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JIHOON DIDN’T KNOWwhen they fell asleep. He jerked upright, suddenly awake.

“What is it?” Miyoung had been curled into his side and blinked owlishly at him.

“I don’t know.” Jihoon frowned, unsure what had pulled him so sharply from sleep.

Then came a crash from downstairs. He rose.

Miyoung stood as well. “Where’s it coming from?”

“The restaurant,” he said, stepping toward the back door. “Halmeoni?” he called. No answer.

The surprise he’d felt at waking had been centered in his belly. Now it moved to his chest as anxiety overtook him.

“Halmeoni?” Jihoon shouted, now running.

“Wait!” Miyoung called behind him.

He didn’t listen. He raced down the stairs, taking them two at a time.

The restaurant was dark and still. It seemed abandoned, and Jihoon had a moment to wonder if he’d imagined the sound when there was a banging crash from the kitchen.

“Jihoon-ah.” Miyoung’s voice held caution, but he ran toward the sound.

Jihoon stopped short and stared, unable to process what he saw.

His halmeoni lay on the floor, her apron stained crimson. A stack of plates had rained around her, covering the floor with broken shards.

A shape melted out of the shadows and became long and thin. A beautiful body, hair raven black, and eyes to match: Gu Yena.

“Stupid human,” she said a second before she struck Jihoon.

34

MIYOUNG LEAPT TOWARDJihoon. A yell of surprise caught in her throat so it came out a groan of distress.

“I’m disappointed in you, Daughter.”

“What are you doing?” Miyoung’s question wavered with her sobs.

“I’m fixing your mistakes, like I always do.”

Miyoung stood slowly, making sure to position her body between Yena and Jihoon.

“Please, Jihoon is important to me.” Miyoung hardly moved a muscle. It felt like she stood at a precipice. One strong breeze would send her tumbling over the edge or back to safety. The direction of the wind relied solely on her mother’s heart.

“You care about him that much?” Yena asked.

“I do.” She held on to her mother’s considering expression like a lifeline.

Then Yena’s sudden laughter deflated Miyoung.

“You’ve proven your lack of judgment to me, Daughter. First with that shaman and now with this boy. A gumiho does not love. We are objects of desire. We are illusion and beauty that humans lust after. That is why they are easily manipulated.”

“You don’t understand.” Angry tears burned at Miyoung’s eyes.

“No, I understand too well. I was foolish like you once, and I’ve been punished for that lapse in judgment.”

The words stung. Did Yena mean to imply Miyoung had been her punishment?