Jiyeon was convinced that her mother's old rice cooker was haunted. It was the kind of battered, once-white appliance that had yellowed with age and looked like it might spontaneously combust if you breathed on it the wrong way. The thing had survived two power surges, a kitchen fire, and, somehow, Jiyeon's childhood experiments with trying to make rice pudding without any milk.
Kang, of course, was having a field day with this new information. "Let me get this straight," he said, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes. "You're terrified of a rice cooker? The woman who faced down a Michelin food critic with a smile and sent them packing with an existential crisis is afraid of a rice cooker."
Jiyeon glared at him. "It's not just any rice cooker. It's demonic. It's got… sentience."
Yura snorted into her tea. "What, does it whisper dark secrets to you at night?"
