How long have I been falling?
Longer than a jump from the Empire State Building, five times over. I feel my sanity unraveling when my body finally goes limp, reaching its limit, and my eyes roll back.Thank gods.But before the sweet oblivion of a dead faint claims me, I hit the ground with a resounding thump.
“Ow.” Pain lances through every inch of my body, but I don’t care. Nothing can be worse than falling ... and falling. Laughter trickles out of me in unhinged relief.
“Daughter.”
I stop laughing. I stopbreathing. Keeping my gaze lowered, I push against the ground—a distant part of me recognizes the silver road—and get to my feet. Even after I stand, swaying on unsteady legs, I don’t dare look up.
“Come, daughter,” my mother says. “Let me hold you.”
My breath comes in short, unsteady pants, and I finally raise my head. The dark surrounds me, but I see her in the ghostly glow of the silver road. She is only a few yards away, wearing a plain beigehanbok, with her hair in a neat, low bun.
“Mother?” Tears blur my vision. I wipe them away with an impatient swipe of my hand. I can’t see her if I’m crying.
“Yes, Mihwa.” She nods and holds her arms open with a warm laugh. “Come, daughter.”
I take a step, then falter, my eyes narrowed in confusion. “But how?”
“Does it matter?” Her smile is sad but beautiful.
“No.”Gods, I missed her.“I guess it doesn’t.”
I run toward her but stumble to a stop again. This can’t be my mother.
But she’s right here.
Why shouldn’t I get to hug her—to feel her arms around me—one more time? I work so hard. Don’t I deserve this one thing?
I take one step, then another—faster and faster until I’m sprinting. She’s so close.Almost there.I stretch out my hand. My fingertips nearly skim hers, when I’m yanked back, like I have a bungee cord wrapped around my waist, and I crash onto the ground where I started.
“Mother,” I scream, straining against the invisible hold.
“Behave, Mihwa.” Daeseong steps behind my mother and wraps his hands around her throat.
“You,” I snarl. “Get away from her.”
“Mi—” My mother gags and gurgles as her fingers claw at the darkmudang’s hands. “Mihwa, bewitch him. Make him stop.”
“But Mother, I swore never to use that despicable power.Youmade me swear it.” I slowly shake my head. “I c-can’t. I won’t. I don’t want to be a monster like him.”
“Please, daughter. Bewitch him,” she cries. “Save me. Please.”
“It’s ... not right,” I croak. “I ... I have to try t-to do better.”
“He’skillingme.” Her eyes glow red.
“Wh-what ...” I bury my fingers in my hair. “What’s happening?”
“Sometimes, you have to do bad things for the right reasons.” My mother’s eyes are back to the warm brown they have always been, and they glisten with unshed tears. “I don’t want to die, Mihwa.Bewitch him.Don’t let him kill me.”
I blink.But Daeseong already killed her.I draw in a shuddering breath.Mother is dead.A wail rises to my throat like I’ve lost her again, but I fist my hands, my nails digging into my palms. This isn’t her.
“Mother wouldneverask me to condemn myself to save her.” She isn’t real. But I miss her so much that I still want to run to her. “Who are you?”
“Me?” She points at herself, another sad smile curving her lips. Blood blossoms like crimson poppies over herhanbokuntil it stains the fabric red. “I am your mother. The one you let die to keep your hands clean.”
I shiver from the memory of my mother’sgumihorearing up on her hind legs to shield me from Daeseong’s dark magic. I remember her crumpling to the ground as her life bled out of her—and how she died in my arms. The female standing in front of me isnotmy mother.
