WHEN WE WALK IN THE DOOR of Seoulful Tacos, the waft of smoky barbecued jackfruit and fresh gimchi salsa has me drooling. It smells so good in here, and I can’t believe how famished I am.

Taeyo grins as he looks around the restaurant. “Whoa, there’s loads of people in here. It’s going to be a hotbed for gwisin!”

“If you say so,” Emmett mumbles.

I’ve been here a million times before, but today I look around nervously as if I’m entering the place for the first time. Thankfully, I only see tables of live humans eating and ordering food. Phew.

We grab a booth by the window, and David Kim scurries over to give us menus. “Hey, Riley, nice to see you,” he says.

His cheeks are a little ruddy, as per usual, and when he smiles, his eyes disappear into his plump face. He’s wearing his Gi around his wrist, so his initiation ceremony must have been successful. I’m genuinely happy for him. He deserves it.

“Can I get some gimchi guac and corn chips to start, please?” I don’t even need to look at the menu.

“And a bulgogi taco for me, thanks, with extra gochujang hot sauce,” Emmett says. He looks over at Taeyo, who’s going cross-eyed at the size of the menu. “Actually, make that two.”

Taeyo looks up, grateful for the intervention, and Emmett takes his menu from him. “Trust me. You won’t be disappointed.”

David hurries off into the kitchen, and Emmett turns to Taeyo.

“So how do we do this, Bow Tie? We just open the app and put out a message?” He glances around our booth and shivers. “Are the gwisin all around us right now? I’m not, like, sitting on one, am I?”

Taeyo takes out his phone and opens an app called Ghostr. “First, you need to create a profile.”

He hands the phone to Emmett, who starts typing.

“Name? Emmett Harrison. What I’m looking for? My mom, Sookhee Harrison, who was killed by the Horangi thirteen years ag—”

“Allegedly,” Taeyo points out.

Emmett shrugs but adds the word to the profile. “Allegedly killed by the Horangi thirteen years ago. Relation to gwisin? Son. Favorite food? Bulgogi taco with extra gochujang sauce.” He pauses and looks over what he’s written. “That should do it.”

Taeyo takes the phone from him and saves the details. “Great. Your profile should now be out in the ether for all gwisin to see. You always get a bunch of random ghosts hoping for a match. But if we start swiping, hopefully we’ll get a match with your mom. If she’s nearby, she’ll respond.”

“This might seem like a silly question,” I say, “but where do the gwisin get their photos taken? And how do they load them into the app?”

“Oh, those are great questions,” Taeyo responds. “You know how there’s always a photo on the funeral altar?”

I nod. At gifted funerals, a large photo of the deceased is placed on an altar and surrounded by flowers, lit candles, and their favorite foods. That way loved ones can gaze at the person’s face and taste food on their behalf. Mourners can even write a letter and then burn it in the candle flames, which delivers the message to the other side.

“Well, I programmed the app to upload the funeral picture into the app’s back end,” says Taeyo. “When a gwisin decides to create a profile, it automatically syncs with that photo.”

“Impressive,” I say. “You’re really smart.”

Emmett rolls his eyes and imitates me in a high-pitched voice. “Oh, you’re so smart, Taeyo.”

I poke Emmett in the ribs—there’s no need to be rude when it’s the truth. But Taeyo just smiles. “Thanks, guys. That’s nice of you to say.”

Emmett doesn’t know how to respond to that, so instead, we huddle around Taeyo’s phone and wait to see what loads. The first photo that comes up is of a sour-faced man, with his name and profile below. It says his life was taken violently, and he is seeking revenge before he passes on to the Spiritrealm.

Taeyo swipes left. “That’s a hangry gwisin. I learned early on it’s best to avoid those.”

“Didn’t he read my profile?” asks Emmett. “I said I was looking for a mom.”

The next photo is of a super-pale woman dressed in white, with long black hair partially covering her face. Her head is angled down, but her black eyes are looking up with a steely gaze, and frankly, she totally gives me the creeps.

“‘My husband cheated on me, and when I tried to confront him, he killed me,’” Emmett reads out loud. “‘I don’t really want to pass on to the Spiritrealm—I’m enjoying haunting him too much. I’m just here to see what else is out there, and keep my options open. In my spare time, I enjoy crawling out of TV screens and taking long walks on the beach. Message me.’” Then Emmett adds with a shudder, “And there’s a kiss emoji.”

The three of us cringe in unison. “Swipe left, swipe left!”

We keep going until we run out of profiles. Emmett’s mom was not among them. The loading wheel keeps spinning, but no new gwisin come up.

“That’s a shame,” Taeyo says finally. “I thought it’d work, but I guess she’s not around here.”

Emmett tenses and fidgets with a napkin. “I knew we weren’t gonna find her. What a colossal waste of time. This is a stupid app.”

“Maybe she already passed through to the Spiritrealm?” I try.

Emmett turns away and shrugs.

“Sorry, Emmett,” Taeyo says, looking genuinely apologetic. “I really thought we could find her.” He turns to me. “Did you want to try locating your parents, Riley? We can change the profile and try again.”

For a moment, I’m tempted. I really am. But, looking at Emmett’s face, I decide against it. Maybe what Sora said is true, and my birth parents were good people. But this is not the time for a reunion.

I shake my head. “Is that it, then? The plan’s failed already?”

