Joanie struggled to inhale a proper breath for a few minutes. She was terrified.

Her heart was pounding, sweat slithering its way down her spine. She couldn’t hear herself think, for all the blood rushing through her ears. Please don’t let me faint, she begged any deity that might be listening. She had a sinking feeling, though, that no self-respecting deity would even come close to this place, let alone listen to its inhabitants.

Simply put, it was…hellish. The ground was a mushy, disgusting pit of mud that stunk of rot and moss. There were heaps of garbage all around, and electricity cables were hanging carelessly across houses in a complicated mess. Not that you could call the sorry looking shacks houses. They were nothing more than a bunch of materials grouped together to form a shelter.

Joanie shuddered.

She’d made a mistake. She’d made a BIG mistake.

Joanie knew she was in way over her head, but a mental image of herself going back defeated to the McIres stopped her from running for her life. She wouldn’t go back to grovel. She would never give them the chance to gloat about being right.

“Right. I CAN do this,” she said aloud.

Joanie carefully picked her way towards the worst looking shack in the area. She tried to shut her mind off from noticing the peeling paint and the decidedly suspicious odour. She knocked.

A breathless moment later, the door was yanked open, “Ewe?”

The girl looked about fourteen, pretty, but dressed in shabby jeans and an old t-shirt. At least they were clean. Joanie tried to make her voice sound cheery, but it came off wobbly and fake.

“Hi, I’m looking for the…uh…Thabatha family.”

Kukwa Thabatha apha, ewe?” which meant, “This is the Thabatha residence, yes?”

Joanie gulped. “I don’t…uh…that is. I can’t…”

“Can’t you speak Xhosa? Where are you from?” the girl asked curiously.

“Here, in Cape Town, but I grew up…Listen, could I come in? I’m actually looking for your parents.”

The girl spent a few more minutes deciding if Joanie could be trusted, then she gestured for her to come in. Joanie sighed in relief. The outside might be horrific, but the inside was spotlessly clean. Sure, the furniture was on the old and dull side, but it could’ve been worse.

“Mama is at work, but she’ll be here soon. I’m Zoli. What do you want from my mom?”

Joanie sighed again, but this time in irritation. Inquisitive little thing; this one. Zoli. It sounded strangely exotic to Joanie. She took a closer look at the girl. She really was pretty.

It hit Joanie then that this pretty girl could be her younger sister! Oh God! Now that she’d realised it, she noticed a slight resemblance. Was she imagining it?

“Look, it’s personal ok?” Joanie told her. “So how come your English is so good anyways?”

The girl gave her a look that clearly said ‘Idiot’. “I go to school,” she rolled her eyes at Joanie.

Oh. Stupid. Of course the girl… Zoli…went to school. Did she honestly think that only girls adopted by white parents could go to school? Joanie cursed herself.

The next half hour was spent in an awkward, stilting silence. Joanie was getting nervous by the minute. This was not going as she’d pictured it. What’s new?