Page 97 of Vicious Spirits

Miyoung let out a bitter laugh. “I don’t know. I didn’t give upthat life just for Jihoon. I did it for me. But I like imagining what it would be like to grow old with him. To grow old at all.”

“Sinhye can’t hold on to him forever. We’ll find a way to get her out of Jihoon.”

“She has so much hate in her for Junu. It makes her powerful,” Miyoung whispered. “I’m scared she’d rather destroy herself and Jihoon before she lets go of him.”

“We won’t let her do that,” Somin said. “Jihoon’s not just my friend. He’s my family. I can’t lose him.”

“We won’t,” Miyoung insisted. “I won’t let him go. I’ll do whatever it takes.”

“We all have to do whatever it takes,” Somin said.

Junu slipped away, no longer comfortable listening in. There was a low pressure in his chest. Equal parts worry and guilt. He doubted anyone had ever spoken about him with the conviction they had when they spoke of Ahn Jihoon. But then again, had he ever done anything to earn such loyalty? Such love?

She has so much hate in her for Junu. It makes her powerful.Miyoung was right. Sinhye wouldn’t be hurting them all if not for Junu and her hatred for him. He’d brought this on them all. He was the reason for their pain.

Frustration filled him as he shoved his hands into his pockets. His fingers brushed the edge of a business card, and he pulled it out. He was still wearing the same clothes he’d worn to the amusement park yesterday. It was the card from the little girl. The mystery number she’d been so confident he’d call.When you find hidden the one that seeks to harm, you’ll call.

The hidden one that seeks to harm. Sinhye.

Junu cursed under his breath. And he took out his phone to call the number.

48

JUNU SAT ONthe bench at the bus stop, glancing up and down the road every time a car approached. It was late enough that he’d missed rush hour, but early enough that the sun still hung low in the sky. Junu wondered, not for the first time, what he was doing here. But like every other time, he reminded himself that there was only one day left to help Miyoung. He had to do something. And he waited some more as he tapped the business card against his leg.

“You’re prompt.”

The woman was younger than he’d been expecting, but perhaps still old enough to be called a halmeoni. She had white streaks in her black hair. Her face was so thin that her cheekbones were prominent under her tan skin. There was something vaguely familiar about her, but Junu couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

“I’ve never gotten such an... interesting message before,” Junu said, still trying to place the woman in his memory and drawing a frustrating blank. “I hope you weren’t breaking any juvenile labor laws.”

“I heard you like to use humor as a way to shield yourself. Good to know my sources are accurate.” The woman sat beside Junu on the bench.

“Why don’t you give me your message instead of wasting both of our time?”

“You seek answers,” she said.

When she didn’t continue, Junu asked, “Do you have any?”

“You seek something you lost.”

This piqued Junu’s interest, and he sat up straighter. “Do you know where my bangmangi is?”

The woman chuckled. “I know how you do business, dokkaebi. And I know that you don’t give anything up for free. Neither do I.”

Junu chuckled. Whether or not he trusted this woman, he could at least respect her.

“What’s the cost of your information?” Junu asked; money was no problem for him.

“The cost is a trade.”

“What kind of trade?” Junu asked, suspicion blooming.

“The fox spirit for your bangmangi.”

“And what do you want with Sinhye?”

“Not me—my family’s sansin.”

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