Lynn had learned to read the silence.
There was a different kind of quiet tonight. The kind that made the hairs on her arms rise. Even the breeze outside had stopped.
She closed her laptop and walked to the window. No one in sight.
Then — three knocks at the door.
Not rushed. Not hesitant.
Deliberate.
She checked the peephole.
A man in a charcoal suit, face calm but dead in the eyes. No badge. No smile.
She didn't open the door.
> "Lynn Khumalo," he said, voice flat. "Open the door. We need to talk."
> "You can talk through the door."
> "It's about your life."
Her heart thudded once.
Then, she smiled.
> "If you're here to kill me, you won't talk first. If you're here to scare me, you're wasting your breath."
> "You're smarter than that," he said. "But smart women die too."
There was a pause.
> "Leave Mokoena alone. That's your only warning."
> "And if I don't?"
He stepped closer to the door. His tone didn't rise, but it got darker.
> "Then your little 'team' becomes history. Michael. Vusi. Your sister. We know everything."
He slipped an envelope under the door and walked away.
Lynn waited until the footsteps faded before she picked it up. Inside were photos — Michael at his gym. Vusi with his daughter. Her own sister at school.
She didn't flinch. But her breath caught in her throat.
This wasn't just a warning.
It was a war declaration.
---
Hours later...
Michael arrived and found Lynn burning the photos in a metal bowl.
> "What happened?"
> "Mokoena blinked," she said, eyes locked on the flame. "He's scared."
> "Are you okay?"
Lynn smiled faintly. "I was waiting for this. Now I know where to strike next."
---
Somewhere across town…
Mokoena lit a cigar.
> "Let's see how brave she is when her people start falling."
But what he didn't know was — Lynn wasn't planning to defend.
She was already planning her revenge.