The black Mercedes swerves into the yard on a Saturday morning, sweeping up a dust storm. Liyana curiously spies it through her bedroom window. She watches as Aunt Daliwe nearly swings the door off its hinges. She doesn’t answer to that name anymore, she is Dalia now, Liyana giggles, then banishes the thought.

Aunt Dalia steps out and her face betrays her disappointment at the scenery. The yard is fenceless, keeping a two-bedroomed house and a broken-down Ford van. Liyana’s mother, Thobile, rushes out to embrace her sister. Bongani scampers close behind, overexcited by his aunt’s arrival.

“I didn’t think you would come!” Thobile exclaims.

“I almost didn’t,” Dalia confesses, pulling away, “Where is Liya?”

“Still packing.” Thobile gestures towards the house. “Please, come in.”

Aunt Dalia visibly hesitates but follows her sister inside.

Liyana shifts away from the window and proceeds to stuff a collection of clothes in a suitcase. She imagines her aunt has been offered a rickety chair and a steaming cup of tea. Yet she isn’t fooled by her mother’s forced cheerfulness towards Dalia. Liyana knows there is an unspoken tension between them. With everything packed, Liyana hauls the suitcase to the kitchen. She finds her mother keeping herself busy, wiping down the countertop and speaking over the uneasiness.

“You are the only one I could call, Dalia,” Thobile explains, “I just need you to help her get into a good university. I know she has a chance of a better life.”

“Better than the life you chose?” Dalia scoffs, “Where is your husband, Johan?”

A deep, throaty cough erupts from the next room, seemingly as a response to Dalia’s question.

“Dad is too sick to get out of bed,” Bongani pipes up.

Thobile throws him a threatening glance and he bites his lip. They remain in strained silence until they notice Liyana at the door.

“There you are Liya!” Dalia sings theatrically, pushing away the untouched tea. “We can finally get going.”

They gingerly head out and gather around the Mercedes. Dalia makes a show of unloading the grocery-filled plastics and handing them to Bongani. He eagerly wrestles them back to the house.

It grates on Thobile’s nerves but she focuses on her daughter. “Take care of yourself,” she instructs Liyana.

“Oh please, Thobile, I will look after her,” Dalia cuts in as she drops into the driver’s seat.

Liyana gives her mother a quick squeeze before she climbs into the car. It immediately pulls away, leaving Thobile tempted to run after it. Instead, she goes back to check on her ailing husband.

*****

Long after leaving Ermelo, the journey still feels awkward and Liyana can’t help but notice her aunt’s sideward glances. They make her feel uneasy.

“Three distinctions!” Aunt Dalia suddenly announces. “Matric must have been easy for you.”

“Not really,” Liyana smiles.

“You are far too pretty for school. You could hustle up a lot of money by working … or something,” her aunt remarks.

“I would rather take my chances in university,” Liyana assures her.

“Of course,” Dalia sighs.

They settle back into an uncomfortable silence. Five hours roll by and Liyana inevitably dozes off. She is jerked awake by the car swerving through traffic. They have made it into the city and night has fallen. A crazed look is plastered over Dalia’s face and she recklessly veers the vehicle into unfamiliar streets. None of which Liyana recognises from her previous visits to her aunt’s house in Alberton. Panic sets in when they speed past a sign introducing them to Rosettenville.

“Where are we going?” she demands.

“Shut up!” Aunt Dalia’s tone has changed.

The car halts across from a run-down bar. Two silhouettes peel themselves from the shadows of the night and approach the car.

“Get out,” Dalia instructs, coldly.

“What?” Liyana doesn’t understand.

The men reach the car and one of them wrenches the passenger door open. He grabs hold of Liyana’s arm and drags her out. Her screams fall on deaf ears as Dalia calmly steps out of the car. She shakes the second man’s hand. He is wearing a silver suit and looks at Liyana with a knowing grin. Dalia’s matching smile brings the thought of betrayal crashing down on Liyana.

“Beautiful.” The man retrieves a stack of money from his pocket.

“Just like I promised,” Aunt Dalia eagerly responds.

The brief exchange is the last thing Liyana sees before she is taken inside. A pair of swinging doors swallow them and Liyana finds herself engulfed by the slow music in the bar. People sit unnerved by the man wrestling her towards the back. They take a flight of stairs down to the underground floor. He shoves her into the first of many rooms and locks the door. She is left with nothing but the drumming of her heart against her chest.

***

Tell us: What do you think is in store for Liyana?