“,” I swear, tumbling over dry leaves and long legs and stray branches. My vision is spinning violently; I feel vomit rising up in my throat. The moment my body stops moving I promptly upend the contents of my stomach onto the ground.

I draw in a deep, shaky breath. Exhale slowly. My vision begins to shift into focus.

Jin and I are lying amidst thick, coarse underbrush in the middle of a forest. Tendrils of bright sunshine snake through the branches of the looming redwood trees, illuminating the coarse dirt beneath our bodies. The only sound in the air is the whirring of cicadas. My chest rises and falls rapidly; if I allow my mind to stray, I feel like I’m back on the bridge, tipping over until my body’s sliding through the air.

“We need to get back to Windsong,” I finally murmur, sitting up. “Where did you teleport us to?”

“We are in Windsong. This is the forest,” Jin responds. He is still lying on the ground. I have to pull on his hands until he finally gets up.

“I’m not ready to face everything,” he moans. “They know we’re trying to save Lucy now. We’re going to face an inquisition. Or get put on lockdown.”

“I know. But better we confront them first instead of having them hunt us down.”

Every nerve in my body is buzzing like it’s been electrified. Pure adrenaline courses through my veins- I feel completely ing wired, like everything’s in crystal clear focus and the panic has kicked my brain into high gear. When Taehyung cuts me off in the foyer after I stride into his house, I don’t even flinch.

“Where the did you go?” he slurs. His eyes are bloodshot but fighting to focus, like he accidentally smoked himself out right before he learned disastrous news.

I shrug, trying to sidestep him, but he grabs my wrist. There is an odd twist to his face- is that... anger?

But it doesn’t seem to be directed at me. My eyes narrow as I study his face.

It’s fear.

“Sorry for scaring you,” I say.

My words don’t placate him. If anything, the tension in his expression grows.

“What did you do,” he whispers.

And then a deep voice behind him says, “Hello, Jooyeon.”

Taehyung’s face drops. Both of us jerk around to face the source of the sound.

My stomach seizes in fear.

A tall, imposing figure that I’ve only seen in family portraits in the living room stands in front of us. He looks like the spitting image of Taehyung, like if you put Taehyung in a time machine and flung him forward 30 years. The cold look in his dark brown eyes is identical to the one his son has thrown at me countless times; his arrogant stance, as if he is entitled to everything in the world, is the same as Taehyung’s.

Except I know the soft lines on Taehyung’s face when he smiles down at me. His cocky smirk when he’s rendered me speechless. I know that there is weakness left in him.

Mr. Kim is an immutable sculpture of dry ice.

This is a creature of pure power.

My body involuntarily jerks back. I try to clutch my hands behind my back to hide how hard they are trembling, but Taehyung’s father can sniff the fear on me like a bloodhound. There’s no way he doesn’t know the terror he creates in others.

“It’s a shame we didn’t meet during the year you lived here. But at least you’re staying here again.” His lips curl up in a humorless smile. “We want to make sure you’re safe. Although it seems like you have a penchant for getting yourself into trouble.”

“Leave her alone,” Taehyung growls, stepping in front of me protectively.

His father ignores him. “Come with me, Jooyeon. We need to have a talk.”

“I’m coming, too.”

Mr. Kim looks at his son. His gaze roves over his rumpled brown hair, his petulantly balled fists, the juul peeking out of the pocket of his oversized grey hoodie. The contempt in his expression intensifies.

“No,” he simply says.

Shame and fury wash over Taehyung’s face. I feel horribly embarrassed for him.

“Follow me,” Mr. Kim says.

I nervously glance at Taehyung for an instant.

Stay, he is silently begging me.

“I’m coming,” I say quietly.

“We’re joined by Shannon Slafer, who’s live at the scene of the explosion.”

The camera cuts to a perky blonde reporter holding an ABC 7 microphone. “Thanks, David. I’m at the Tappan Zee bridge- as you can see, it’s been almost completely decimated-,”

Mr. Kim snaps his fingers. The channel changes to FOX News.

“-estimated billions of damage- city officials are working around the clock to identify the cause. Somehow, there have been no casualties-,”

CNN snaps into frame. “A freak accident of these proportions has never been seen before. Back to you, Jeremy-,”

Taehyung’s father slashes his hand, and the TV channels fizzle out of the air. My hands uneasily twist in my lap.

“What an interesting morning,” he says. “Not only does your old friend destroy a $3 billion bridge, but we discover an 18-year-old Hado spy, too.”

My blood runs cold- Tom. “He- he isn’t-,”

Mr. Kim cuts me off. “Don’t lie. Jess Jeon knows what she saw. A magic user who isn’t a part of the Kado can only belong to one other party.”

“He was helping keep the bridge up- he’s not a threat, he’s helping us get Lucy-,”

“We don’t need the Hado helping us,” Mr. Kim responds in a glacial tone. His eyes are utterly emotionless. I feel like I am wasting his time with my mere presence and I hate how my body is shrinking in on itself.

I zero in on that hatred- that self-resentment for being weak, that helpless despair. Anger strikes a match against my ribs, lets the red-hot flames flicker up into my chest. My fists ball at my side.

“We can make Lucy leave the Kado alone,” I say in a low, biting voice. “All she needs is compensation. Immunity from prosecution, rights to practice her magic in peace. Access to magical weapons.”

Mr. Kim lets out a short bark of mirthless laughter. “Oh, you and your little friends must’ve thought about this really hard.”

“You stole her memories- these concessions would just be the tip of the iceberg-,”

“And have you actually asked Lucy Chen if she agrees? Did she say that she’d leave Windsong if she got these things?”

I flounder for a second, flustered by the knowledge that she hasn’t. “No, but we’ll get her to agree-,”

“She is not going to give up without the councils’ deaths,” Mr. Kim utters. “You’re a fool if you can delude yourself into thinking she’ll end this peacefully. And even if she does agree- she killed three Kado council members. My peers. She must be brought to justice.”

The door opens with a click! I whip my head around to face the sudden intrusion. Taehyung’s mom is standing in the doorway, an oversized cashmere sweater draped over her willowy frame. Her face has always held smile lines and pink cheeks when she’s gazed upon me; now, however, there is a hard fury burning through her as she stares at her husband.

Mr. Kim’s cruel, distant expression fades as he sees her. His eyes are still pulsing with intensity- just not of the callous type.

“Darling,” he says softly.

“How dare you,” Mrs. Kim hisses. “She goes through something traumatizing- she nearly dies- and your first instinct is to interrogate her like this? Are you out of your mind?”

“This is a time-sensitive issue,” Mr. Kim says in a voice that cannot exactly be called gentle, but is the closest he can get to it. “I want Joohyun to understand the situation is out of her control-,”

“You think she doesn’t understand that? She’s a human who’s been living in Windsong for two years.” Mrs. Kim all but yanks me out of the wooden chair I’m sitting in. “You’re not talking to her anymore.”

Mrs. Kim’s chest is heaving as we hurry out of the study, up another flight of stairs. My eyes are round with astonishment. When we get to my bedroom, she turns to face me.

“I’m so sorry, Joo,” she breathes. “I’m so sorry.”

This is the first time she’s acknowledged that I know about magic.

My mouth opens to say words, but none come out.

Mrs. Kim clasps my hands in mine. “Are you okay?”

I blink.

“Yeah,” I say, before I burst into hysterical tears.