3
3THAT EVENING
SOKHULU HOUSEHOLD
The Sokulu family sat in their modest kitchen, the hum of the old fridge filling the silence. The table was set with chipped plates, and a single candle flickered in the center, a necessity during frequent power outages. Lwandle leaned back in his chair, excitement lighting up his face as he munched on a biscuit.
Lwandle: This school is amazing, Ma! I’ve already signed up for soccer tryouts, and the library… It’s huge! I feel like I could live in it. Did you see the art studio? I swear, it looks like something out of a movie!
Lindelwa: (rolling her eyes) Big whoop, Lwandle. Who cares about the library or the art studio when we’ve left everything behind? My friends, my school, everything! And for what?
Lindelwa’s tone was sharp, her arms crossed as she slouched in her chair. Her school uniform hung awkwardly, a little too big, contrasting with her perfectly manicured nails—one of the few remnants of her old life.
Zanele: (sighing and leaning against the sink) Lindelwa, we’ve been through this. This move is for your own good. You’ll understand when you’re older.
The dim light caught the streaks of gray in Zanele’s tightly braided hair. Her voice was calm but carried the weight of secrets she wasn’t ready to share.
Lindelwa: (slamming her hands on the table) You keep saying that, Ma! But you’re not telling us why. Why this fancy school? Why now? Why couldn’t we stay where we were?
Zanele: (walking over and placing a hand on Lindelwa’s shoulder) Not everything is for you to know right now, my girl. Trust me, this is where you’re meant to be.
Lwandle: (trying to lighten the mood, grabbing another biscuit) Can’t we just be grateful? Ma’s doing this for us, Lindelwa.
Lindelwa: (snapping back) Grateful for what? Being uprooted? I didn’t ask for any of this!
Zanele knelt beside Lindelwa, brushing her daughter’s braids back with tender hands.
Zanele: (softly) You’ll see, my girl. In time, you’ll see.
Lindelwa turned away, her expression a storm of anger and confusion. Across the table, Lwandle avoided her glare and bit into another biscuit, pretending not to notice.
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THE JACK HOUSEHOLD
The dining room of the Jack mansion was a masterpiece of modern luxury. A crystal chandelier sparkled overhead, casting a golden glow on the long mahogany table. Silverware gleamed under the soft light, and three servers moved silently around the room, placing dishes before the family with military precision.
Jennifer: (elegantly cutting into her steak, glancing at Masi) So, darling, how was your first day?
Masi adjusted the napkin on her lap, her posture straight as always. Her voice was measured, but there was a flicker of excitement in her eyes.
Masi: It was… interesting. Kiara approached me with a business proposal yesterday. She wants our families to collaborate on a joint venture.
Jennifer’s fork paused mid-air, her perfectly arched eyebrows shooting up in surprise.
Jennifer: (sharply) Absolutely not.
Masi tilted her head, a subtle challenge in her gaze.
Masi: You haven’t even heard the details yet.
Jennifer: (setting her fork down with a clink) I don’t need to. The Setshoanes are a disaster waiting to happen. Bankrupt, scandalous… And that husband of hers? Everyone knows he can’t keep his hands to himself.
Across the table, Kwanele finally looked up from his plate. His expression was calm, but his tone carried authority.
Kwanele: Katleho should stick to what he knows—fashion. I don’t see how that mixes with what we do. We’re a tech empire. There’s no synergy.
Masi gave a small nod.
Masi: I told her we’d consider it, but I’ll decline.
Jennifer: (pleased) Good girl. Now, tell me more about your day. Any new faces at school?
Masi: Yes. There are twins—Lwandle and Lindelwa Sokhulu. They’re… different.
Jennifer frowned, swirling the wine in her glass.
Jennifer: (in disdain) Poor, you can say it, I imagine. Why would a school like yours admit such charity cases? It’s embarrassing, really.
Kwanele, who had been quiet until now, set his knife down carefully.
Jennifer: (turning to him, annoyed) What? You’ve been unusually quiet tonight.
Kwanele: (without looking up) I’m tired. Work has been… demanding.
Masi’s sharp eyes flicked between her parents. She caught the shift in energy, the tension crackling like static electricity, but said nothing. Instead, she resumed eating, her mind turning over the events of the day.
---
THE SETSHOANE HOUSEHOLD
The Setshoane estate was a sprawling white mansion with balconies overlooking an infinity pool. Katlego sat poolside with Natasha, his young assistant, their laughter floating up to the third-floor balcony where Kiara stood.
