THE INCARCERATED STRANGER

Chapter 8

MANGALISO

"Well, I'm impressed with the way you answer the questions, Mr. Mazibuko. It shows me you are ready for next week’s court appearance," she says to me, a smile on her face. He chuckles softly, feeling a mix of relief and anticipation.
"I just want to be over with all this and be out of this place," He replys, and she nods in understanding.
"Uhm... can I ask if you don’t mind?" she says hesitantly. He nod, encouraging her to continue.
"You can ask anything, Miss Qwane," He assure her. She clears her throat, gathering her thoughts.
"Ever since I started coming here, I've noticed you have been getting special treatment. Why is that?" she asks, curiosity shining in her eyes. I chuckle again; He has been waiting for her to ask this question because I can see how much she wants to know.
"When you have money, you can get anything you want, Miss Qwane. That's how I got the treatment I deserve," he explain, watching as her eyebrows shoot up in surprise.
"Oh? If you have money, then why didn’t you buy your way out of jail?" she asks, tilting her head slightly.
"Because I don't want to. I have my reasons for choosing to stay here without buying my way out," He says firmly, and she nods thoughtfully.
"I wonder what your cell looks like if the prison wardens are treating you like a king. And your food? I'm sure you use a fork to eat," she remarks playfully. I can’t help but chuckle at her candidness; it’s refreshing to see her speak her mind so freely.
"You’d be surprised," He replys with a grin.
"But let’s just say it’s not exactly five-star dining." They share a laugh, and for a moment, the weight of our situation feels a little lighter.
"I'm sorry if I ask too much, Mr. Mazibuko," she says, closing her eyes for a moment, as if gathering her thoughts. He chuckles lightly.
"I don’t have a problem at all; you are a lawyer after all. I'm not surprised," he replies, and they both share a laugh.
"I have one last question," she says shyly, glancing at him. He gestures for her to continue.
"Your biological mother—where is she?" she asks, her curiosity piqued.
"She's alive and well. She’s with her other family," he answers, his tone matter-of-fact.
"Do you have a good relationship?" she inquires further.
"Yes, we do—like mother and son. I love that woman to death," he says with a warm smile. She nods, smiling back, wishing she could radiate the same joy he feels when talking about his mother.
"You've been asking me questions, Miss Qwane, but I haven’t asked you even one question," he points out, tilting his head slightly.
She shakes her head gently. "There’s nothing interesting I’m going to tell you about me. The only thing interesting is that I’m a lawyer," she says with a hint of modesty. He looks at her thoughtfully, nodding.
"I don’t know your name, Miss Qwane," he says playfully.
"You want to know my name?" she asks, raising an eyebrow as he nods eagerly.
"I mean, you already know mine, don’t you?" he replies with a grin. She nods back, still smiling.
"I have two names, by the way: Riley Ayakha. You already know my surname—Qwane," she explains.
"Nice names! Where did you get the name Riley?" he asks curiously.
"From my father—my father is Coloured," she shares, 
"My father is actually mixed Xhosa and Coloured. His mother is Coloured, and his father is Xhosa. My mother is just Xhosa," she tells him, a hint of pride in her voice as she shares her heritage.
"Ohh, I see..." he responds thoughtfully, processing the information.
"You don’t seem to be in a rush today," he observes, glancing at her with curiosity. She nods.
"I'm not," she replies simply.
"I see. Ain't you hungry?" he asks, his stomach grumbling softly after hours of conversation.
"I am very hungry," she admits, a playful smile creeping onto her face.
"What would you like to eat, Riley?" he asks, emphasizing her name with a slight Zulu accent. She chuckles at the way he pronounces it.
"Did I pronounce it right?" he asks with a hint of concern. She nods, giggling at his earnestness.
"I would love to eat the same food you’re having," she says, her eyes sparkling with anticipation.
"Are you sure you want to eat pumpkin and brown bread with starch?" he asks, raising an eyebrow in surprise. She nods enthusiastically, and they both burst into laughter at the thought of their unique meal choice.
He gets up, moving towards the door. "Let me tell the warden to prepare something for us," he says before opening the door and calling out for their meal. The anticipation of food adds a light-hearted energy to their conversation as they wait for their food.

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RILEY

After leaving the prison, she drives to the mall, picking up a few things before heading home. She reflects on her time with Mangaliso, admitting to herself that she has a great time. She’s never had conversations with her clients like this before. Plus, Mazibuko’s son is genuinely interesting; she’s glad she got to ask him the questions that have been on her mind.
As she navigates the parking lot, her thoughts drift back to him. He seems like a good person, and she wonders why people have beef with him. It doesn’t add up in her mind—he’s not a bad guy at all. In fact, he looks like he could never harm even an ant. A smile forms on her lips as she recalls his laughter and the way he engaged with her. She shakes her head slightly, still pondering the complexities of his situation as she pulls into her driveway.

She takes the plastic bags and her purse, locking her car behind her as she heads to the house. The familiar creak of the door greets her as she unlocks it and steps inside, closing it firmly behind her. She places the items on the kitchen counter, turning around to find herself startled by a figure standing in front of her.
Her heart races as she scans the room, bewildered by how this person got in without her hearing a thing. “Who are you?” she asks, her voice shaky. The man doesn’t respond. Instead, he raises his hands and suddenly grips her throat, squeezing tightly. Panic surges through her as she struggles against his strength.
“If you don’t stop what you’re doing, I will kill you next time I come back!” he growls from behind a mask.
Desperation fuels her words.
“There are cameras in this house! I’m going to show it to the court!” she manages to say, even as his grip tightens around her neck.
The man’s hold softens slightly as he glances around, searching for the cameras but failing to spot any. Seizing the moment, she yanks down his mask just enough to catch a glimpse of his face. But before she can get a good look, he shoves her away and rushes for the door.
He pauses just before exiting, turning back to stare at her with an intensity that sends chills down her spine. 
“If you value your life, you will not show up at court for Mazibuko next week.” With that chilling warning, he disappears out the door.
Gasping for breath and clutching her neck, she slides down against the kitchen counter , coughing as shock washes over her. The reality of what just happened sinks in, leaving her trembling and alone in the silence of her house.
 Just then, the door flies open, and her heart drops as she looks at the group of people walking in, all dressed in black and brandishing guns. Panic washes over her, and tears well up in her eyes. 
“Who are you?” she asks, her voice trembling with fear. The room feels suffocating, and dread grips her as thoughts race through her mind. Is she dying today?
The figures exchange glances, their faces shrouded in shadows, and for a moment, the world around her blurs. She can feel her heartbeat pounding in her ears as they step closer, the weight of their presence sending waves of terror through her. She swallows hard, desperately hoping for a way out of this nightmare as she fights to keep her voice steady.
“Please… don’t hurt me,” she pleads, unsure if they even hear her over the thundering of her own heart.

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