Chapter 28: Ghost

NOAH

By the time the guests started arriving, I’d transformed into a ghost.

Invisible. Silent. Useful only for carrying things.

The doorbell rang, and I heard my father’s booming voice from the entryway.

“Robert! Patricia! So glad you could make it!”

Warm. Welcoming. The kind of voice he never used with me.

I was in the kitchen, arranging banchan in small ceramic dishes, when my mother appeared beside me.

“Take these out,” she said, gesturing to a tray laden with side dishes. “And refill the water glasses. Then come back for the japchae.”

I nodded and lifted the tray.

The dining room was already filling up with people.

Aunts and uncles I barely remembered. Elderly neighbors who’d watched Nick and me grow up and had clearly picked their favorite. My father’s work colleagues in their business casual attire. My mother’s church friends, all smiles and polite conversation.

The divide was immediate and obvious.

My father and Nick stood near the entrance, greeting guests like they were hosting royalty. Shaking hands. Accepting compliments. Laughing at jokes.

Meanwhile, my mother and I moved through the background like stagehands in a play, setting the table, arranging food, making sure everything was perfect.

Nobody thanked us.

Nobody even noticed.

I set the banchan on the table and started refilling water glasses, moving quietly from seat to seat.

That’s when I heard my father’s voice rise above the general chatter.

“Yes, Nicholas just made Attending Surgeon at Presbyterian Medical Center!”

I froze.

The glass in my hand hovered over an empty cup.

“My goodness!” A woman’s voice—Mrs. Kim from down the street. “You must be so proud!”

“Of course.” My father’s chest seemed to puff out. “He’s always been exceptional. Top of his class since elementary school. Valedictorian in high school. Graduated summa cum laude from Johns Hopkins.”

Another voice chimed in, one of my father’s colleagues. “And so young! How old is he now?”

“Twenty-six,” my father said. “Youngest Attending Surgeon in the department.”

“And so handsome too!” Mrs. Kim again. “Is he seeing anyone?”

My father laughed. “Too busy saving lives! But when he settles down, she’ll be a lucky woman.”

The group laughed along with him.

I stood there in the doorway between the kitchen and dining room, tray still in my hands, feeling like I’d been punched in the stomach.

My chest felt tight.

My throat burned.

I couldn’t move.

Couldn’t breathe.

Twenty-six years old, and my father talked about Nick like he’d hung the moon and the stars.

Meanwhile, I was also twenty-six and might as well have not existed.

“Noah!”

My mother’s sharp voice cut through the fog.

I blinked.

She was standing beside me, glaring. “Stop standing around! There are more dishes!”

The guests hadn’t even noticed me. They were still clustered around my father and Nick, listening to another story about Nick’s brilliance.

I turned and walked back into the kitchen on autopilot.

Set the tray down.

Picked up another one.

Went back out.

Over and over.

Like a machine.

***

I was refilling water glasses again when the words slipped out before I could stop them.

“When did Nick get promoted?”

My mother was across the table, adjusting the placement of a serving dish. She didn’t look up.

“Last week. They announced it at the hospital board meeting.”

My hand stilled on the water pitcher.

Last week.

A week ago.

And nobody told me.

Not a text. Not a phone call. Not even a casual mention.

Just… nothing.

Like it didn’t matter whether I knew or not.

Because I didn’t matter.

My chest tightened.

The words came out quietly. Carefully.

Testing the waters.

“I… I got promoted too. Recently.”

My mother stopped.

Actually stopped.

She turned to look at me, and for the first time all evening, her eyes were actually focused on me.

“What?”

My heart started racing.

This was it. This was my chance.

Maybe if I told her, she’d be proud. Maybe she’d smile. Maybe she’d tell my father and he’d finally look at me the way he looked at Nick.

“I got promoted,” I said, standing a little straighter. “To Executive Assistant. To the CEO of XUM Corporation.”

My mother’s eyes widened.

Actual surprise.

Actual interest.

“The CEO?” Her voice rose slightly. “Cassian Wolfe?”

“Yes.”

For a moment, she just stared at me.

And then her face lit up in a way I hadn’t seen in years.

“Yeobo!” she called out toward the living room, voice loud and excited. “Yeobo! Noah got promoted!”

The chatter in the dining room died down.

Heads turned.

My mother was already moving toward the doorway, waving for my father to come.

