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So she mourned her father in private, remembered him in private. Her father had been kind and loving and good. He was taken by cancer. It had been quick, at least according to her mother. Somin wondered if her mother thought that was a comfort. To know he died so fast. For Somin, it felt like an injustice that he was taken from her so quickly.

The last thing he ever said to Somin was a promise. He said he’d take her to Lotte World when he got out of the hospital. Now Somin knew he was far too weak to ever leave the hospital. She wondered if he knew. She wondered whether he was lying to her or to himself. He’d died the next day.

Somin closed the fridge again, not finding anything that caught her attention inside. She turned and almost let out a scream. In the doorway to the kitchen stood a dark figure, tall and thin with gray hair and pale skin.

“Appa?” she whispered before she remembered Junu’s warning. That her father was a ghost and it wouldn’t be smart tointeract with him. It was too late now. “Why are you here? Are you trying to warn me about something?”

“Somin?”

She whipped around to see Miyoung standing behind her. “I thought you were going to take a nap.”

“I couldn’t sleep,” Miyoung said, rubbing at her eyes like a fussy child. “Who were you talking to?”

Somin looked back toward the hallway. It was empty. “I was just talking to myself.”

“Well, you sounded mad at yourself,” Miyoung said, taking out a cup.

Somin considered telling Miyoung about her father and thought better of it. She had enough to worry about right now. “I guess I’m wondering if you were right. If I could have done more to persuade Jihoon to stay.”

“I’m sorry I said that to you,” Miyoung said. “I was lashing out at you because I felt guilty.”

“Guilty?”

“Yeah, Jihoon was right. Junu shouldn’t have to go alone. But I should have been the one to go with him.”

“You couldn’t have,” Somin said as she busied herself making boricha. A comforting and familiar drink. Turning to the sink, she filled the electric kettle. “You already look exhausted and you’ve barely even done anything today. That’s why they’re going to that mountain. To help you get better.”

“And shouldn’tIbe the one searching for an answer?” Miyoung asked, her voice rising in agitation. “The last time I sat on my butt and let someone else try to save me, she died.”

That stumped Somin. She didn’t know how to comfortMiyoung and yell at her at the same time. And that’s what she wanted to do. To tell Miyoung she was an idiot for continuing to blame herself for Yena’s death, but she also wanted to comfort her friend who was still mourning her mother. And Somin knew that when you were grieving, words meant nothing if your mind didn’t want to believe them. “It’s not just about you—it’s about closing the tear between worlds. You’re too weak to make the journey. Trust them to do it. They’ll be fine.”

“Will they?” Miyoung asked. “Jihoon shouldn’t be trying to take care of me; he’s still grieving his halmeoni. You know he went back to the old restaurant the night after we moved out? Just stood out front, never went in.”

Somin was surprised at that. “How do you know?”

“Hwang Halmeoni,” Miyoung said. “She was worried, so she called me. I told her to keep letting me know whenever he’s there.”

“Wow, Gu Miyoung, taking a page out of my book.”

“You mean I’m meddling,” Miyoung said.

“Is that what you think I do?”

Miyoung’s face fell. “Oh no, I don’t...”

Somin laughed. “No, it’s fine, I know I’m a meddler, but I can’t help it.”

“Do you really think they’ll be okay?”

“Don’t worry,” Somin said, even though it was all she was doing. “Junu is smarter and stronger than he looks.”

Miyoung lifted her brow. “Those are not words I’d have thought would come out of your mouth.”

“Maybe he’s not the worst person I’ve ever met,” Somin said with a shrug, turning to take out mugs and to hide her flushed cheeks.

“I’m not really good at this whole friendship thing,” Miyoung said. “But I think I’m supposed to ask you if there’s something you need to talk about.”

“No, of course not,” Somin said. “I mean, if there was something to talk about, then that would make me weak, right? I’d have been swayed by a pretty face. If there was something to talk about, it would be so embarrassing, right?” She was rambling but couldn’t seem to stop herself.