and waited for him to look at her. He was drenched with sweat. His hands shook as he clasped them together, as if in prayer. “He shouldn’t be here,” he muttered. “He should be gone.”
“Who?” Somin asked. This man’s face was pale as snow. His eyes were so wide she could see the white around his iris.
“My brother. He’s back. He knows what I did. He wants to punish me for it!” The man’s head jerked to the side, his eyes darting up the road.
“I don’t see him,” Somin said, trying to add reassurance to her voice.
“He’s dead. He died a year ago. And he knows what I did. He’s come back to take me to the afterlife with him.” He took hold of her wrists. Despite his tremors, he had strength, and she couldn’t twist free.
Ice seeped into her veins. Somin didn’t know this man. She had no idea what he was capable of. “What did you do?”
Instead of answering, the man’s eyes stared over Somin’s shoulder. He scrambled back, letting go of Somin in the process. “Get away from me!” the man screeched. “Don’t touch me!” He jumped up and darted down the road.
Relief flooded Somin, and then a sense of guilt. What if this man really was in trouble? If anything, he was suffering from delusions, maybe born from overheating. He thought his dead brother had come back to life. But Somin remembered Halmeoni’s strange visit to her last night. And the man that kept appearing with the salt-and-pepper hair. The scent of licorice was still faint in her nostrils now. No, there was a perfectly good explanation for these things. And it wasn’t ghosts.
That tingling sensation returned. The feeling that told her she was being watched. And this time it wasn’t a light prickle but a chill that made her shiver. Like it had force behind it. The force of rage.
It couldn’t be, she thought, reluctant to turn around. Still, she willed herself to do it. Somin had always been a rationalist, and she wouldn’t let the ravings of a stranger change that. So she slowly turned and stopped short when she saw him: a man standing just up the road. Not the now-familiar man with the cap. This one’s face was clearly visible. His expression was filled with cold satisfaction. An expression that sat on a face bloated and rotting. A face that Somin could see right through to the buildings beyond. She took a stumbling step back, letting out an involuntary gasp. The figure turned his white eyes to her before he disappeared completely.
“What is this?” she whispered to herself.
“Somin.” She let out a scream before she could stop herself. She felt her legs buckle and would have fallen if Junu hadn’t grabbed her arms to hold her up.
“Come on,” he said. “Let’s get you inside.”
“Did you see him? Am I losing my mind?”
“No, you’re not. I saw him. We need to talk.”
“I—I can’t right now.” She shook her head; there were too many things racing through her mind. “I can’t fight with you right now.”
“I know,” Junu said, his voice calm, his eyes soft. “That’s not what we need to talk about. It’s time I told you something. Told all of you.”
Somin finally looked at Junu now, and his somber expression got through to her. Something was going on. And she latched on to it. She didn’t know how to deal with whatever she just saw, but if there was a problem that needed fixing, she could do that. She was good at that.
“Let’s go,” she said, taking another deep breath to steady herself.
* * *
o o o
The minute she opened the door to her apartment, Dubu came running down the hall, closely followed by Jihoon. Somin scooped up the small, yipping dog, cuddling her close. She needed this right now. The unfiltered, simple love of a canine.
“What’s he doing here?” Jihoon asked, eyeing Junu.
“Jihoon, not now. I’ve had a really . . . weird morning,” Somin said.
“That’s what worries me.” Jihoon crossed his arms. “Please tell me you actually spent the night in the study room and not somewhere else.” He bit out the last words as he gave Junu an accusing glare.
“I thought you hated lies,” Somin said.
“I don’t hate them when they let me believe you weren’t alone with that dokkaebi all night.”
“Nothing happened.” Lies. “You don’t need to worry about me.” More lies. “I can handle things.” Even more lies.