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“That’s a shame.” Junu didn’t miss a beat. He gave Jihoon a half smile that implied he knew it was a lie. “I thought I could also finally give you a ride in my car. Don’t think I forgot we promised you a rain check.”

“Oh, I promised Jihoon we’d hang out today,” Changwan said to Junu, but he frowned, like he wasn’t looking forward to spending his day at the hospital.

Jihoon sighed. “Why don’t we catch up another time, Changwan-ah.”

“Really? You sure? Thanks!” Changwan spoke so fast, Jihoon had no chance to respond.

“Should we grab food first?” Junu slung his arm around Changwan’s shoulder and led him out.

It wasn’t until they were gone that Jihoon realized they’d left him to pay for all the drinks.

52

THERE WERE NOanswers in Hong Kong.

A call from Yena had confirmed that the monks and spiritualists there had no answers for a gumiho who’d lost her bead. And Miyoung had to perform an acrobatic dance of smooth talk to convince her mother not to return to Osaka, where she would find an empty apartment as proof of her daughter’s lies.

“We don’t have much time,” Miyoung had said. “Wouldn’t it be better for you to go to the next place to find answers?”

“Fine,” Yena had replied after a prolonged pause. “I don’t want you to worry, Daughter. Iwillfind an answer.”

“I trust you,” Miyoung had said before hanging up.

Then, as if from nowhere, a wave of sorrow had struck her. She hadn’t expected Yena to find an answer in Hong Kong. But she realized now that a part of her had hoped. With every passing day, with every failed city, Miyoung knew she was that much closer to death.

What would happen to her after she died? She’d always insisted gumiho didn’t have a soul, but the idea that she’d just stop existing terrified her. It was so unfair. She’d lived her life walking a fine line, always being careful. Always being obedient. And the one time she’d tried to truly live had been her undoing. And nowshe was doomed? Was it because she’d been a fool to hope for more out of life?

Walking used to clear her mind, but she’d been stalking the streets for an hour and it had only proved she was weaker than ever. She wiped sweat from her brow despite the chill that still clung to the early spring air.

She paused, letting herself lean against a bus shelter. She’d wandered to her old neighborhood. If she followed the fork to the left, she’d be back at her old house. And to the right, Jihoon.

A crack of thunder sounded overhead.

Miyoung glanced at the cloudy sky. It felt like the heavens were mocking her, or perhaps empathizing with her mood.

Two steps and her shoes were drenched. The rain fell in a heavy blanket, so she barely saw a meter in front of her. No sane person would want to be caught out in this. Yet still she walked.

Stuffing her hands into her pockets, she continued to walk without feeling the chill that soaked through her clothes, her skin, her bones.

“Babo-ya, you never hear of an umbrella?” Words echoed from another time.

Jihoon stood in front of her, his umbrella so large it created a safe haven underneath. “Are you following me?”

“Of course not,” she said. It was the truth. She hadn’t meant to come here. It had just... happened. She moved to go around him. He stepped to the side to block her path.

“This ismyneighborhood,” Jihoon pointed out. “If you’re not following me, what are you doing here?”

“How do you know I didn’t move back into my old place?”

“Did you?” He lifted a brow in challenge.

“No.” Miyoung moved to the other side and was blocked again.

“Did you mean it before?”

This stopped Miyoung in her tracks.

“When you said you’d help my halmeoni, did you mean it?”