Nara began, glancing around. Miyoung refused to follow the girl’s gaze, refused to acknowledge the ghosts that haunted her. “You can see them now, can’t you?”
“Did you do it on purpose?” Miyoung asked the question that had been gnawing at her.
“I live with the curse of seeing ghosts, why would I wish that on anyone else?” Nara said, tears forming in her eyes.
Miyoung let out a sigh as the uncertainty lifted. Of course Nara wouldn’t mean her harm. “What went wrong?”
Nara shook her head. “I’m sorry, Seonbae. I just wasn’t skilled enough to redirect the energy of the talisman. I shouldn’t have even attempted it. I just wanted so badly to help.” She gripped her hands together as if she were praying for absolution. Or begging.
Miyoung knew she should reach out; knew she should comfort the shaman with her forgiveness. But she couldn’t.
“Can you get rid of them?” she asked.
“Maybe if we perform a protection ceremony? I think there’s a kut.”
“Nara, I don’t think one of your shaman dances is enough for this.”
“You’d be surprised, and if you gave me the yeowu—”
“No, I’m not giving you the bead. I’m going to tell my mother about it. I should have told her a long time ago.”
“Are you going to tell her about what we did?” Nara whispered, her fear palpable.
“No. I’ve never told my mother about you and I won’t now. Don’t worry.”
“Okay,” Nara said. “Just remember that I’m here.”
There was a request in Nara’s voice, like she was asking Mi-young to believe in her.
The loud instrumentals faded away. The room was silent as Miyoung stared at the shaman. And the phantom whispers began again. Miyoung reached for the remote to queue up another song and drown them out.
“They’re not new,” Nara said.
That surprised Miyoung into meeting Nara’s eyes. “What?”
“These ghosts, they’ve always followed you. The ones who were too bitter to move on. You’re their unfinished business. I’m sorry I never told you. I thought it would be too big a burden.”
Miyoung’s hand shook, and she balled it into a fist. She knew Nara spoke the truth, that she had kept this from Miyoung to protect her.
“These ghosts are my problem,” Miyoung said. “They’re my burden.”
“You don’t have to do this alone.”
“Yes, I do.”
“I wonder,” Nara said, “why you can’t seem to trust anyone. Is it your mother?”
“My mother cares about me. I’m all she has.”
“She forces you to be alone because she doesn’t trust the world. But she had hundreds of years to make that choice. Did you really have a choice at all?” Nara’s sad eyes entreated Miyoung. But if Miyoung admitted the truths in Nara’s observations, she’d be giving up on the facade of control she’d worked so hard to build.
“I like being alone,” Miyoung said. But she heard the lie in her voice. No matter how good she was at lying to others, she could never master the skill of lying to herself.
23
JIHOON HALF EXPECTED Miyoung to be absent again at school the next morning. When he saw her dark hair curtained around her slumped form, he couldn’t hold back the smile of relief.
Other kids sat in small whispering groups, their eyes tracking to Miyoung. He sighed and hoped the rumors of their “relationship troubles” would die down soon. It was taking everyone longer than normal to get over this gossip.
A shuffle of activity by the back door of the classroom drew his attention to Baek Hana.
She was hunched over, cradling a heavy object in her arms. Her friends rushed over, speaking in hurried whispers. One pulled out her phone and positioned herself in the corner, a prime viewing spot.
Hana homed in on her target with a leer.
Miyoung sat with her head down, scribbling notes, oblivious.
Jihoon sprinted down the row as Hana held up a large jar, goo already dripping. Jihoon grabbed Miyoung, cradling her under his body. Mung bean paste slid cold down his back, into his collar, down his shirt.
“Ya!” Hana yelled. “What’s your problem, Ahn Jihoon?”
The room was silent in the aftermath, kids staring at the spectacle.
Hana still held the jar, unpoured mung bean paste sitting in the bottom. Jihoon yanked it away in case she got any ideas. “Get out of here before I call the teacher.”
“Why are you protecting her?” Hana asked. “Is she really your yeo-chin?”
“Yeah, she’s my girlfriend. So lay off.”
The room paused, like no one knew how to react. It was the first time Jihoon had ever made the claim aloud.
Miyoung stood up suddenly. The force banged her