AYATHANDO🤍

Previously

…Thandolwethu, ever the pragmatist with a heart full of dreams, would trace the constellations with a slender finger, her brow furrowed in gentle contemplation. “Perhaps, Ayanda. Or perhaps they are the eyes of our ancestors, watching over us, guiding us.” Their laughter, when it erupted, was a cascade of pure, unadulterated joy, a sound that echoed through the quiet garden, chasing away any lingering shadows. They would tumble among the wildflowers, their skirts brushing against dew-kissed petals, their hands clasped tightly, a