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Junu hoisted her up, swinging her arm around his shoulder.

For some reason she was grateful he hadn’t thrown her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. It was really the small things she’d learned to be grateful for in these final days.

She was unceremoniously deposited in the dry bathtub, where she wouldn’t drip on the pristine floor. Junu returned with a cup of bitter-smelling, steaming liquid. He’d probably heated it to warm her chilled bones, and somehow that made the concoction taste worse.

“I don’t remember you taking an umbrella when we left,” Junu said, holding it up.

“I didn’t,” Miyoung muttered, pulling off her shoes and pouring the dirty rainwater down the drain.

“Where’d you get it?”

She didn’t want to say, but knew that Junu would guess anyway. “Jihoon.”

“How chivalrous.”

“I didn’t want to take it.” Miyoung pulled off her socks next.

“Did he use his fox-bead magic on you?”

“Don’t call it that.” She threw her socks at him and missed. They smacked into the wall, the dirty water splattered everywhere, and Junu winced. He hated dirt in his home.

“He possesses your bead. He could make you do anything he wants. What else should I call it?” Junu asked, handing her a towel.

“Except he doesn’t know he has it.” Miyoung stepped out of the tub, feeling a little steadier.

“Has that stopped him from commanding you to do things?”

Miyoung fumed, unable to answer.

“See,” Junu said.

“I don’t pay you to have an opinion,” Miyoung said, trying her best to channel her mother. But it didn’t work, as she looked like a drowned rat.

“Whether I say it aloud or not, he’s dangerous to you.”

“And he’s in danger, too. I think the bead is hurting him. His mortal body wasn’t meant to hold something so powerful.”

“You don’t feed on the off chance it could hurt him. You came back to help him with his halmeoni. Isn’t that enough?”

“Nothing will ever be enough. Even if I had ten mouths to apologize, it wouldn’t be enough.” Miyoung pushed past Junu.

“Ya! You’re dripping,” Junu called after her.

She ignored him and stepped into her room. When he tried to follow, she slammed the door in his face. It was childish but it was satisfying. She peeled off her wet clothes, letting them fall with aplop, and wrapped herself in a robe.

She dropped onto her bed, slamming her head against the headboard. The pain was one more thing to pile onto the miserable day.

Junu was right. She hated that he so often was. Jihoon had her bead and therefore held a power over her. When he demanded she do something in just the right way, Miyoung felt a fire in her chest. And she was unable to deny his command.

She glanced toward the calendar hanging on her wall. Three weeks until the next full moon and a month until the hundredth day. A countdown had begun the night her mother had attacked Jihoon. The first night she didn’t feed. And with each full moon that passed and each time she chose not to feed, she grew weaker and weaker until she’d fade into nothing. She lifted her hand, almost expecting to see through it like a ghost. But other than being a bit paler, it was still there. For now.

Yena wasn’t the only one who’d been searching for an answer. Miyoung had visited her fair share of monks and shamans.

She’d come up with her own theories.

There was more than one reason she refused to feed. She believed if she made her bead weak enough, it could be removed from Jihoon on the hundredth day. Right before she faded away forever.

Miyoung wondered again what became of gumiho when they died. Did they really have souls? Or did they just cease to exist?