When I pulled back from Mama Amethyst-Rain’s embrace, she handed me a tissue, which emerged from somewhere under her table. After I blew my nose, I said, “So can I talk to her? Ma, I mean.”

Mama Amethyst-Rain signed. “Oh darling, for someone like you, I wish I could. But if I did that, then everyone would want me to do it for free, and I need to eat and so does Bebenya.”

I straightened my spine, and jutted out my chin. “How much?”

She sat back and looked at me. “Well, now, darling, I must admit, I normally charge 300 rand per half hour, most sessions lasting an hour.”

I gasped. I couldn’t help it, 600 hundred rand is a ton of money. There are people on my street who don’t make that in a week.

She gave me a small smile. “But darling, listen. You are so, so, young. I’ll make it two-fifty, but please don’t tell anyone, then everybody will hound me for discounts, and the stress will block my flow, and then I won’t be able to communicate with the spirits.”

500 rand was still a ton of money. But I knew Daddy kept an emergency stash of cash in an old coffee Ricoffy tin. Maybe there would be enough.

“Okay, I’ll do it.”

She nodded, “Oh, my darling, that is wonderful. Now my next client is waiting, so how about you go chat with Bebenya and make an appointment?”

I did exactly that, booked a week from today. Coach might kick me off the team, at this rate, but a chance to talk to Ma again was worth it.

Unfortunately, there was only 450 rand in the tin when I got home. But I took care of it. When daddy gave me my weekly taxi money, I hid it and walked to school, getting up super early, telling him I was doing extra hockey training. I felt bad for lying, but what else could I do?

The week dragged on. It wasn’t just the extra walking pulling me down, but the lack of sleep. I was just so nervous. What if Mama Amethyst-Rain couldn’t get in touch with Ma? What if she did? What would I tell Ma? Did she already know most things about me? After all, she noticed how little I was eating when daddy wasn’t watching.

Although now everybody seemed to be watching.

“You okay?” Laetitia asked me at lunch.

“Yeah, why?”

“You just seem off,” she said. “Although I am relieved to see you eating more, finally. Coach had told me to keep an eye on you and if your appetite didn’t improve, she was going to talk to your dad.”

“How rude! It’s none of her business or yours.”

Laetitia had scowled. “Hey, I’m your friend. I’ve been worried and so has everybody else. I’m not apologising for caring about you.”

It was rude, but nothing was going to change my opinion. Still, I didn’t have time to argue with her about it, because it was time to go. “Listen,” I told her, “I’ve got something important to do. Can you cover for me?”

“What?”

“Come on, tell them I’m not feeling good.”

She eyed me up and down. “Are you sure you are not pregnant? Because my sister acted a lot like you when she got pregnant. First, she tried to starve it out, then she accepted her fate and started eating.”

I rolled my eyes. “I promise you, I am not pregnant. It’s just…I’ve got something to do with my ma.”

“Oh,” she said, and her face filled with pity. “I’ll do it. But you’ll be okay, right?”

“Right,” I said, as my stomach clenched.

***

Tell us: Do you think Laetitia was right to report to her coach how much Nevaeh was eating or not eating? Should they have minded their own business? Or is that what people who love you do?