Taeyo sits up taller and taps his phone. “Well, there is one other thing we can try.” He reopens the profile page and types in his own info. Under What I’m looking for he says that he’s just an ordinary boy wanting to help nice ghosts reunite with their loved ones.

He looks up at us. “Sometimes a gwisin will ask if there’s anything they can do for you. Like grant a favor for helping them out. Gwisin aren’t tethered to a physical body, so they can roam the Earth at the speed of thought. I could ask one to search for the last artifact.”

“A gwisin would do that?” I ask, surprised.

He nods. “A nice one would.”

As he updates the profile, it dawns on me. Taeyo might not be fixing broken bodies like my parents do, but he’s helping broken souls find peace. If that’s not healing, I don’t know what is. Maybe Sora really was telling us the truth about the Horangi being wrongly accused. They don’t seem that bad….

“Let’s do it,” I say.

We huddle around the phone again and wait for the new profiles to load.

The first one that comes up is a photo of a translucent boy with a bald, egg-shaped head and big round eyes. His name is Casper, and it says he wants to connect with his crush, Kat, but his ghost uncles won’t let him. He needs help in convincing them otherwise.

“He seems like a friendly ghost, but those uncles sound kinda mean,” I say, frowning. “I’d rather avoid fighting with a ghostly trio if I can help it.”

The next profile shows a middle-aged woman hugging her pet turtle. She says she promised Crush a trip to Disneyland, but she died before she could take him. She’s looking for someone to pick up Crush from her sister’s house and accompany him on the Finding Nemo submarine ride. She wants him to learn about where he came from.

Emmett snorts, looking closer at the turtle. “That’s a red-eared slider. They’re freshwater turtles.”

“I’ve always wanted to go to Disneyland, but I don’t know. She sounds a little…different,” Taeyo says.

I nod. “We don’t have time for that anyway. Their lines are legendary. Let’s keep swiping.”

The next profile we get is the face of an old woman with sad but smiling eyes. Her name comes up as Jennifer’s halmeoni (aka Jennifer’s grandma), and her profile is short and straight to the point.

“‘I died peacefully in my sleep, but unfortunately, I didn’t get to do the one thing I needed to do,’” Taeyo reads aloud. “‘Please help me deliver a message so I can pass on to the next realm with peace in my heart. Thank you.’”

“Swipe right,” I say. “She sounds perfect.”

Emmett nods. “She seems okay.”

Taeyo complies, and we wait with bated breath.

Within a few seconds, the screen lights up with a bright notification accompanied by exploding streamers and balloons. IT’S A MATCH!

“OMG, she chose us, too,” Emmett says. He’s trying to hide it, but I can tell he’s excited. He glances sheepishly at Taeyo. “I guess your app isn’t that stupid.”

“Now what?” I ask.

“Now we wait for her to message us.”

The food arrives, and Taeyo takes a bite of his taco. He puts it down, and the grin on his face is so wide, he’s all teeth. “Oh, wow! This is so good.” He takes a picture of it with his phone. “I definitely want to remember this.”

A minute later, just when the taco has been demolished, a notification pops up on his phone. He’s received a message from Jennifer’s halmeoni.

Dear Taeyo,

Thank you for matching with me. From your profile it looks like you are a kindhearted young man, and I am grateful for your offer of assistance. I am seeking to deliver a message to my dear granddaughter, Jennie Byun. She is a Samjogo seeing witch who lives in this area. She has recently turned thirteen years old. I cannot leave for the Spiritrealm until I communicate with her. Will you be able to help?

I almost choke on my gimchi guac. “Of all people, we chose Jennie Byun’s halmeoni?” I groan. “What are the chances?”

I quickly shut my mouth. As much as Jennie is a pain in my butt, her halmeoni seems sincere. And if Taeyo, a cursed Horangi, can do something nice for strangers like us, then I should be able to do the same for Jennie. Plus, if it’s going to help us find the fallen star, it will all have been worth it.

Taeyo’s eyes light up. “Oh, you know this Jennie person?”

“I know her, all right,” I say, trying not to sound too Debbie Downer. “But I have no idea where she lives.”

“Neither do I,” Emmett echoes.

“I do.” We look up to see David Kim standing there with a tray of Milkis bottles. His cheeks go redder than usual. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but my eomma told me to give these to you—on the house—and I happened to overhear your conversation. I know where Jennie lives, and I’d be happy to take you there. It’s super close.”

Emmett’s eyebrows gather together. “Why would you help us?”

“Yeah,” I say. “And aren’t you working?”

David smiles shyly. “The app sounds amazing, and I know how much Jennie’s halmeoni means to her. So if you’ll let me, I’d really like to help. Besides, my parents don’t actually need me here. I’m just an extra pair of hands.”

Taeyo slaps his hands on the table. “We would love your help—thank you so much for offering. The more the merrier.”

Emmett and I share a look. David is a decent guy, but do we really want another person to join our mission? Three’s already a crowd….

David beams like a neon light at Taeyo’s invitation, though, so I keep my mouth shut. Hattie would probably say that more heads are better than one.

Emmett shrugs, too. And so, the next thing I know, we are leaving the deliciousness of Seoulful Tacos behind and heading to the house of my least-favorite person in the world, with a half-Gom, a Horangi, and a Tokki, to reunite my sworn enemy with her hungry ghost halmeoni.

I guess this is just my life now.