NOAH
Dinner was a special kind of torture.
The kind that looked perfect from the outside… a warm family gathering, delicious food, laughter filling the air… but felt like slowly drowning from the inside.
The seating arrangement said everything.
My father sat at the head of the table, naturally. The patriarch. The king of this little kingdom.
My mother sat to his right, close enough to serve him, attend to him, make sure his glass never went empty.
And Nick sat to his left.
The place of honor.
Right beside our father, where everyone could see him, where every smile and laugh and clever comment would be noticed and appreciated.
I was at the far end.
Squeezed between Aunt Mirae and Mrs. Choi from church, two elderly women who spent the entire meal talking across me like I was a piece of furniture.
"...and then I told her, 'You can't just plant tomatoes anywhere... '"
"Oh, I know! The soil has to be just right... "
"Exactly! And the drainage... "