“He’s working directly under Cassian Wolfe!”

My father appeared in the doorway, drink in hand, eyebrows raised.

“What? Noah?”

Nick appeared behind him, expression unreadable.

My mother was practically vibrating with excitement now… an emotion I’d almost forgotten she was capable of.

“He says he’s Executive Assistant to Cassian Wolfe!”

The room went quiet.

Everyone was looking at me now.

My father’s face shifted through several expressions in rapid succession.

Skepticism. Disbelief. And then something else—concern? Fear? Like maybe, just maybe, it might actually be true.

He walked closer, studying me like I was a puzzle he couldn’t quite figure out.

“Is this true?”

I nodded. “Yes.”

“How did you…” He paused, clearly struggling to process this. “When did this happen?”

“This week.” I tried to keep my voice steady, confident. “Mr. Wolfe recognized my work and offered me the position.”

A lie of course but I couldn’t tell them I actually signed myself away.

A guest… one of my mother’s church friends… spoke up from the table.

“Oh my! The Wolfe family! They’re incredibly selective!”

Another voice joined in. “I heard Cassian Wolfe is ruthless but brilliant!”

For one brief, shining moment, I felt it.

Pride.

Validation.

The attention I’d been craving my entire life.

And then Nick stepped forward.

His smile was sharp. Clinical.

“That’s… surprising,” he said, voice light and friendly. “Very surprising.”

I turned to look at him. “Why is that surprising?”

He laughed—a soft, amused sound that made my skin crawl.

“No offense, Noah, but the Wolfe family is known for being extremely particular about who they put in executive positions.”

The temperature in the room seemed to drop.

Nick continued, still smiling, still friendly, but every word was a knife.

“Even at Presbyterian… which they partially own… Charles Wolfe doesn’t tolerate mediocrity in leadership roles. He’s fired people for less than stellar performance reviews.”

He paused, letting the implication hang in the air.

You’re mediocre. You’ve always been mediocre.

“Executive Assistant to the CEO is a highly visible position,” Nick went on, addressing the room now like he was giving a lecture. “It requires impeccable credentials, extensive experience, proven track record…”

He turned back to me, head tilted slightly.

“Are you sure you didn’t misunderstand your title?”

My fists clenched at my sides.

“I didn’t misunderstand anything.”

Nick shrugged, the picture of casual dismissal. “I’m just saying, it seems… unlikely. You don’t have to make up lies to impress Mom and Dad.”

The words hit me like a physical blow.

Make up lies.

He thought I was lying.

“I’m not lying!” My voice came out louder than I intended. Sharper. “You can come visit me at work if you don’t believe me!”

The tension in the room was suffocating now.

Guests exchanged uncomfortable glances.

My mother’s expression had shifted from excitement to something else.

Disappointment.

Embarrassment.

Not again, Noah. Why do you always cause scenes?

My father cleared his throat, stepping forward with his drink raised.

“Well!” His voice was smooth, practiced. “Whatever the case, let’s not discuss work at a birthday celebration. Come, everyone, let’s toast!”

Just like that, the attention shifted.

Away from me.

Back to him.

The guests followed my father back toward the dining room, the moment already forgotten.

My mother shot me a look… sharp, cutting… before turning to follow them.

And Nick walked past me, deliberately bumping his shoulder into mine.

“Nice try,” he muttered, just loud enough for me to hear.

I stood there in the now-empty doorway, heart pounding, hands shaking.

That brief moment of validation?

Gone.

Crushed.

Like it had never existed at all.

I took a breath, forced my expression into something neutral, and went back to the kitchen.

Back to being invisible.

***

The dinner itself was a blur.

Laughter. Toasts. My father’s friends telling stories. My mother beaming as guests complimented her cooking.

And me, sitting at the far end of the table, squeezed between two elderly aunts who talked over me like I wasn’t there.

I pushed food around my plate.

Smiled when I was supposed to.

Nodded when someone made a comment in my general direction.

But inside, I was numb.

Hollowed out.

I watched Nick hold court at the other end of the table, charming and charismatic, making everyone laugh.

I watched my parents glow with pride every time someone complimented him.

And I realized, with a sinking certainty, that nothing had changed.

Nothing would ever change.

I could become CEO of the entire damn company, and it still wouldn’t be enough.

Because I wasn’t Nick.

And I never would be.

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