She snorts. “Who said I wanted your permission? Didn’t you hear me drone on about choice before? If I want to share my magic with you, who are you to stop me?”

I stare at her, wondering what I ever did to deserve such a fearless sister.

Hattie lowers her voice, and there’s an excited twinkle in her eye. “Looks like we need to get our sticky hands on a certain spellbook, wouldn’t you say?”

As she drags me to Appa’s consultation room to fetch him, I hear a small voice in my head.

Could I actually become a healing witch—a real Gom? Could this be my chance to do my parents proud and prove to the gifted community that I belong?

I know I shouldn’t get my hopes up. It’d just be a recipe for disappointment.

But here’s the real crux of the problem, folks: I, Riley Oh, have a sweet tooth.

And hope? Well, hope tastes sweeter than candy.

2: Saturday Is Temple Day

H-MART IS ONE OF MY FAVORITE places in the world. I mean, it’s hard not to love it. It’s a grocery store full of the most delicious things: every variety of gimchi you could ever dream of, ice cream in the shapes of watermelon wedges and corncobs, and don’t forget the little counter that sells tornado fries (basically an entire potato spiraled out and fried on a stick—drool).

But those aren’t the only reasons I love this particular H-Mart. It’s also one of the secret entrances to the temple. The gifted community is really paranoid about their secret getting out into the saram population, so the Gumiho clan (they’re the illusionists) use their glamour magic to hide us in plain sight. Genius, really.

For example, right now, my family and I are walking through the refrigerated aisle of brightly colored milk drinks, past the sweet-potato-cake stand, and toward the counter that sells Korean fried chicken. To the saram eye, the cherubic-faced man at the counter might look like an ordinary chicken vendor. But those of us from the gifted clans know he’s actually a Miru guard. The Miru clan are protectors descended from the Water Dragon Goddess. They have either superhuman strength or speed, which make them ideal for protecting our secret portals and entrances.

“Hi there. Could I interest you in some K-fry today?” he says brightly.

In response, Eomma and Appa each rub their wrists together, and their Gi bracelets reveal their gifted marks.

“These two are with us,” Appa adds, nodding at Hattie and me.

The Miru protector checks out the gold symbols on my parents’ wrists, and then he nods toward the swinging door to his left, which leads to the kitchen. “You may pass.”