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“Does it frighten you so much? The idea of me being here?”

Miyoung spun around to face Yena. A sharp pang ripped through her chest. Whether it was born from fear or anticipation, she wasn’t sure.

“You don’t frighten me, Mother.” Miyoung knew the reedy sound of her voice gave away her lie.

“Why do you fear me?” Yena asked. “I am only here to help you.”

“But all you’ve done is talk in riddles and threaten me.”

“Threaten?” Yena’s eyes widened as her voice rose. “I only want the best for you.”

Miyoung cringed away, lifting her hands as a shield.

Yena’s face fell as she moved back, her hands coming up in apology. “I’m sorry. I’m not... stable.”

“What are you?” Miyoung asked.

“I’m not sure,” Yena said, and her form seemed to fade a bit with the uncertainty.

“You’re really here,” Miyoung said, confident of that. “But how?”

“I don’t know. Something holds me here.”

“What?” Miyoung asked, heat settling in her stomach.

“Perhaps...” Yena’s eyes shifted down.

Miyoung followed her gaze and saw a golden thread between them.

Yena smiled. “Do you feel it, Daughter? That we are still connected?”

A hope bloomed in Miyoung like a flower on a maehwa tree, fighting its way into the world in the cold of winter.

“Help me, Daughter. Help me find you again,” Yena said.

Miyoung reached for the thread. She worried it would pass right through her hands, but it was warm as she wrapped her fingers around it. Yena’s smile widened, became bright with anticipation. And Miyoung pulled.

The string tightened, became so bright it blinded her. Then it blinked out. Disappearing into the night and leaving her in total darkness.

She tried to move but couldn’t see even two centimeters in front of her nose.

The ground shook as something heavy fell beside her.

It felt like the world was falling away. Crumbling pieces crashing around her.

“What’s happening?” Miyoung yelled around the thunderous noise. A chill started to seep into her, so deep it took root in her bones. And she knew something was wrong.

14

JUNU WOKE THEnext morning with a headache and a mouth so dry it felt like his tongue was made of sand. Rolling over, he noticed a full glass of water on his nightstand. Somin. She was a saint. He gulped the whole thing down.

Feeling slightly revived, he wandered out to find her. He planned to show his gratitude, and he had a few ideas of how he could do so. But as he made his way toward the kitchen, he heard a suspicious thud from the opposite direction. He followed the noise and then watched Somin try, and fail, to open the many drawers of his ancient chest. The one where he kept his very delicate and very hard-to-procure wares.

“Lee Somin, shame on you for snooping,” Junu said with a click of his tongue.

“I thought maybe there’d be medicine or something in here to help you,” Somin said.

Junu almost laughed. “You’re not a great liar. You should work on that.”