Kiara: (storming into the living room) Why do you let him do this?
Her mother, Naledi, was sitting by the large bay window, a glass of wine in her hand. She didn’t turn to face Kiara.
Naledi: (calmly) You don’t understand, Kiara.
Kiara: (fuming) Then make me understand! Why do you let him walk all over you? He’s flaunting her right in your face!
Naledi finally turned, her eyes tired but resolute.
Naledi: This is how things are, Kiara. You’re too young to see the bigger picture.
Kiara: (snapping) That’s all you ever say!
She stormed out, her heels clicking against the marble floor as she climbed the stairs to her room.
From her balcony, she looked down at her father and Natasha, their carefree laughter a stark contrast to the storm brewing inside her. With a frustrated sigh, she turned away and threw herself onto her bed.
Shoeboxes and shopping bags were scattered across the floor, untouched since her spree the previous weekend. Kiara sat up, grabbed the nearest box, and began unboxing her haul: designer sneakers, diamond-studded earrings, and limited-edition handbags.
She arranged them on her bed, snapping photos from every angle. Her fingers moved quickly as she uploaded a picture to Instagram.
Kiara’s caption: A little something for the weekend #forthegram
Her notifications pinged incessantly as the likes and comments flooded in.
@trendylover: Obsessed .
@jealousyenvy: Rich girl goals .
@designerfiend: How do you even afford this?! .
For a moment, Kiara smiled, basking in the admiration of her followers. But the sound of her father’s laughter echoed in her mind, shattering the illusion. She closed her phone and lay back, staring at the ceiling, a knot tightening in her chest.
---
THE NEXT DAY
ST. ECHELON'S ACADEMY
Lindelwa clutched her phone tightly as she approached Kiara, who was lounging effortlessly near the cafeteria steps, scrolling through her phone. Her presence was magnetic, her aura commanding attention. A small group lingered nearby, laughing at something she had said moments earlier. Summoning all her courage, Lindelwa walked up, her voice shaking just slightly.
Lindelwa: You’re Kiara, right?
Kiara looked up from her phone, her sharp eyes locking on Lindelwa. She tilted her head, her expression unreadable for a moment, before flashing a perfectly practiced smile.
Kiara: That’s me. What’s up?
Lindelwa: (stammering slightly) I just wanted to say… your content inspires me. I love it.
Kiara’s smile widened, and she straightened her posture, clearly enjoying the compliment.
Kiara: (chuckling lightly) Inspires you? Well, that’s so nice of you. Thank you, though. That’s sweet of you.
Lindelwa: (gaining confidence) I mean it! I saw your haul yesterday—it was amazing. You have such great style.
Kiara: (casually brushing back her hair) Oh, that? Thanks. It was kind of last minute, but I’m glad people liked it.
Lindelwa: I even commented on it. I said, “Obsessed! ”
Kiara: (grinning) Oh, that was you? I did see that. Love the energy.
Lindelwa felt a spark of pride, a sense of belonging she hadn’t felt since starting at this school. She couldn’t believe Kiara had actually noticed her comment.
Kiara: (gesturing with her phone) You know what? Let’s take a picture.
Before Lindelwa could react, Kiara had already slung an arm around her shoulder and raised her phone.
Kiara: (teasingly) Don’t freeze up now. Say ‘influence’!
Lindelwa: (nervously) Influence?
The camera clicked. Kiara immediately started editing the picture, adding a filter and a few sparkles before typing a caption.
Kiara: (typing aloud) “ already meeting the sweetest fans. ”
She tagged Lindelwa’s username and posted it to her story.
Kiara: (showing her the screen) There you go. You’re Insta-official now.
Lindelwa: (beaming) You tagged me? That’s… wow. Thank you!
Kiara: (winking) No problem. Just don’t forget who made you famous.
Lindelwa walked away with a spring in her step, clutching her phone to her chest. Her notifications were already buzzing, and she couldn’t wait to check them.
Kiara, meanwhile, turned back to her phone, scrolling through her DMs as they flooded with responses to the picture.
@ChicLuxe: Who’s the newbie?
@TrendAlert: You’re so nice, Kiara! Charity vibes.
@CrownQueen: A fan? That’s adorable.
Kiara: (smirking) People are so predictable.
She slid her phone into her designer bag and walked away, her heels clicking against the marble floor, already planning her next move.
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