phone beeped. When she saw Jihoon’s number flash across the screen, she slipped out of the hospital room quietly and swiped to answer.
“Where are you?” she asked, praying that Jihoon had somehow regained control.
“Somin-ah,” rang Changwan’s bright voice. “We’re in Jihoon’s old neighborhood, at that food cart in front of the kalguksu restaurant.”
“Why are you using Jihoon’s phone?” Somin asked carefully. Changwan’s tone was casual and calm, not the voice of someone who was being held against his will. Still, Somin’s heart beat so fast that she thought it would break free from her chest and flop onto the ground.
“Oh, I can’t find mine. I hope I left it at home and didn’t lose it. Again. My dad would kill me; it would be the second phone I’ve lost this month.”
“Why are you calling me?” Somin asked, careful to keep her tone even.
“Oh, Jihoon-ah said I should call and ask you to come out and meet us. Are you busy?”
What game is this fox spirit playing? Somin wondered. “No, I’m not busy.”
“Great,” Changwan said. “We’ll just hang out until you get here.”
There was a murmur of a voice that Somin recognized as Jihoon’s and she strained to listen, but the words were too muted. She didn’t have to wonder long, because Changwan said, “Jihoon says you should hurry.”
Somin checked her phone again to see if Junu or Miyoung had texted her back as she hurried up the street from the bus stop. Her message sat in the chat: I found Jihoon. He’s in his old neighborhood.
But neither had replied. She started to call Miyoung again, when someone stepped out of the corner convenience store and blocked her path.
“Excuse me,” Somin said as she tried to skirt past, but the person moved to block her.
She finally looked up, about to tell them off, and stopped short. Mr. Ahn sneered at her, a half-drunk bottle of soju in his fist. “Where’s that good-for-nothin’ son of mine?” His breath reeked and his words slurred.
I don’t have time for this. “I don’t know.”
“I know he’s staying with you. Mooching off you while he keeps all that money for himself.”
“Mr. Ahn, please, I don’t know where he is, and I have somewhere to be.” She tried to step to the left and he came with her, but she’d anticipated it this time and swerved back to the right, sprinting past him before he could recover.
“Ya!” he shouted after her. “I want my money.”
Somin raised a hand in a wave (when, really, she wanted to raise just one particular finger) and raced down the street. She hoped she wasn’t too late.
* * *
o o o
Somin wasn’t sure if she should be grateful or terrified to find Changwan and not-Jihoon chatting amicably at the plastic stools beside the food cart. The ajumma manning it was lazily stirring the broth that held the eomuk, usually Somin’s favorite. She could smell the scent of fish cakes wafting through the air. It joined the spicy aroma of the tteok-bokki, little rice cake tubules, simmering in a sauce so red it would burn your lips and stain your clothes.
The light from the sign of the neighboring kalguksu store lit the street with a neon glow. EOMMA SOHN. Mother’s touch. It reminded Somin of her mother lying in a hospital bed, sparking her anger.
Not-Jihoon spotted her first. No, Junu said her name was Sinhye, back when she’d had her own body and wasn’t stealing one from Somin’s best friend.
Sinhye let a smile spread on Jihoon’s face. Sharp and predatory. Then she smoothed it out, like an expert actress.
“Somin-ah, took you long enough,” Sinhye sang out.
Changwan turned, a wooden skewer with a half-eaten eomuk clutched in his hand. “Somin-ah,” he said, waving, but he’d forgotten he held the skewer and the eomuk went flying off, falling to the ground with a splat. Changwan’s face fell like a puppy who’d lost his treat.
“Changwan-ah,” Somin said, and purposefully didn’t address Sinhye. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at your hakwon studying for the suneung exam?”
“The class doesn’t start for another hour,” Changwan said with a bright grin, like he expected Somin to be happy about this fact.
Instead it made her search her brain for another reason to get Changwan to go. She didn’t trust Sinhye to leave him unscathed. He was obviously a tool in whatever sick, twisted game the fox spirit was playing.
And though Somin never liked to take advantage of Changwan’s kind soul, she did it now for his own good.