@.durban.now:

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Friday 18 September 2026 15:21:03 GMT

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u_mashozi❤ :

human affairs

2026-09-18 21:27:17

3

F●X :

Berea College of Technology, my second home...

2026-09-19 05:08:47

0

nonjabss_joker :

nansi taxi yase Chesterville idlula eNew York ,kabe itholakalaphi

2026-09-18 18:17:10

142

Siyanda :

ITheku lethu[Fire][Fire][Fire][Fire]

2026-09-19 04:51:59

0

Phakathwayo🍃 :

It's not New York unless you see the fastest car in the world and you know that New York is our beautiful city 😎

2026-09-19 03:28:58

7

Lwande Langa butera :

No cause in a few months we’re coming to New York 😂😂🤷🏾‍♀️

2026-09-18 21:34:30

10

Sibongile M🫦 :

Superspar 👀😂 ucashile

2026-09-19 05:03:38

0

SALover🇿🇦🇿🇦 :

Miss Durban

2026-09-19 04:20:36

1

MaMkhatshwa💗. :

Ngath seNEW York ngampela 😳

2026-09-19 04:31:02

3

Neliswa :

Kshuthi ngfunda e New York 😭😂

2026-09-19 05:14:40

0

Smahlezi :

kwelabhanana madoda 🙂‍↔️🔥🔥

2026-09-18 16:31:31

10

SENGIKHONA :

Looks like Rome

2026-09-19 05:16:24

0

@Steven mlaba :

ise Workshop la new York yani

2026-09-19 04:50:07

0

magumede :

I new York engsebenza kyona Berea tech ♥️

2026-09-19 04:54:30

0

Asanda Duma :

🤣🤣😅

2026-09-19 01:36:41

0

enhleso :

I can se the statue of liberty 🗽🤭

2026-09-18 18:14:50

9

🥷🏿uMaphumulo :

angifun Kwakusbona lesoskole.

2026-09-18 21:19:54

3

Pink Skies • ZN :

Um'chamo onuka la😭😭😭

2026-09-19 01:59:24

3

Simphiwe :

031 🇮🇹 namaphethelo 🔥

2026-09-19 04:36:45

0

Number 1 :

cbd

2026-09-18 23:50:58

0

Nombuso Langa :

Noma kuthiwani kuseworkshop phela lana😁😂kodwa ke ubuNew York bona sinabo bandla😁especially nakukade kunetha😂

2026-09-18 23:26:22

0

khanyisaniphungu66 :

mmmmh cc wase New York usevukile

2026-09-19 04:14:16

0

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#anime

Replying to @Vicky PART 3 Min-jun wasn’t in Busan — the housekeeper said he was in Seoul on business. But when he got the news, he stormed into the police station in an expensive suit. I recognized him from wedding photos, older now. Tall, impeccable, false calm. When he saw me, his eyes narrowed. He didn’t look surprised. That scared me more. Clara stood beside me. “You had no right to come here,” he said in English, thinking he’d intimidate me. “My name is Helena. I am Isabella’s mother. And I am the grandmother of those children. I have every right in the world.” Clara translated. He smiled with contempt. “Isabella left. She abandoned them. She was unstable.” When Clara translated that, my blood boiled. “My daughter didn’t abandon anyone. You buried her alive before making her disappear.” His mask cracked for a second. Eun-ji saw it too. What followed was war. Min-jun produced documents saying Isabella was mentally ill, and letters where she supposedly said she wanted to leave alone. The handwriting wasn’t hers. I knew it instantly and demanded a comparison with her real letters. Sophia testified. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever seen. With Daniel holding her hand, she told the psychologist she remembered her mom crying in the kitchen, her dad shouting. The night her mom packed a red suitcase and said they were going to America to see Grandma Helena. Dad came home early. A blow. Then her mom whispered: “Don’t leave the room, no matter what happens.” The next morning, Mom was gone. Daniel remembered something else: a bracelet. “Mom had a bracelet with a cross. Dad threw it in the lake.” “What lake?” Eun-ji asked. He drew trees and a small house. Mrs. Han trembled. She recognized it — an old Park family property near a reservoir. With the letters, inconsistencies, financial transfers, and the children’s testimonies, the police reopened the case. I went with them. Winter air that cut the skin. Sophia and Daniel stayed in Seoul with Clara and Mrs. Han. Hours passed searching damp earth. Then, near an old shed, an officer found it. Not a body. Thank God. A red suitcase, half-buried under rotten planks. Inside: children’s clothes, passports, birth certificates, dollars, and a blue notebook. Isabella’s notebook. Eun-ji let me open it. The first line made me fall: “If anyone finds this, my name is Isabella Duarte. I am American. I did not abandon my children.” That night Min-jun hit her and locked her in the shed. He forced her to sign papers and threatened the children. Then he moved her to a private clinic with a doctor friend, registered under a false name as a psychiatric patient. My daughter was alive. The notebook named the clinic — a small city to the north. Eun-ji got an order. We went with police and the American consulate. The clinic looked like a sad hotel. White walls, trimmed gardens, closed windows. “No Isabella Duarte here,” they said. Then Eun-ji gave the false name from the notebook. The receptionist turned pale. We waited in a hallway smelling of disinfectant. Then a door opened. A nurse pushing a wheelchair. There she was. Thinner, so thin. Hair long, with gray strands that didn’t belong to her 33 years. Gaze lost. “Isa…” I whispered. She lifted her head. “Mom?” I was on my knees, hugging her, crying like a child. “My love, my girl… I’m here, forgive me…” “I knew you’d come,” she whispered. “But you came.” “I came to take you home.” The investigation proved it all: falsified diagnoses, invented consents, altered records. Min-jun hadn’t killed her because dead she would raise questions; locked up, he kept control. When Sophia and Daniel saw her in a protected room, the world broke and mended at once. “Mom…” Sophia stood white as a sheet. ‘’ My baby..’’ Sophia ran and cried. Daniel followed. The three collapsed on the sofa, Isabella kissing their faces to prove they were real. “Forgive me, my love. I didn’t leave you. I never left you “ “ l knew,” Sophia sobbed. “ I knew you didn’t want to leave “. Final part to be continued 🥰 follow up for final.#fyp

