Wicked Fox (Gumiho #1) - Kat Cho Page 0,34

harsh words of others turn her into a monster? Had they already?

“What about the liver thing?” he asked. “Where did that come from?”

Halmeoni shrugged as she scooped up rice. “I don’t know about that one. It could be a warning not to drink too much, and they added it to the gumiho myth as a two-for-one deal.”

Jihoon chuckled at the bad joke, but stopped when Halmeoni grabbed his hand, her expression suddenly sober.

“Jihoon-ah, even though I think the gumiho didn’t start out evil, it doesn’t mean she didn’t end up that way. It’s always good to know what you’re looking at before it bites you.” Jihoon nodded slowly, trying to read if there was a deeper message under his halmeoni’s ominous warning.

Then her eyes folded into a smile as she gave his hand a pat and went calmly back to her meal.

The rest of the night, all Jihoon thought about were myths and fables. The lessons they taught and the price they came with.

12

MIYOUNG DIDN’T LIKE being home alone, but though Yena insisted on having everything just so, she rarely spent any time in the house. Perhaps she had more of a need for fresh air as a full gumiho. Or maybe she just didn’t like making awkward small talk with her daughter.

The other night as they ate a silent dinner together, curiosity had pushed Miyoung to ask, “Mother, what do you do for fun?”

“Fun?” Yena had said the word like it was a virus.

“Yeah, do you knit? Play games? Read . . .” Miyoung trailed off at the icy glare from her mother.

“What a strange question. I honestly don’t know what’s gotten into you,” Yena said.

“I think I’m just tired.” And Miyoung had asked to be excused to her room.

Maybe that was why Yena had texted saying she wouldn’t be home for dinner tonight. She probably wanted to avoid Miyoung’s “strange questions.” And without her the house felt empty, with nothing but Yena’s collection of artifacts for company.

Miyoung was so often alone. That was how she started loving dramas. They were always on. The weekend daytime shows depicted family melodrama; the evening prime-time shows often showed more high-stakes stories. And some took on the fantastical. She remembered when she was younger and there were reruns of a drama on. The main character was a nine-tailed fox who fell in love.

She couldn’t wait to share the drama with her mother. It reminded her of her parents—a human boy falling for a gumiho girl. She’d never heard the story of how her parents had met, so her heart had filled in the blanks with the soft moments and sweet love that bloomed between the main characters.

When Yena had gotten home, Miyoung showed her the first episode that she recorded. Yena smashed the television set and told Miyoung if this was how she spent her days, then there was no need for a TV at all.

That night as Miyoung cried herself to sleep, Yena came into her room and apologized.

“It surprised me,” Yena explained. “And it’s wrong. That’s not something I want you to fill your head with. It’s dangerous to think that’s possible.”

“But you met my dad. You fell in love with him.”

“Meeting your father was a mistake, and it was nothing like that drama. He was a man and men only ever want one thing from us. I was tricked into thinking he could be different. But in the end he abandoned us. He couldn’t love his own daughter enough to stay. I don’t ever want that for you.”

And it was the first and last time Yena had ever discussed Miyoung’s father with her.

Tonight, the weeknight dramas weren’t holding Miyoung’s attention, and she checked her watch. Dinner should have been delivered by now. She glanced at the crumpled menu that had been wedged in their mailbox. She usually didn’t order in, but there was nothing in the fridge and she was starving.

Miyoung rubbed a hand over her stomach as it turned and twisted. It was almost painful, but it wasn’t as if she’d been neglecting her meals. At least not for food.

The doorbell chimed and she jumped up. She swung the door open and reached for the food when she stopped short. In front of her, holding out a plastic-covered delivery tray, was Ahn Jihoon.

“What are you doing here?” she blurted out, though it was fairly obvious as she saw his delivery scooter behind him.

“I’m working,” he said, glancing at the tray he held between them.

Miyoung grabbed it, and if

readonlinefreenovel.com Copyright 2016 - 2024