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CHAPTER TWO

PROMISE

My grandmother Gogo’s voice is in my head even before Zi throws the first handful of dirt on her grave. Don’t forget your promise, Khosi. Don’t forget.

Dust chokes my throat as I turn away. A speck of dirt flies into my eye and I rub until it’s raw. Tears drip down my cheeks. Even the woman keening or the call and response of the others in the crowd, mourning the loss of my grandmother, can’t drown out her voice. The priest in his black robes stands in front of her grave, leading the people in prayer, and still, I hear her voice over the ancient words of the church, chanted by a hundred mourners.

You promised, Khosi. You promised. Don’t forget.

It’s true, before she died, I promised Gogo exactly two things. They seemed small at the time. If I’d known what it meant to make those promises, I would have kept my mouth shut. But I said yes. And now I can’t back out. The dead have access to me twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. They hound me with their commands. Do this. Do that. Go there. Fetch that. And Gogo’s dead now. So I have no escape. She will harass me until I do what I said I would do.

I take my sister Zi’s hand. She looks up at me, total trust reflected back in her eyes.

Zi’s nine. I’m only seventeen but I’m all she has left—Mama dead for three years and Gogo three days now. Baba has never been involved in our lives, even less so after Mama passed.

OK, Gogo. I’ll keep my promises. I’ll keep them, even if it kills me.