WebNovels

Chapter 5 - The Keyholder

First Part

The door did not swing open with violence, but with a weary, familiar sigh. And standing in the frame, backlit by the harsh fluorescent light of the hallway, was not Sbu's broad, anxious silhouette, but Lerato's. Her best friend. Her personal ghost, now made flesh.

For a heart-stopping second, neither of them moved. Thembi stood frozen by the desk, the damning audio note still echoing in the silent chamber of her mind. I didn't come home alone. Lerato stood in the doorway, one hand still on the key in the lock, the other holding a brown paper bag from the corner café that smelled of greasy vetkoek and salvation. Her face, usually a canvas of vibrant confidence, was puffy and pale, her carefully applied makeup smudged into raccoon rings around her eyes. She'd been crying.

"By God, Thembi," Lerato breathed, her voice raspy with relief and exhaustion. "Why didn't you answer your phone? I've been calling all morning. I thought… I don't know what I thought."

She stepped inside, letting the door swing shut behind her with a soft, final click. The sound was the sealing of a tomb. Thembi was now trapped with her best friend and her worst secret.

Lerato's eyes, sharp and miss-nothing, did a quick, professional scan of the apartment. They took in the empty bottle on the carpet, the spilled purse, the two wine glasses on the table. They lingered on Thembi's dishevelled state—the UCT hoodie, the bare legs, the wild, morning-after hair. Her gaze was not judgmental, but clinical, like a mechanic assessing a damaged engine.

"You look like hell warmed over," Lerato stated, her tone flat. She dropped her keys and the paper bag on the small console table by the door. The familiar jingle of the keychain—a tiny, brass Eiffel Tower from a dream trip they'd planned—was a sound from another lifetime.

Thembi's vocal cords seemed to have been severed. She could only stare, her mind a screaming void. Every instinct screamed at her to usher Lerato out, to make an excuse, to get her away from the contamination of this place. But her body was locked in place, a deer in the headlights of Lerato's concerned, penetrating stare.

"I… I was in the shower," Thembi finally managed, the lie tasting like ash on her tongue. "I didn't hear the phone."

Lerato's eyes flicked towards the dry, clean strands of Thembi's hair, then down to her bare, unshowered legs. She didn't call her out. She just nodded slowly, a deep sadness in her expression. "Okay. Okay. I brought you some vetkoek. You need to eat. And we need to talk."

She moved into the living room, her movements weary, and sank onto the sofa, right where Thembi had been huddled in panic minutes before. She didn't seem to notice the tiny, dried specks of blood on the floor from Thembi's cut hands. She just leaned forward, elbows on her knees, and buried her face in her hands for a moment. "Jesus, Thembs. Last night."

Thembi remained standing, her arms wrapped tightly around her middle. She could feel the presence in the bathroom like a physical pressure, a cold spot in the apartment's atmosphere. It was screaming at her. I'm here. I'm here. And she's here.

"What about last night?" Thembi asked, her voice a fragile thread.

Lerato looked up, her eyes glistening. "What about it? You were a mess, girl. A complete mess. I've never seen you like that. The fight with Sbu… you were so cruel. And then you just left. Alone. After all those tequilas? I was sick with worry."

Flash: Shoving Lerato's hand away. The look of hurt on her face. "Leave me alone! All of you, just fuck off!"

Guilt, hot and acidic, joined the churning cocktail of fear in her gut. "I'm sorry," Thembi whispered, and she meant it. The apology was for so much more than a rude gesture in a club.

"It's not me you need to apologize to," Lerato said, shaking her head. "It's Sbu. He was worried sick. He called me ten times after you left. Then he called again this morning, saying you wouldn't let him in. He's hurting, Thembi."

"I know," Thembi said, the words automatic. Her eyes kept darting towards the hallway. Was the bathroom door fully closed? What if Lerato needed to pee? The thought was so terrifying it made her dizzy.

"Do you?" Lerato challenged, a spark of her old fire returning. "Because from where I'm sitting, you don't seem to care. This… this shutting down. This is what your dad does, you know? You're so busy running from becoming him, you're turning into him anyway."

The mention of her father was a scalpel, expertly inserted into her most tender wound. It was a low blow, and Lerato knew it, but it was also the truth they never spoke. Her father, the stern, unyielding patriarch in Soweto, whose love was a conditional contract she could never fulfil. His silence was his weapon, and now, here she was, using it herself.

"This isn't about my father," Thembi snapped, a flicker of real anger cutting through the fear.

"Isn't it?" Lerato pressed, her voice rising. "You think this is just about a university squabble? Your little rivalry with Kagiso? Wake up, Thembi! This is about you burning your whole life down because you're so fucking scared that if you stop, if you actually have to be still and feel things, you'll crumble!"

