a table among chrysanthemums and incense. He watched the bows of mourning from each visitor.
“We bow once to the living, twice to the dead,” his halmeoni had always told him at his harabeoji’s grave. Jihoon’s grandfather had died before he was born, so greeting his grave had felt natural. But now, each time a mourner bowed a second time to his halmeoni, Jihoon’s heart skipped a beat.
He barely noticed the people who came through to greet him, to eat the funeral food at the tables adjoining the memorial room, to offer condolence money.
His mother stood beside him, greeting each mourner with a demure nod.
He tried to keep up appearances, show that he was a good, dutiful grandson, even as he knew he’d failed his halmeoni. Everything he’d done made her suffer. He refused to be a good student despite her pleas. He went to the PC room after school instead of coming home to help at the restaurant. And she got hurt because of him. She’d given her gi to him. And now she was gone. Because of him.
He glanced at Miyoung, who bustled between the tables of mourners eating the memorial food, clearing dishes and handing out soup. Having her here comforted him, but he didn’t know if he deserved it. His halmeoni was dead because of them.
Maybe if he’d swallowed his pride and called Miyoung back, then she would have told him about the bead. Maybe if Miyoung hadn’t lied and run away, this could have all been solved. Maybe if she’d let him die like he was supposed to, his halmeoni would still be alive.
So many maybes and none of them worth dwelling on, because the fact was his halmeoni was dead and he wasn’t. And he wished with all of his heart that it was the other way around.
65
MIYOUNG SERVED FOOD to the mourners. It was polite for them to eat some before they left—rice, soup, and banchan. She carried around a tray to collect the empty dishes. It was all she could think to do. Even Somin, who served alongside her, didn’t protest Miyoung’s help.
Beside Jihoon, his mother wore a traditional mourning hanbok, with white hemp tying back her hair. Her pale face was drawn. She greeted all of the visitors while standing beside Jihoon, whose eyes were aimed straight ahead, not looking at his mother and not truly focusing on any of the guests. A boy with nothing left he wanted to see.
It was enough to bring tears, but Miyoung held them back. This was no place for her grief.
After everyone left, Miyoung sat awhile, watching Jihoon and his mother in the receiving room, unmoving statues. Jihoon looked like a supplicant in a church, head bowed, so she could see only the dark crown of his head.
“You can go now,” Jihoon said.
His mother didn’t respond, her expression calm.
“I said you can go.” Jihoon’s voice echoed in the empty room.
His mother didn’t reply.
Jihoon finally looked up. “Are you not listening to me?”
“She was my mother.” It came out quiet, but firm.
“Since when do you act like a dutiful daughter?” Jihoon asked. “Were you acknowledging your mother when you let her work her joints raw to take care of me? Or were you being a filial daughter when you left her to rot in the hospital?”
“Jihoon-ah.” Miyoung grabbed his arm. “Stop it.”
He shook her off.
“Tell me,” he said. “Tell me when you cared about her.”
Jihoon’s mother finally faced him, her expression cool as a still lake. “My mother and I had a relationship long before you were born. You do not know how I have held her in my heart.”
“You speak of her as if she died months ago. She didn’t. She’s been alive this whole time. She still could be if you—” Jihoon’s words cut off, his breathing heavy. Miyoung laid a hand on his arm.
“I’d like to speak to my mother alone,” Jihoon said, his face deceptively calm.
Her need to respect his wants warred with her desire to comfort him. In the end, Miyoung stepped out of the room. She hoped she was doing the right thing.
66
“HALMEONI TOOK ME to be exorcised once,” Jihoon began conversationally.
His mother stared at him in surprise.
“She thought there was an evil spirit inside me, because after you left I wouldn’t eat or sleep. She didn’t realize it was because I was doing an exorcism of my own. I was extracting you.
“But I was so caught up in how you made me feel that I never wondered if it