Miyoung backed away from her mother’s wrath and the ghosts behind her. A gang of threats she couldn’t handle. The ghosts bared their teeth, hatred clear on their faces. Their eyes black holes, but filled with accusation nonetheless. “Leave me alone.”
“Don’t use that tone with me,” Yena snapped, her nostrils flaring in barely contained rage.
The ghosts danced across the air, like they swayed along to her mother’s fury. They surged forward.
“Get away!” Miyoung screamed, and swung out. Her nails scraped her mother’s cheek. Red slashes welled with beads of blood across Yena’s pale skin.
“Miyoung!” The roar filled the room and cleared the desperate fear from Miyoung’s mind. She blinked as she finally focused on her mother. The ghosts had receded, and she stared down at her hand, smeared in her mother’s blood.
“I didn’t mean to.” Her voice wavered back and forth between distress and apology. “I was trying to fix it, Song Nara said—” She clamped her lips tight, realizing her mistake.
“Song. Nara.” Yena said each word slowly. “The shaman you were speaking to is named Song Nara?”
Miyoung nodded meekly.
Without a word, Yena spun on her heel.
“Wait!” Miyoung called after her. “Where are you going?”
But Yena didn’t reply as she stormed out.
With fumbling fingers, Miyoung dialed Nara’s number.
“Nara, if I give you the bead, can you guarantee you can fix this?”
“Yes, I think I can, Seonbae.”
“Tell me where to meet you.”
28
JIHOON USED HIS Sunday afternoons for one thing: gaming.
It was his happy time when he didn’t have school and his halmeoni gave him a reprieve from helping out in the restaurant. He booted up the ancient computer in his apartment and debated whether it was worth it to put on real pants to go to the PC room for a better internet connection. He pulled out a pair from the pile of folded laundry his halmeoni had left for him. A yellow paper fell from the pocket and he sighed. Even when he left the bujeok in the wash, she meticulously saved it and placed it neatly back in his pocket. He started to shove it into a drawer, then stopped. Of all people, he now knew this stuff wasn’t superstition, so he stuffed it into his jacket as he shrugged it on.
The sound of his front doorbell confused him at first. Hardly anyone came upstairs when the restaurant was open below.
The yellow bujeoks around the front door fluttered as he opened it.
Detective Hae stood on the other side.
“Detective. Are you looking for my halmeoni? She’s downstairs.”
The detective’s shrewd gaze took in Jihoon’s rumpled clothes and sleepy eyes. “I’m actually looking for you. Your neighbor, Mrs. Hwang, told me you were out by the forest a few weeks ago.”
“When was that?” Though Jihoon knew already.
“It would have been about two months ago.”
Two months ago. When Jihoon first met Miyoung. When he saw her kill a dokkaebi.
Jihoon’s mind raced. Should he lie? Half truth, he decided. Easier to tell the truth even if it wasn’t full. “I don’t remember every night I’m out in the neighborhood, but I’ll try to help if I can.”
“Do you remember seeing anything strange?” Detective Hae asked.
“What do you mean?”
“Just anything.” The detective was being equally withholding.
“No, the neighborhood is pretty quiet after dark.”
“Did you hear anything from the forest?”
“Like hikers?” Jihoon asked.
“Like anything.” Detective Hae watched Jihoon so closely he felt if he blinked the wrong way, the man would file it away.
“I don’t really notice things.”
The detective sighed. “It’s about that file you saw at the station. That man disappeared two months ago. We found his body last night.” The detective emphasized the word body, watching for a reaction.
Jihoon kept his expression blank by running through his last gaming battle strategy in detail.
“Sorry, I can’t help you.”
“Listen.” The detective hesitated, then continued. “It’s going to sound odd, but I think this is a pattern. There have been other similar attacks.”
“Similarities? Like what?” Jihoon asked.
“That’s sensitive information,” the detective replied, but Jihoon didn’t need to hear—he had a good idea. Men missing, turning up without their livers, men who looked like they had been attacked by a wolf . . . or a fox.
“But I’m fairly certain there will be another attack and soon. Now, are you sure you didn’t see anything?”
“Yeah, I’m sure.” Jihoon set his mouth in a stern line like he’d seen his halmeoni do before.
Detective Hae dug into his pocket, pulling out his card. “Well, if you do remember anything, then let me know.”