Rebecca leaned the mop against the wall
and sat on the edge of the bed,
watching me play with Olerato.
It was the way she looked at us —
soft, proud, relieved —
that made me realize she had been carrying fear too,
not just for me,
but for us.
“You’re not the same man from a few months ago,”
she said finally,
her voice almost a whisper.
I lifted my eyes to meet hers.
“How do you mean?”
She smiled —
not a big smile,
just a deep, knowing one.
“You don’t walk like someone running from their past anymore,”
she said.
“You walk like someone who’s ready for their future.”
Her words sat with me.
And she was right.
I wasn’t checking over my shoulder.
I wasn’t waking up shaking.
I wasn’t jumping when people called my name.
The cleansing had done something inside me —
somethin
