9
Sunday, 14 July
The rain pelted against the window. It was strange weather for this time of year. Winters in Pretoria were usually brown and dry but then again, nothing about the last five weeks had been normal. Nico watched the lightning split the sky from the safety of the lounge window in his seventh-floor flat in Weavind Park. Another Sunday night was upon him. He turned his back on the deluge outside and tried to get the storm raging inside under control.
He watched Janet’s rhythmic breathing as she slept curled up on his old couch. His gaze turned to the framed photo hanging on the wall opposite him. It had Police College class of 1989 written in white letters on a blackboard at the feet of the two young men sitting in the front row. Actually, they weren’t men, they were still b