Replying to @Vicky PART 3 Min-jun wasn’t in Busan — the housekeeper said he was in Seoul on business. But when he got the news, he stormed into the police station in an expensive suit. I recognized him from wedding photos, older now. Tall, impeccable, false calm. When he saw me, his eyes narrowed. He didn’t look surprised. That scared me more. Clara stood beside me. “You had no right to come here,” he said in English, thinking he’d intimidate me. “My name is Helena. I am Isabella’s mother. And I am the grandmother of those children. I have every right in the world.” Clara translated. He smiled with contempt. “Isabella left. She abandoned them. She was unstable.” When Clara translated that, my blood boiled. “My daughter didn’t abandon anyone. You buried her alive before making her disappear.” His mask cracked for a second. Eun-ji saw it too. What followed was war. Min-jun produced documents saying Isabella was mentally ill, and letters where she supposedly said she wanted to leave alone. The handwriting wasn’t hers. I knew it instantly and demanded a comparison with her real letters. Sophia testified. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever seen. With Daniel holding her hand, she told the psychologist she remembered her mom crying in the kitchen, her dad shouting. The night her mom packed a red suitcase and said they were going to America to see Grandma Helena. Dad came home early. A blow. Then her mom whispered: “Don’t leave the room, no matter what happens.” The next morning, Mom was gone. Daniel remembered something else: a bracelet. “Mom had a bracelet with a cross. Dad threw it in the lake.” “What lake?” Eun-ji asked. He drew trees and a small house. Mrs. Han trembled. She recognized it — an old Park family property near a reservoir. With the letters, inconsistencies, financial transfers, and the children’s testimonies, the police reopened the case. I went with them. Winter air that cut the skin. Sophia and Daniel stayed in Seoul with Clara and Mrs. Han. Hours passed searching damp earth. Then, near an old shed, an officer found it. Not a body. Thank God. A red suitcase, half-buried under rotten planks. Inside: children’s clothes, passports, birth certificates, dollars, and a blue notebook. Isabella’s notebook. Eun-ji let me open it. The first line made me fall: “If anyone finds this, my name is Isabella Duarte. I am American. I did not abandon my children.” That night Min-jun hit her and locked her in the shed. He forced her to sign papers and threatened the children. Then he moved her to a private clinic with a doctor friend, registered under a false name as a psychiatric patient. My daughter was alive. The notebook named the clinic — a small city to the north. Eun-ji got an order. We went with police and the American consulate. The clinic looked like a sad hotel. White walls, trimmed gardens, closed windows. “No Isabella Duarte here,” they said. Then Eun-ji gave the false name from the notebook. The receptionist turned pale. We waited in a hallway smelling of disinfectant. Then a door opened. A nurse pushing a wheelchair. There she was. Thinner, so thin. Hair long, with gray strands that didn’t belong to her 33 years. Gaze lost. “Isa…” I whispered. She lifted her head. “Mom?” I was on my knees, hugging her, crying like a child. “My love, my girl… I’m here, forgive me…” “I knew you’d come,” she whispered. “But you came.” “I came to take you home.” The investigation proved it all: falsified diagnoses, invented consents, altered records. Min-jun hadn’t killed her because dead she would raise questions; locked up, he kept control. When Sophia and Daniel saw her in a protected room, the world broke and mended at once. “Mom…” Sophia stood white as a sheet. ‘’ My baby..’’ Sophia ran and cried. Daniel followed. The three collapsed on the sofa, Isabella kissing their faces to prove they were real. “Forgive me, my love. I didn’t leave you. I never left you “ “ l knew,” Sophia sobbed. “ I knew you didn’t want to leave “. Final part to be continued 🥰 follow up for final.#fyp

công việc trả tiền trong ngày là đây nhá. 😃 mùa cấy vất vả tí thôi nhưng rôm rả k hết chuyện.Quê ai Cấy lúa kiểu chăng dây giống quê tui hông?

công việc trả tiền trong ngày là đây nhá. 😃 mùa cấy vất vả tí thôi nhưng rôm rả k hết chuyện.Quê ai Cấy lúa kiểu chăng dây giống quê tui hông?

#السعودية 🇸🇦 ومصر 🇪🇬 فخر العرب والمسلمين 🫶🏻

#السعودية 🇸🇦 ومصر 🇪🇬 فخر العرب والمسلمين 🫶🏻

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