hands free, to break the bond physically, but Halmeoni’s hands clamped down.
“It worked,” Miyoung whispered. “Stop it now.”
“It’s not done yet,” Halmeoni insisted.
Sweat dripped from the old woman’s brow, mixing with her blood.
Miyoung felt Halmeoni’s energy waning. A drying well that would soon leave an empty pit behind.
A trail of blood dripped from Halmeoni’s nose, splattering onto their joined hands.
Jihoon’s eyes shot open. He gasped like a fish suffocating on dry land.
Then he lay still.
Halmeoni collapsed, and Miyoung caught her before her head cracked against the linoleum.
Jihoon pulled in labored gasps, but he breathed.
Silence overtook the ruined kitchen.
And the bead was gone.
36
AT THE HOSPITAL, the police came.
Miyoung should have expected it. The restaurant was a crime scene, blood everywhere. There would definitely be questions.
She stood, hugging her arms around herself in the waiting room as the officer interrogated her.
“Can you describe the attacker?” The cop was young. An officer in a gray button-down and neon-yellow vest. The thick black lettering labeling him as POLICE looked stark, almost angry. Miyoung stared at it instead of at the officer’s judgmental face.
“I can’t,” Miyoung said. It was the truth. No matter what Yena had done, there was no way Miyoung could turn her in.
“Miyoung-ah, what the hell happened?” Somin stormed up, eyes puffy from crying. Changwan trailed behind with the forlorn expression of a lost puppy.
“Please, I’m conducting an investigation,” said the officer.
That brought a frown to Somin’s lips and even though she backed off, she watched the cop closely.
The officer turned mistrustful eyes to Miyoung. “Now, are you saying you can’t remember anything about the attacker? You know it’s against the law to hide information in a police investigation.” She shouldn’t have been surprised at the suspicion. She literally had blood on her hands.
“I don’t know.” Miyoung lowered her head as three pairs of eyes scrutinized her now.
“Maybe a trip to the station might loosen your memory.”
“Is that necessary?” Changwan asked.
“It’s my job to ask questions.”
“It’s your job to catch whoever did this, not to treat a witness like a criminal,” Somin said.
“I was only wondering if she’s not remembering all the details,” the officer said apprehensively.
“Oh.” Somin backed up with a fake sweet smile, her eyes still bright as lasers. “Then I guess you’re done with your questions now that you got the answer.”
“Sure.” The officer stuffed his notepad into his pocket. “If you can remember anything, then please let us know.” He pulled out his card, handing it to Changwan and no one else. It would have made Miyoung laugh if she didn’t still feel like crying.
As soon as the officer left, Somin spun on Miyoung again.
“What happened? Who did this to him?” The anger in Somin’s eyes pierced through Miyoung’s heart. She hadn’t realized she’d grown so fond of this girl. And to see the disappointment and hurt on Somin’s face caused Miyoung to falter.
“I can’t . . .” Miyoung couldn’t finish her sentence.
“But you do know. I can tell you know something you’re not telling us.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I don’t need your apologies.” Somin stomped down the hall toward Jihoon’s room, leaving Changwan to follow slowly.
Miyoung found her voice. “Changwan-ah.”
He looked at her with sad eyes. “Can you really not tell us what happened? Not even to help Jihoon and his halmeoni?”
Miyoung shook her head silently.
His face fell and his voice became flat. “You should go home. We’ll be with Jihoon tonight.”
Changwan left Miyoung alone in the waiting room. She’d never heard such a harsh tone from him. And it was his disappointment that finally broke her.
* * *
• • •
Miyoung didn’t leave, but she didn’t go into the room, giving Somin and Changwan time with Jihoon. Even after they left to visit Halmeoni, she stayed on the uncomfortable chairs in the cold waiting room.
A night-shift nurse gave her a cup of water.
Miyoung accepted it with a nod of thanks.
“You should sit with him,” the nurse said. “It helps to have loved ones sit with patients.”
“I don’t know.”
“It’s good for loved ones, too. Go talk to him. He can hear you.”
She wanted to say she didn’t know if she was a loved one, but the nurse’s kindness was too much for her to resist.
The sound of machines filled the small hospital room. Jihoon lay so still, Miyoung almost panicked until she saw the shallow rise and fall of his chest.
She sat and gripped Jihoon’s hand in her newly bandaged ones. For some reason the burns on her hands weren’t healing. And no matter her protests, the nurses had insisted on