Wicked Fox (Gumiho #1)(108)

“I don’t know how.” She sighed, and it shuddered through her whole body to shake her. “She was my everything.”



“Maybe it’s wrong for us to hold any one person as our whole world. Maybe . . .” Jihoon trailed off with an odd expression. “Maybe it’s wrong of us to owe all of our happiness or sadness to one person.”

“What is it, Jihoon?” Miyoung asked, frowning.

“Nothing. I just think maybe I owe someone a visit,” Jihoon said. “But that can come later. Right now, I’m going to make you soup.”

“Soup sounds good.” Miyoung smiled.





78





WHEN JIHOON KNOCKED on the sleek metal door, his hand trembled. He closed it until the shaking stopped. He felt back to normal for the most part, but a few residual weaknesses remained. The doctors had assured him it was just the last fading effects of overcoming such an acute illness, though they still had no name for what had afflicted him. He didn’t suppose it would help for him to explain the supernatural parts of it. The hospital could just view him as a medical oddity.

The door opened and his mother’s surprised face appeared.

“Jihoon-ah,” she said, caution in her eyes. “What are you doing here?”

“I have something to say.” He paused. On the way there, he’d practiced his speech over and over. But now, facing her, he wasn’t sure what words to use. So he blurted them out. “I understand.”

“What?” His mother’s voice shook with unspoken emotion.

For some reason, that made Jihoon feel steadier. “I understand why you left.”

She hesitated, glancing behind her. Then seemed to come to a conflicted decision. “Why don’t you come in? I’ll make you tea.”

It was a step, he thought. But not one he wanted to take right now. He’d gathered enough courage to talk to her, but not to spend time with her. Not yet.

“I’m not staying long. I just need to say something.”

“Okay.” She folded her hands, waiting patiently for him to continue.

“I understand that when you left, you thought you were doing good for me. I used what you did as an excuse to push people away for too long. It was easier for me to blame you for my insecurities, but I can see it now, how you were right about one thing. Being raised by Halmeoni was the best life for me.”

“Oh, Jihoon-ah—”

“I’ve decided to stop blaming you. I don’t want to be angry anymore.”

“Jihoon-ah, I am sorry for how things ended up.”

“Thank you,” Jihoon said. “And maybe I’ll forgive you. One day.”

She gave a small smile. “I hope so.”





79





MIYOUNG WAITED IN the bright sunlight. It felt good to be outside. Spring sat heavy in the air, filled with pollen and grass. She took a deep breath.

Her sense of smell had become muted. The same with her vision, her speed, her strength. It took some getting used to.

She didn’t feel fully human, but she didn’t feel the hunger for energy she once did either.

Miyoung was caught in some kind of limbo, not quite gumiho and not quite human. And though she hadn’t told anyone yet, she knew that she was weak even for a human. Recovery had been slower than she’d hoped, but it wasn’t something to burden anyone with. Especially because there was no precedent for her situation.

“Ya! You’re not pedaling right!”

Miyoung glanced over, holding in her smile at the sight of Somin chastising Changwan as they tried, and failed, to ride a tandem bike.

“Your legs are shorter than mine,” Changwan complained as his limbs dragged over the ground to stop them.

“You have to watch my lead,” Somin instructed from her front seat.

Junu leaned against the railing. “Isn’t the boy supposed to sit in the front?” Behind him the Han River flowed peacefully, the smell of water saturating the wind that blew over Miyoung’s cheeks.

“The better rider sits in front,” Somin corrected, sending him a glare patented just for the dokkaebi.

A strange truce had formed between Miyoung and Junu. The dokkaebi hadn’t disappeared after Yena’s death like Miyoung had expected. And surprisingly, it had been Jihoon who’d told her to give Junu another chance.

“It seems like he’s sticking around because he needs to make amends,” Jihoon had said. “I think we can both understand how that feels.”

So Miyoung had begrudgingly accepted the dokkaebi whenever he randomly showed up. Like today, as he arrived with the tandem bike and Changwan.

“Miyoung-ah! Come save me from these boys!” Somin called to her.

She chuckled. “No thanks.”

Somin sighed, then gestured to Junu. “Come and take a turn, then.”

He sauntered over, a knowing grin on his face.

“You want me to take a turn, sweetheart?” Junu asked.

Changwan was starting to climb off when Somin stopped him.

“No, I think you guys will make a much better pair.” Somin grinned, climbing off the bike.

Junu raised a brow, then shrugged and climbed into her seat. “Okay, Changwan, let’s show them how it’s done.”