you were a ghost, but you were in the forest when she lost that bead.”
“What?” The question cracked through the forest. Miyoung sat up behind Jihoon.
“Nara.” Miyoung’s eyes held fire as they latched on to the girl. “Tell me what you’ve done.”
But it was the old shaman who replied. “What she must to rid this world of a demon.”
31
MIYOUNG DIDN’T KNOW what hurt more, the betrayal that bloomed in her chest or the agonizing flames that still shot through her veins.
“Nara?” When Miyoung stood, Jihoon tried to steady her, but she pushed him off. She didn’t want help. She didn’t need help.
“It’s a long story,” Nara said. The words meant nothing. There was no explanation that could dampen the blow even as Miyoung wished for one.
“You should leave,” Shaman Kim said to Jihoon, though her eyes never left Miyoung. “You don’t need to become involved.”
“I don’t leave my friends when they’re in trouble,” Jihoon said.
Now Shaman Kim’s cold gaze raked over him. “A smart man would not stand too close to a gumiho on a full moon.”
“I think I can make that decision for myself.” Jihoon gripped Miyoung’s hand, his fingers lacing through hers. His conviction eased the ache that surrounded her heart.
“Nara, why does Jihoon think he saw you that night?” Mi-young asked.
“It wasn’t supposed to happen like this,” Nara said.
“Did you send that dokkaebi?”
The young shaman frowned, like a child caught in her own lie, and Miyoung’s heart cracked.
“Why would you do that?”
“I needed the bead,” Nara said, like it was explanation enough, but it only created a dozen more questions that spun so fast Miyoung felt nauseated.
“Well, isn’t this a cozy scene?” A form, lithe and sleek, moved out of the shadows. Her steps so light, the leaves beneath her stayed silent. As she stepped into the moonlight, Yena’s eyes zeroed in on her daughter.
She glanced at Miyoung’s hand, still encased in Jihoon’s. Miyoung tried to pull away, but Jihoon only held on tighter.
“I never thought I’d see you again, Kim Hyunsook,” Yena said.
“You know each other?” Miyoung looked between her mother and Shaman Kim, then to Nara, who looked surprisingly unsurprised.
What was happening?
With every new revelation, it felt like the world was falling away, piece by piece, until she was left hanging on to nothing.
Jihoon squeezed her hand, a reminder that there was still something to cling to.
“You haven’t changed at all.” Shaman Kim glared at Yena.
“You have. You’ve gotten old and ugly,” Yena replied, her eyes like daggers. “What are you doing here, Miyoung?”
“She’s here because you’re about to get what you deserve.” The old shaman’s voice was filled with a hate that stung Miyoung even though she wasn’t the target.
“You’re still caught up about that?” Yena flicked her fingers, dismissing Shaman Kim’s anger so easily that the older woman glowered. “That happened twenty years ago.”
“Sixteen,” Nara shouted. “You killed my parents sixteen years ago.”
“No.” Miyoung’s voice came out a croak of surprise. Yena didn’t spare her a glance, but Nara did.
“I’m sorry. You were just a path to her.” The moonlight on her skin might have been pretty if Nara’s face wasn’t contorted in rage.
“What are you saying?” Miyoung asked.
“It’s not enough to take her life,” Shaman Kim hissed. “She took almost everything from us. We will take the same from her.”
Yena’s eyes flashed and she took a menacing step.
“Stop!” Nara yelled. Clearly a command for Yena but it was Miyoung who suddenly felt rooted to the ground.
“What’s going on?” Miyoung asked, trying desperately to lift her feet.
“I have her yeowu guseul.” Nara held up her fisted hand, then turned to Yena. “Don’t come closer or she’ll suffer.”
Yena’s lips peeled back in a snarl and she took another step.
“Seonbae, break your hand,” Nara said.
Miyoung gripped her left hand with her right before she could stop herself, squeezing until she felt the minute crack of bone. She let out a howl of pain but still she held on, crushing her fingers until they were swollen, broken things.
“Stop this!” Jihoon shouted, trying to pry her hands apart.
“Fine!” Yena halted.
“Stop,” Nara commanded, and Miyoung let go with a whimper. Her hands fell to her sides and she would have dropped to her knees if Jihoon wasn’t holding her up.
“You always told me I deserved redemption,” Miyoung said, sorrow thick in her voice. “And the whole time you were a monster, too.”
Tears fell in tracks down Nara’s cheeks. “I did want redemption for you. Maybe you can find it in the afterlife.”
The pain of Nara’s words pierced deep.