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“Well, not all of it. But I’ve always wanted to walk along one of those paths by the river, maybe ride a bike, and sit by the water. It must feel good during the summertime.”

Jihoon noted the longing in her voice. “You like the water?”

“No. I’m actually terrified.”

“Really?” Jihoon asked.

“Yeah, I always have been. My mother once enrolled me in swimming lessons when I was five but I wouldn’t even go into the pool. At first I thought it must be part of my gumiho side, but Yena doesn’t seem to have any problem with water. So it’s just another way I’m weaker than her.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“You said I’m empty. I’m filling in the void.”

Jihoon nodded. “I guess we all have our phobias.”

“What’s yours?”

“Frogs,” he answered immediately.

“Frogs?” Miyoung gave him an incredulous look.

“They’re slimy and their back legs are disproportionately strong. It’s creepy.” He shuddered.

That got a laugh out of Miyoung and softened the mood. Exactly what Jihoon intended.

Her nose scrunched, and her eyes became half-moons that sparkled with humor.

“There it is,” he murmured. “That’s pretty.”

Her mouth dropped open, then snapped closed, as if she meant to reply but thought better of it. Her eyes stayed on his, taking his measure. He could almost see the wheels turning in her head, trying to figure him out.

“We should get back,” Miyoung said, starting back toward the scooter.

17

MIYOUNG WASN’T SUREif she was prepared to go home just yet. A new talisman was nestled in her pocket next to her bead. Two lies she kept from her mother. Lies she didn’t want to think about right now.

Jihoon parked behind a short square building. The savory scent of doenjang jjigae permeated the air. It was a simple dish, but no Korean could smell it and not feel comforted.

“Where are we?” Miyoung swung off the scooter.

Before Jihoon answered, a voice called out. “Have I been replaced, Jihoon-ah?”

Jihoon chuckled and called back to the old halmeoni sitting on a wooden platform across the street. “Never, you’ll always be my number one.”

“She’s a yeowu.”

Jihoon and Miyoung both froze, exchanging shocked looks.

“A foxy girl,” the halmeoni said with an amused cackle. “Very pretty.”

Jihoon let out a relieved breath. “Yes, she is.”

They both turned when the back door of the restaurant crashed open.

“Jihoon-ah! Where have you been?” An elderly woman stood framed in the doorway. Her hands were folded firmly across herchest. Her hair was a shock of white. Her face wrinkled in stern lines.

This was not a woman to cross.