The USB
Morning came quietly.
Not with dramatic thunder or sudden rain — just a pale grey sky slipping through the broken office window of the abandoned laundromat. Dust floated lazily in the light, settling on old washing machines like forgotten memories.
Dombi sat up slowly, her body stiff from sleeping on the cold floor.
Her mind felt even stiffer — heavy with questions, heavier with fear.
But today…
today she would stop guessing.
Today she would open the USB.
She tucked the file safely into her backpack and looked around the hideout. The silence was almost too perfect. Cars passed outside, but no footsteps, no voices, no sign of Mandla's men.
Still, she knew better than to trust silence.
She needed a place with:
An old computer
No cameras
No registration
No digital trail
A place society had forgotten.
Only one came to mind.
The community library in Old Pretoria Station.
The one with peeling walls and computers so old they wheezed like smokers.
No one tracked anything there — half the screens didn't even load properly.
She left the laundromat quietly, sticking to crowded streets, walking like someone with somewhere to be but not someone worth noticing.
When she reached the library, the building looked even sadder than she remembered. The paint faded. Windows dusty. A crooked sign that said FREE WI-FI even though everyone knew the Wi-Fi never worked.
Perfect.
She stepped inside.
The air smelled of old books and cheap floor polish. A librarian with tired eyes glanced up, nodded, and went back to reading her magazine.
Dombi headed to the back corner where the computers stood in a row, humming softly like old men complaining.
She chose the one furthest from the door.
Sat down.
Took a breath.
And pulled out the USB.
Her fingers shook slightly as she plugged it in.
The screen flickered.
Loaded.
A folder popped up:
NTULI LEGACY — CONFIDENTIAL
Her stomach tightened.
She clicked it open.
Inside were three files:
1. Video File — "Truth_1.mp4"
2. Document — "Boardroom Leak.pdf"
3. Document — "Dombi_Trust_Deed.pdf"
Her breathing changed.
Slow. Sharp. Controlled.
She opened the video first.
The screen turned black for a second…
then her father appeared.
Younger than she remembered, but with tired eyes.
The same eyes she saw in the mirror when she didn't sleep.
He looked straight into the camera.
Her Father's Message
"Dombi… my princess…"
His voice cracked on her name.
"If you are watching this, then they got to me. Or they tried. I don't know how much time I have, so listen carefully."
He swallowed hard, glancing over his shoulder before continuing.
"Your mother and I built something powerful. Too powerful. And people we trusted… people we loved… wanted to take it."
Her heart dropped.
He leaned closer to the camera.
"It wasn't an accident, Dombi. The brakes… they were tampered with. Gugu knows. Mandla knows. And the board—"
The video glitched.
Static.
A flash of distorted sound.
Then came back.
Your father's voice was lower now, urgent.
"They plan to put you under their control when you're older. They think you're naïve. They think you're weak. You must prove them wrong."
Another breath.
Another look over his shoulder.
"Molefe is the only one I trust. He will guide you, if he is alive. If not… everything you need is on this USB."
He paused.
"I love you. More than any company. More than any legacy. You deserve the truth. And you will finish what your mother and I started."
Static swallowed the video.
The screen froze.
Dombi sat there frozen too, tears sliding down her cheeks before she even felt them.
Her father knew.
He always knew.
Someone behind her cleared their throat softly — making her nearly jump out of her seat.
It was just the librarian.
But fear had already wrapped around her ribcage.
She turned back to the screen and opened the second file:
"Boardroom Leak.pdf"
Her eyes widened.
Emails.
Transactions.
Secret meetings.
Board members signing documents behind her parents' backs.
And at the center of it all:
Mandla M. Khumalo — Acting Chairperson (after incident)
Gugu Ntuli — Silent Collaborator
Her hands shook.
She opened the final file.
"Dombi_Trust_Deed.pdf"
She read the first line.
Her entire body went cold.
"Dombikazi M. Ntuli — rightful heir to 72% of Ntuli Group Holdings."
She wasn't just a daughter.
She wasn't just surviving.
She was the majority heir.
Everything Mandla fought for.
Everything Gugu hid.
Everything Molefe died to protect.
Belonged to her.
Before she could scroll down, a shadow passed over the computer screen.
A reflection.
Someone standing behind her.
Watching her.
Her blood turned to ice.
Slowly, she lifted her eyes to the monitor — focusing on the glassy reflection.
A tall figure.
A man.
Not Mandla.
Someone she didn't recognize.
But he leaned toward her and whispered:
"You shouldn't have opened that."...