THE LAST RHEE WITCH

Twelve-year-old Ronnie Miller finds answers to her past at a summer camp in Central Washington.

Korean American Ronnie is growing up in Seattle with her widowed dad, who’s a transracial adoptee raised by white parents. She’s full of insecurities about her limited grasp of Korean language and culture. And ever since her birthday, Ronnie hasn’t been able to stop speaking in rhymes. Encouraged by her dad, she agrees to give summer camp a try—at least Jack Park, her best friend, who’s Korean and white, will be there, too. One night around the campfire, a counselor tells a ghost story: The camp was built on the site of the estate of the wealthy Rhee family, six of whom were murdered. Now, the nearby forest is said to be haunted by the ghost of Min-Young, the last daughter and Rhee heir. Ronnie suddenly realizes that she’s already seen the gwishin, or Korean ghost—a pale figure with hollow eyes, stringy black hair, and a red scarf around her neck—standing at the edge of the woods. The plot quickly thickens as Ronnie continues to encounter the gwishin. This deftly crafted, page-turning narrative features a broadly diverse cast. As the story unfolds, a world of dokkaebi (goblins), witches, and magic is revealed, and Ronnie satisfyingly overcomes her self-doubts, figures out the rhyming situation, uncovers a long-running conflict, and returns home with a new sense of self.

Rich in Korean mythology and suspense; will keep readers guessing.