Very early the following morning, before dawn, Themba was in the kitchen waiting for the kettle to boil. She rubbed her dry, red eyes and let out a deep sigh.

She was exhausted from lack of sleep. She was also very frightened.

Themba rummaged through the cupboards for something to eat. She found a half empty packet of chocolate biscuits then took the tea and biscuits up to her bedroom.

She leaned back against the pillows, sipping her tea and eating as she thought of the two drug dealers. She also thought about Miriam and what she had said about Zinzi.

She must have dozed off because when she opened her eyes, it was light. She glanced at her watch and gasped when she saw that it was nearly ten o’ clock.

She jumped out of bed and rushed along the corridor to Miriam’s room. She breathed a huge sigh of relief when she saw that the old lady was still fast asleep.

She went back to her bedroom. Maggie was also sleeping under the blanket over her cage.

Themba decided to try and relax by taking a nice, hot bubble bath. She had just added the crystals to the water when her cellphone rang.

“Hi Themba.” It was Lucky.

“I’ve just got back from Central. The old bakery belonging to Miriam burnt to the ground last night.”

“Oh no!” Themba said as a cold shiver ran through her body. “Do you know how the fire started?”

“We’ve got a few theories. But I don’t want to talk so freely over the telephone.”

“What will I tell Miriam?”

“Don’t say anything to her yet, Themba. We need to do some further investigations.”

“I understand,” Themba said.

“It’s chaotic here at the moment,” Lucky said. “I will find it difficult to get away. Would you be able to come down to the police station?”

“Yes, of course. I’ll get Grace to keep an eye on Miriam until I get back.”

Lucky was waiting for Themba when she arrived at the station. He took her gently by the arm and led her into an empty room.

“We have an eye witness who said he saw two men hanging around the old bakery all week. He also spotted them shortly before the fire.”

Themba let out a deep breath. She clenched her jaw as she spoke.

“What is going on, Lucky? It’s not a coincidence that it was the old bakery that went up in flames.”

“Listen,” Lucky said. “None of this is your fault, Themba.”

Themba pulled her brows together and thought back to that day at the police station – the line-up. If she had identified those two men, none of this would be happening now.

She had never told anybody but they had got to her before – threatened to kill her and her father if she said anything.

She felt like her brain was on fire. Her heart was thumping in her chest.

“We have captured the two men responsible for the fire. We found the empty petrol cans stowed in the boot of their car. They are the same ones from the hospital.”

“Well that’s great news!” Themba exclaimed.

“The shorter of the two men is called Pinkie. We have him and Solomon in police custody.”

“Why do I get the feeling that this conversation is leading to something bigger?”

“We discovered the old bakery was not actually empty. It was being used as a front to store drugs. We’re not sure what the street value is yet but it could run into millions of rands.”

Themba’s mouth felt like it was full of cotton wool. She licked her lips. She felt a dull roaring in her ears.

“Why did the two men burn it down then?”

“We’re hoping to get a full confession. Pinkie is talking but he wants a few things in return from us. Solomon is not talking at all.” Lucky looked worriedly at her.

“What is it?” she asked.

“I don’t know how to tell you this … but I might as well spit it all out,” Lucky said. “We found a body buried under the floor at the old bakery.”

“A body?” she echoed. “What has that got to do with me?”

Lucky looked sadly at her. He opened his mouth to say something but before he could begin Themba burst out:

“You think it’s my mom! Is that what you are trying to tell me, Lucky?”

He nodded his head but he didn’t say anything.

“How do you know it’s … my mother?” she asked, in a very small voice.

“Well obviously tests must be carried out – but we found this.”

He pulled open a drawer and carefully lifted out a handbag. Then he put his hand in the drawer again and delicately brought out an old brown purse, a few faded photographs, plus ID documents. They were sealed in plastic evidence bags.

The name printed on the ID book was ‘Zinzi Khathi’.

“I’m sorry, Themba. However, I wanted to be the one to tell you.”

“I appreciate that. Thank you,” she said. “Does my father know?”

“No, not yet. I thought maybe we should drive out there together and tell him.”

“I’d like that,” she said, softly.

“Will you be OK here for a minute? I just need to tell my partner where I’m going.” Lucky stood up and came around to her. He put his arm protectively round her shoulder.

Themba allowed herself to lean into him for a moment. He was solid and dependable.

“Of course I’ll be fine,” she assured him. “Go, go.”

No sooner had he left the room than her cellphone shrilled in her bag. She looked at the caller ID and saw that it was Grace.

“Is everything alright, Grace?”

“It’s Miriam. She’s not … she’s not …breathing. Oh my God!”

“Calm down, Grace. Have you called the ambulance?”

“Yes, I called them straight away.”

Lucky came back into the room.

“The ambulance is here now!” Grace was shrieking. “They are taking her to Saint George’s.”

“I’ll meet you there.”

She told Lucky what had happened.

“I’ll drive you, Themba. We’ll speak to your father later.”

“Of course,” she said as she was already running out of the room.

*****

“I’m really sorry but Mrs Mokala died a few minutes ago,” the doctor told her.

Lucky put his hands on her arms and pulled her to him. He cradled her head as he whispered her name in her ear. Themba felt as if she had been turned to stone.

“It’s OK, Themba. Everything will be alright.”

*****

Six weeks later

With her Dad on her right, and Lucky on her left, Themba watched as Zinzi’s coffin was lowered into the ground.

Finally her mother could lie in the family plot, and be at peace.

Pinkie had signed a confession. Miriam Mokala had been the boss of the drug dealing gang. She had ordered Zinzi killed when she realised that the bakery was only a front for the drug operation.

The two drug dealers had burnt the bakery down because Miriam would not allow them to kill Themba. They knew Themba had seen them and could identify them to the police. But the old lady was adamant; she did not want the Khathi daughter’s blood on her hands too. Pinkie said they were trying to send Miriam a message – that she no longer had control over them.

“I still can’t believe that she allowed those men to use the shop like that,” Happiness said, shocked, to Themba. “Also, she knew exactly who Solomon was, yet she allowed him to go out with me.”

“At least she left you the shop and a great deal of money,” Themba said.

“Yes, the shop is mine now,” Happiness said, and smiled for the first time. “But I don’t want to keep the money, Themba.”

“I understand,” Themba said, because Miriam had also left her a vast amount of money. It was guilt money though – dirty money. Themba had decided to give it to a drug addiction rehabilitation centre.

In her very old age and on her deathbed Miriam regretted what she had done. But it was too late. She had committed murder, ruined countless lives, and all in the name of greed. But she could not buy forgiveness with her money.

*****

“I know you have been through a great deal, Themba,” Lucky said to her one evening. He had come to see her as she came off her shift at the hospital where she now worked. “But, if you are ready, I really want us to be more than friends.”

“I’d like that very much,” Themba said and kissed him softly on the lips. “I’ll trust you with everything I have.”

***

Tell us: What do you think of Themba’s decision to donate her inheritance to fighting drug abuse?