wasn’t standing in front of him. Pale and disheveled, sweat beading her brow, but definitely whole and alive. One thing was for sure: Junu knew that Miyoung wasn’t fully human. She was still tied to the supernatural world.
Sometimes he wanted to ask her why she did it. Why did she sacrifice her bead to save her dying mother? And now Yena was dead anyway, and the bead was gone with her. Was it worth it?
Then Junu remembered what Hyuk had told him and studied Miyoung more closely. Was there anything about her, any aura that might be a sign that she was somehow connected to the Between? Would Junu even recognize the sign if he saw it?
“How are you feeling?” Junu ventured.
“Like there’s an annoying bug that keeps buzzing around me. And no matter how much I swat at him, he doesn’t go away.”
“Ha-ha,” Junu said dryly. “You’re spending too much time around Somin. Your insults are getting very barbed.”
“You’re insufferable.”
“Miyoung-ah,” he started. “Let me help you.” He wasn’t sure if he was just talking about the trash bags now.
“No,” Miyoung said, her voice hard. “I don’t understand why you’re still here. You pretended like you cared if I got my bead back, but the whole time you were only looking at your bottom line. Well, you got paid, and all you had to do was betray me and keep me from finding Jihoon and my mother until it was too late and my father already had them both.”
“That’s not fair,” Junu said. “I was only doing what Yena asked me to do. I had no idea that your father wanted to hurt either of you.” He started to reach out, but she gave a low warning growl in the back of her throat, a habit she hadn’t lost from her more predatory days, and swatted his hand away.
Then she paused. “What have you been up to?”
“What?” Junu asked, unsure how to react to the suspicion on her face.
“You have the energy of death on you,” she said quietly. “Like gi that’s rotted.”
“You can still taste gi?” Junu asked.
“Just answer my question,” Miyoung said.
“I don’t know,” Junu said, shrugging. He didn’t want to reveal his conversation with Hyuk just yet, not until he’d done more research on his own. “I don’t always interact with the most savory clients. Maybe you’re tasting one of them.”
Miyoung stared at Junu another second before she turned away. “Whatever,” she said. But as she started down the steps, she stumbled. Her ankle rolled. She cried out in surprise, and the bag went flying from her hands as she tumbled down the rest of the stairs. Junu raced forward as she came to a jarring stop at the base of the stairs.
Bruises mottled her arms, and the skin of her palms was torn where she’d tried to stop her downward momentum.
It was unsettling to see. A girl who used to be an immortal now lying in a pile of bruises and cuts.
All this pain just so she didn’t have to feel the guilt of devouring a few souls.
Was it worth it? Junu wondered again.
7
AS MIYOUNG WALKED through the forest, she knew it was happening again. Another lucid dream. She stood beside the maehwa tree where she’d placed a plaque in memory of her mother. The tree was missing its leaves, and the air felt cold with winter even though Miyoung knew that in the real world the heat of summer cooked the city.
She started looking for her mother before she heard the movement in the trees. The rustle of leaves echoed through her ears like thunder.
“Eomma?” Her voice shook. “Eomma, if you’re here, then say something.”
There was a snap of a twig, a flash of shapes, and Miyoung spun to face whoever emerged from the forest. There was nothing there. And when a hand dropped onto her shoulder, she jumped with a scream.
“Why do you keep coming back?” Yena asked, concern lacing the question.
“I don’t mean to,” Miyoung said, breathy from the scare. “Where are we? In a dream?”
“Not entirely.” Yena hummed and didn’t continue.
“Then where?” Miyoung asked, frustration pushing away the fear that had filled her.
“You cannot keep coming here,” Yena said instead. “It’s not safe. They know.”
“Who knows?” Miyoung surveyed the area for this mysterious they.
“Leave.” Yena stepped away, her form becoming transparent, bleeding into the maehwa tree behind her. “Don’t come back.”
“Eomma, wait.” Miyoung stepped forward, but it felt like she was walking through molasses and she couldn’t reach her mother in time.