Once we step out of the hectic bustle of the airport, the three of us move faster and talk less. Without the protection of the airplane, we’re fair game for anyone who wants to track us.
I wave down a taxi. When a middle-aged woman cuts in front of me as though she has every right tomytaxi, I shoulder her away. After a brief tussle, theajummascoffs at me in affront and immediately cuts in front of a sucker who doesn’t know any better.
While I indulge in a smug grin, Captain Seo gets into the front seat of the taxiIhailed before I can call shotgun.Who’s the sucker now?Grumbling under my breath, I shuffle in after Minju into the back seat.
“Eurwangni Beach, please,” the historian promptly tells the driver.
I don’t ask how she knows the closest beach to Incheon International.Whatever.I shouldn’t be surprised by her vast knowledge of ... well, everything.But why Eurwangni Beach?I shrug and go along for the ride. As long as the two seonnyeos do nothing to interfere with my one and only objective of keeping them alive, then I officially do not care.
Moreover, I heard Eurwangni Beach has a killer seafood restaurant right by the water. They grill fresh clams and scallops over lump charcoal until the shells open to reveal the tender meat inside, bubbling in their juices. Saliva pools in my mouth just imagining the sweet, briny goodness.
Captain Seo pays for our fare with the black card, and we get off the taxi at the beach. The sun hovers just above the horizon, casting a shimmering stretch of golden light across the water. We don’t speak for a long moment, entranced by the beautiful sunset.
“Today is Hangawi,” Minju murmurs, breaking the melancholy silence.
“Really?” My eyes widen, and butterflies flutter in my stomach. “We should eat somesongpyeonfor good health.”
First of all, I love the sweet, half moon–shaped rice cakes. Second, I haven’t celebrated Mid-Autumn Festival in over a hundred years, and a small, often unheeded part of me misses the holiday that celebrates family and abundance.
“Okay.” Minju smiles distractedly. “We have quite a bit of time until the road turns silver.”
“Until the what turns what?” I ask, exchanging a bewildered glance with the captain.
But the historian doesn’t answer and crosses the street toward a row of single-story structures facing the beach. My gaze snags on a small hut that stands sandwiched between two modern buildings, looking woefully out of place.
When Minju heads straight for it, the captain and I jog across the street to catch up with her. The hut appears to be a restaurant, and from the delicious smells wafting through the windows, a very good one.
“Huh.” A smile quirks Captain Seo’s lips. “The restaurant is your namesake.”
The sign outside the hut says,Minju Ne, which means “Minju’s Place” in Korean.
“All the stores are probably closed for Hangawi ...” I trail off when Minju pushes open the restaurant’s door and walks right in. “Okey dokey then.”
“After you,” the captain says with a sweep of her arm.
I step past her with a mocking bow but come to an abrupt stop. “Whoa.”
Minju stands in the middle of the restaurant, embraced by two strangers—a tall, broad man and a diminutive woman, both middle aged and exceptionally attractive. And the three of them are weeping elegantly—tears falling silently down their cheeks with no snot in sight.
“You’re blocking the way.” Captain Seo nudges me to the side and walks inside the restaurant. “Whoa.”
I don’t care. I don’t care. I don’t—
“What the hell is happening?” I croak.Damn it. I care. But only to the extent of keeping my friends alive.“Minju, do you know these people?”
“I do.” The historian steps back from the strangers, sniffing delicately. “They’re my parents.”
“Guh.” My brain vibrates with curiosity, but I shut that nonsense down. All I have to know is whether her parents will kill us or not. Anything else will get me too close to giving a fuck.
I focus my magicgigoggles on them. Minju’s mother glows with the vibrant redgiof Underworld—adokkaebi. As for her father, I don’t need to see his silver gi, the life force of Sky, to know he’s a seonnam. His exquisite bone structure is a dead giveaway.
Her mother takes out a handkerchief from the apron tied around her waist and dabs away the tears on Minju’s face, while her fatherwatches the scene with a heartbreakingly tender expression. I blink away an inexplicable tear, clearing my throat.
Okay. They probably won’t kill us.
“Nice to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Ha.” Captain Seo, with her fully functioning brain, bows respectfully from her waist. It seems like a good idea so I mimic her. Just because I care about nothing doesn’t mean I have to be disrespectful to Minju’s parents.
“Are you friends of our darling daughter?” Mrs. Ha doesn’t give us a chance to respond and pulls us into a hug, one in each arm. She is surprisingly strong for someone so small—not that I’m much taller.
