CHAPTER 58

NARRATOR.

The clapping stops. Silence rushes in to replace it—thick, suffocating, heavy with truth. Qondisiwe swallows hard, her throat suddenly dry. Ncanezwe doesn't move closer. He doesn't shout. He doesn't raise his hand. That alone terrifies her more than any anger ever could. He steps forward once. Just once.

"I heard everything," he says calmly.

Each word lands with precision, like a blade placed carefully against skin. Not rushed. Not emotional. Controlled.