Legend [YEONBIN] ✓

fifteen ; soobin

I slunk into the house, slipping off my shoes, and let my backpack drop from my shoulder in the middle of the room. The clutter would annoy my mother, but I didn’t have the energy to carry everything upstairs right now.

I dropped onto the couch, planting my face into the soft pillows. My eyes burned with tears, and I shoved my face deeper into the pillows to catch them.

I shouldn’t have left Yeonjun.

He liked to do idiotic things, but that didn’t mean I had to let him. He was so infuriating. I punched my fist into the pillows beside my head.

I kept remembering the anxious concern on Yeonjun’s face as he’d told me to run. It felt odd to think it had been for me. More unsettling was that I’d accepted his help without a second thought. In that moment, when I’d fled, I’d trusted him.

I rolled onto my back, staring at the great vaulted ceiling. Through the skylights shone the moon, days away from full. It pulled at my hunger, magnified it. So deep and painful I wanted to curl into myself.

At the sound of feet on the stairs, I sat up quickly. I smoothed out my messy hair and stood.

“Mother, you’re home.”

“Were you crying?” My mom stood at the base of the stairs, assessing me with sharp eyes.

“Of course not.” i fought the urge to wipe my hands over my cheeks to search for tears.

“What happened?”

“Nothing.” It was the first time I had blatantly lied to my mother.

My mom stood so still, I wondered if I’d somehow broken her.

“Is there anything you’d like to tell me?”

My heart sped, and sweat beaded against my scalp despite the cool air.

“Perhaps you want to explain what this is.” My mom pulled a manila envelope from her pocket.

“It’s not what you think.” I tried desperately to think of a way to explain myself without toppling all of the secrets I’d kept stacked away.

“What have I told you about this kind of magic?” My mom waved the envelope like a flag of shame at me.

“I need it.”

“You will tell me what’s going on. Now.” My mom command filled the space so there was no room for argument.

“I can’t.” I silently prayed my mother would let it go, just this once.

“I’ll give you another chance to tell me the truth. Or so help me . . .” My mom didn’t need to finish. The disappointment on her face was more powerful than a thousand threats.

“It’s my bead, something’s wrong—”

“I told you those don’t exist,” My mom said. “I don’t appreciate you lying to me.”

Frustration flooded my brain. I knew they existed and I couldn’t believe my mother, who’d lived for so long, wouldn’t also know it. Why would mom want to keep this from me? “I’m not lying. If you’d just listen—”

The crack of my mom’s palm across my cheek echoed through the room.

“What have I done to deserve your disrespect?”

“Nothing.” My words were muffled by the hand I held over my cheek.

My mom lifted her hand, as if to lay it on my shoulder, but let it drop instead. “Soobin-ah, I am hard on you because there is a part of you that is weak. It’s my fault, because I was weak once, too.”

I knew my mother was referring to my father. To mom, the only thing weaker than humans was gumiho who loved them.

“I don’t want to lose you.” It was the closest mom had ever come to telling me she loved me. “That’s why I have my rules. I don’t take your safety lightly.”

“I’ll be better, Mother,” I promised.

“I hope you can be.” My mom ripped the envelope, shredding it into confetti that fell from her hands.

Something was going on with my mother. Mom knew more about gumiho lore than me and Sunghoon combined. She had to know fox beads were real. So why would she keep it a secret? What danger had I gotten myself into that was so bad even my mother refused to acknowledge it?

I’d find out, Miyoung thought as I watched the pieces of envelope and talisman flutter to the ground. I’d fix my mistakes, clean up my mess, and find a way to make sure my mother could trust me enough to tell me the truth.