The Eyes Are the Best Part

by Monika Kim

There’s a cracked vase on the side table next to the couch, the one Appa used to hate. Umma never let him throw it out because it was a gift from her mother, who passed away years ago. She runs her finger along the split, and I find myself wondering: Is it my father she’s remembering, or her mother?

To celebrate the end of my first quarter, Umma cooks up a feast. Korean-style sashimi that she fillets herself with fish purchased from the supermarket, complete with a spicy gochujang dipping sauce. Salmon heads fried in a sizzling pan. Gyeran-mari, a rolled egg omelet, with bits of carrot, green onion, and ham. Bubbling doenjang jjigae filled with soft tofu and zucchini. Smoke unfurls in the apartment, setting off the alarm in the kitchen.

The doorknob rattles. I look up in time to see it burst open, Ji-hyun standing triumphantly in the doorway, hairpin in hand. “Unni! Don’t cry. Do you want me to kill him? I’ll kill him,” she says. “Just tell me what you want me to do.”