Her eyes raked over me with a smirk.

"Ohhh, who might you be? Come in," she said, stepping aside to let me in, though her tone was playful, not welcoming.

I hesitated. This wasn't what I had expected, but I had come too far to turn back now. Inside, the place was a disaster-clothes, empty bottles, and a suffocating stench of stale beer.

"Hi, I'm looking for Sizakele Dlamini. Am I in the right place?"

The woman, still smiling, folded her arms. "I'm Celani, her daughter. Why are you looking for my mom? Are you her new man?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

What? "No, I'm here on a very important matter. Is she around?"

Before she could respond, a woman staggered into the room, holding a cluster of beers in her arms. She was older, maybe in her late forties, but the booze had left its mark, aging her faster than her years. She looked rough, her face puffy, eyes bloodshot. This had to be Sizakele.

"Ohhh, *sawubona handsome*," she slurred, making her way toward me with an exaggerated grin. I barely had time to react before she tripped, spilling beer all over me. "Oops," she giggled, stumbling into me, her weight heavy with the alcohol.

"*Yoh,*" I muttered under my breath. "What did I get myself into?"

She didn't seem to care, still giggling like a child. I gently pushed her back into a nearby chair, trying to avoid being rude, though my patience was wearing thin. The beer was soaking into my shirt, cold and sticky.

"Mama, this man is looking for you," Celani said, watching the scene unfold with a smirk. "*Uyamazi?*"

Sizakele squinted at me, swaying slightly in her seat. "No, never seen him before," she muttered, then turned her attention back to the beers, almost forgetting I was there.