Chapter 3 - The House in Umhlanga
"YOU ARE NOT GOING TO THAT HOUSE ALONE!"
Nango folded her arms.
"Sbu, I have a job."
"And someone has an active contract on your life."
"I understand that."
"Then stop acting like this is an ordinary Tuesday."
She looked at me steadily.
"Stop talking to me as though I can't make decisions for myself."
That stopped me.
Because she was right.
My fear was turning into something dangerously close to the behavior everyone already suspected of me.
I took a breath.
"I'm sorry."
Her expression softened.
"I know you're scared."
"I'm terrified."
She reached for my hand.
"So am I."
Those words hurt more than I expected.
Nango had spent months trying to reclaim the peace her mother had stolen from her.
Now someone was threatening to destroy it again.
Aunt Zanele watched us from the sofa.
For the first time, she seemed to understand that Nango wasn't staying because she was helpless.
She was staying because she had made a choice.
But love wouldn't protect her from whoever had reopened the contract.
We needed evidence.
Nango retrieved her laptop and opened the renovation plans for the Umhlanga property.
The project involved a luxury house overlooking the coast.
She'd been hired to redesign several rooms, including a major overhaul of the ceiling and lighting systems.
She had a meeting that morning to discuss changes before construction continued.
But as she examined the latest documents, she frowned.
"That's strange."
"What?"
"These aren't the plans I approved."
She enlarged one drawing.
"The contractor requested minor lighting adjustments. But somebody has changed the inspection schedule and moved the meeting to an unfinished section of the house."
I leaned closer.
"Would that area normally be occupied?"
"No. Most of the workers are supposed to be on the other side of the property."
Aunt Zanele stood.
"Cancel the meeting."
Nango was already reaching for her phone.
"I'm calling the site supervisor."
A man answered after several rings.
"Sizwe speaking."
"Sizwe, it's Nango. Did you send me the revised plans?"
There was a pause.
"Which revised plans?"
"The ones requiring me to inspect the rear wing alone."
Another silence.
Then Sizwe's voice changed.
"Ms. Ntshangase, don't go there."
Nango looked at me.
"Why?"
"Someone came here yesterday asking about your schedule."
"Who?"
"I don't know. He said he represented the property owner."
"Did you let him inside?"
"Management approved his access."
"What's his name?"
Sizwe hesitated.
"Please, just stay away from the property today."
The call ended.
I stared at Nango.
She was pale.
Aunt Zanele moved toward the window and pulled back the curtain.
"Do you think they're watching this house?"
"I don't know," I admitted.
But I knew we couldn't ignore the possibility.
Nango reopened the project documents.
She searched through the ownership information provided by the agency that had hired her.
After several minutes, she found the name of the company behind the renovation.
Radebe Property Holdings.
My stomach dropped.
I knew that name.
Bheki Radebe was a wealthy property developer with political connections and a reputation for getting whatever he wanted.
He was also one of the last people I'd seen with Nomusa before receiving the original contract.
Nango noticed my expression.
"Sbu?"
I pointed at the company name.
"That's him."
"Who?"
"The man who helped your mother arrange the payment."
Zanele stepped closer.
"You're certain?"
"I'd recognize that name anywhere."
Nango stared at the screen.
"So the same man involved in the attempt on my life owns the house I'm renovating?"
"Yes."
She leaned back, visibly shaken.
The implication was obvious.
The renovation wasn't just another project.
It had placed Nango inside a property controlled by the man who might be trying to kill her.
And the altered inspection schedule could have been designed to isolate her.
Nango closed the laptop.
"We're going to the police."
I nodded.
It was the answer I'd been hoping to hear.
Then her phone rang again.
Sizwe.
She answered immediately.
"Hello?"
His breathing sounded uneven.
"Ms. Ntshangase, listen carefully."
"What happened?"
"Your name was removed from tomorrow's project schedule."
Nango frowned.
"What?"
"They told the staff you wouldn't be coming back."
A chill ran down my spine.
"Who told them that?" I asked.
Sizwe lowered his voice.
"The owner."
A door slammed somewhere behind him.
Then he whispered one final sentence.
"He's already arranged for your replacement."
The call disconnected.
May you like
And suddenly I understood that Radebe wasn't simply threatening Nango.
He was preparing for a world in which she no longer existed.
