Chapter 11 - Chapter 10

# Chapter 10
AYANDA

Sometimes I do stupid shit because I'm too weak to resist my own curiosity.

And this is arguably one of those times.

The logical thing would be to turn around and return home, but I drove three hours up the N1 to get here. Sure, I could use work as an excuse, but it would be a poor one.

No, my curiosity alone brought me here.

My obsession with a dangerous man.

Before I let those thoughts fester and grow into taunting monsters, I raise my hand and knock firmly on the door.

The wind chime to my left sings in the autumn breeze, the soft notes lulling the anxiety inside me. When I shift on my feet, the wooden stoep creaks. I note the flaking paint and the potted flowers beside the front door.

A car drives past on the road behind me just as the lock flips, and an elderly woman with greying hair tied back in a neat bun eyes me curiously.

"Molo, Mrs. Majola?" I start. "I'm Ayanda. We spoke on the phone."

"The reporter?"

"Yes. I'm conducting interviews with Vusi Hadebe."

She eyes me for a second before stepping aside and letting me enter her home. "I expected someone older."

My smile is genuine as I take in her small but cosy hallway. "That's what most people say."

"The kitchen is through there." She motions ahead, then walks past me. Photographs of Mrs. Majola's family line the walls.

"My kids are grown now," she states with a soft smile in the doorway. "The eldest is pregnant with her second child."

"You have a beautiful family."