Kagiso. The name hung in the air between them, toxic and undeniable. Thembi's breath hitched. She saw Lerato's eyes narrow, noticing the reaction.

"Speaking of," Lerato said, her tone dropping, becoming graver. "That's the other thing. The real reason I came over. Sbu said he told you… Kagiso is missing."

Thembi said nothing. She just stared, hoping her face was a blank slate.

"Her roommate, Precious, she called me this morning," Lerato continued, watching her closely. "Kagiso never came home last night. Precious said she was upset when she left Vudu. Said she was going to… confront you. To clear the air."

A dry, soundless laugh rattled in Thembi's chest. Clear the air. The irony was so thick she could choke on it.

"Did she come here, Thembi?" Lerato asked the question, the same question Sbu had asked. But this time, it was different. This wasn't a boyfriend's worried query. This was her best friend, the human lie detector who knew her better than she knew herself, looking for a crack in the facade.

Thembi's mind raced. Deny it. Deny it completely. But what if someone had seen Kagiso come in? What if there was CCTV in the building? A lie now could be catastrophic later.

"She… she might have," Thembi whispered, the partial truth feeling like a betrayal. "I was so drunk, Lera. My memory is… it's patches. I remember someone being here. Arguing. I think it was her."

Lerato's face fell, the anger draining away to be replaced by a deeper, more profound worry. "Oh, Thembi. What did you do?"

"Nothing!" The word came out too fast, too sharp. "I mean, I don't know! We argued, I think. And then… I must have passed out. When I woke up, she was gone." The lies were coming easier now, slithering out, building a fragile cage around the truth.

Lerato studied her, her gaze lingering on Thembi's trembling hands, the sweat beading on her upper lip despite the coolness of the apartment. "You're shaking."

"I'm hungover. And I'm scared," Thembi said, and this, at least, was the absolute truth. "If she's missing, and the last person she was with was me… with everyone knowing we hate each other…"

Lerato stood up and walked over to her, placing a firm, warm hand on her arm. The contact was almost painful in its normality. "Listen to me. We will figure this out. But you have to be straight with me. Did anything happen? Did you hurt her?"

Thembi looked into her best friend's eyes, the eyes that had seen her through every triumph and failure since they were sixteen. She saw only concern, only a desperate desire to help. And in that moment, the weight of it all became unbearable. The confession bubbled up in her throat, a terrifying pressure. She's in the bathroom, Lera. She's dead and I don't know how and I think it might be my fault.

But the words wouldn't come. The survival instinct, cold and reptilian, clamped down. To confess was to end everything. To drag Lerato into this nightmare. To see the love in those eyes turn to horror and fear.

"No," Thembi choked out, looking away, breaking the intense eye contact. "I didn't hurt her. We argued. She left. That's all I remember."

Lerato searched her face for a long, agonizing moment. Then, she sighed, a sound of utter exhaustion. "Okay. Okay. I believe you." She didn't sound entirely convinced. "But Precious already went to the campus security. They've filed a missing person's report. The real police are involved now, Thembi. It's not just us anymore."

The world tilted another few degrees on its axis. The police. The word was a death knell. They wouldn't ask nicely. They wouldn't accept fragmented memories and panicked lies. They would take one look at the public animosity, at her drunken state, and they would see a killer.

"I need to use your bathroom," Lerato said, turning and taking a step towards the hallway. "I think I'm gonna be sick from all this stress."

No. The word was a silent scream that tore through every neuron in Thembi's brain. No no no no no.

"Wait!" Thembi's voice was a strangled shriek.

Lerato stopped, turning back, startled by the sheer, unvarnished terror in the sound.

Thembi's mind scrambled, a computer overloading. She couldn't physically stop her. She couldn't say the bathroom was flooded, the toilet broken—Lerato would just offer to call the landlord. There was no excuse. There was no way out.

"I… I think I'm going to be sick," Thembi gasped, clutching her own stomach, putting on a performance of pathetic, hungover illness. "You can use the one downstairs. In the lobby. Please, Lera. I just… I need a minute."

She didn't wait for an answer. She turned and fled, not towards the bathroom, but into her bedroom, slamming the door shut and locking it. She leaned against it, her heart trying to batter its way out of her chest. She heard Lerato's hesitant footsteps pause outside the bedroom door.

"Thembi? Are you okay?"

"Just go!" Thembi cried, her voice cracking with real, hysterical tears. "Please, just go use the one downstairs! I'll call you later, I promise!"

A long, heavy silence. Thembi pressed her ear against the wood, listening for the sound of the front door opening. Instead, she heard Lerato's footsteps retreating… but not towards the front door. They were moving down the hallway. Towards the kitchen? Towards the…?

*No.

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