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“Ride’s over. I don’t think we’re going to be let on again after the show we put on.” His eyes slid to the side, and hers followed. She saw a group of disapproving parents ushering their kids away.

With a groan of embarrassment, she untangled herself from him and darted off the carousel. She couldn’t even look at the ride operator as she slunk away.

“Don’t worry,” Junu said, slinging his arm around her shoulders. “It’s a rite of passage to horrify a few parents when you’re a teenager.”

Somin shook her head and asked, “What’s next?”

34

AS LONG ASJunu had lived (and that was a very long time), he’d never regretted anything more.

As soon as the ride stopped, he lurched off the faux pirate ship and pushed through the crowd of exiting riders. Making a beeline for the closest trash can, he leaned over it and dry-heaved.

He heard the squeals of kids as they passed by. He’d never been more embarrassed in his life.

“Aw, poor baby,” Somin taunted as she walked up. There was laughter in her voice, and Junu vowed he’d get his revenge. One way or another.

“I never should have let you persuade me to get on that death trap.”

“I swear, I didn’t know you were so prone to motion sickness.”

Junu tried to straighten, but his stomach rolled and he leaned heavily on the trash can. He stared at Somin through narrowed eyes, silently daring her to laugh. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”

“No.” Somin shook her head soberly. “I think I’m enjoying this just enough.” Her giggle turned into a snort as she tried to hold it in.

“We will never talk of this again. Ever. Even to ourselves,” Junu said.

“I mean, I can’t promise that. I’m already planning a lot oflate-night gab sessions with myself where we go over everything in detail.”

“You are a cruel person, Lee Somin. I rue the day I ever met you.”

“Go ahead, rue away. I’m still buying one of those ride photos of you screaming your head off. Wait here,” she said before skipping away. As if Junu could do anything but lean pitifully against the disgusting trash can. He watched her go and saw a figure standing in the crowd watching Somin as well.

Junu almost called out to the man. He wore a battered cap over salt-and-pepper hair and looked old enough to be Somin’s father. But before Junu could say anything, the figure disappeared. Junu blinked, then glanced around at a dozen more spirits, floating in and out of the crowd. Some of the children seemed to notice them as well. Pointing or staring with wide eyes. But their parents either didn’t notice or didn’t believe their kids’ exclamations of wonder.

One of the ghosts floated through a teenage girl, who squealed and clung to her boyfriend.

“What?” the boyfriend asked with a laugh.

“You didn’t feel that?” she said, still hanging on to him. “It felt so cold, I’ve got goose bumps.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll keep you warm,” the boyfriend said, hugging her close and guiding her through the crowd.

The ghosts were becoming bolder. Floating among the living, visible, at least to those open to believe. The tear was getting worse.

“Excuse me.”

Junu almost ignored the small voice, but there was a tug on his shirt. A girl blinked up at him with curious eyes. Her handwas still fisted around the bottom of his shirt. She couldn’t have been older than six or seven.

“Can I help you?” Junu asked, eyeing her hand and wondering what mystery sticky substances she might be rubbing into his shirt.

“I’ve never met one of you before,” the girl said, tilting her head as she stared at him.

“One of whom?” Junu asked, trying to make his voice friendly and not confused.

“A dokkaebi. You’re much more handsome than I thought you’d be.” Her small lips pursed as if she was contemplating this fact.

Junu glanced around furitively as he knelt down and lowered his voice to a low whisper. “I don’t know what someone told you, but—”