85

SIPHOSAKHE LUTHANGO

I had just dropped my Nana at my parents' house, and as I stood there for a moment, I noticed the way my father was looking at me, his eyes carrying nothing but regret, the kind that sits heavy and silent, saying all the words he has never managed to speak. My mother, on the other hand, together with my sister, were glowing with happiness as they welcomed Zimkitha into the house, fussing over her, touching her hands, smiling at her as if she already belonged there, and that sight alone made something settle deep inside my chest.