His Endless Hate

When I died with a smile on my face, right before my brother's eyes, he looked as if the anguish might tear him apart.

Yet, for twenty-one years, he hadn't stopped wishing I would meet this exact end.

It all traced back to my fifth birthday—the day I had innocently hoped our parents would come home from their business trip to celebrate with me.

They rushed back that night but never made it. A car accident took both their lives.

From that moment on, my brother resented me, despised me.

He didn't just stand idly by as our cousin snatched up my work as her own; he encouraged it.

And when my landlord threw me out, it wasn't a random cruelty—it was my brother pulling the strings.

All he had ever wanted, from the very beginning, was to see me die a miserable death.

But when he finally got his wish… why did he cry, pleading for me to come back, begging me to call him 'brother' one last time?

Eternal Dawn

I had just gotten home when my phone rang. It was Ethan Perry.

The crumpled diagnosis paper was still in my hand.

His voice was as cold as ice. "Where are you now?"

Before I could answer, he barked another order. "Today is the launch event for Eternal Dawn. Get here on time. Don't be late."

And with that, he hung up—curt as ever, not a single unnecessary word.

The last rays of sunset filtered into the room. I sat at my desk and tore the diagnosis paper into shreds, watching them scatter across the table.

Just then, Ethan sent me an address.

Steeling myself, I exhaled deeply, then slipped on my finest dress and the one expensive piece of jewelry I owned.

If I were to go to this launch event, I would attend it in style. Eternal Dawn was, after all, my mother's last design sketch. I had poured my heart into bringing it to life, fulfilling her vision, stitch by careful stitch.

But when the host finally took the stage, he announced, "Please welcome the creator of Eternal Dawn, Hannah Lowe!"

I froze, half-standing, fingers clutching my dress. The entire scene was a cruel joke.

As curious eyes darted in my direction, I slumped back into my seat, my grip trembling.

Up on stage, Hannah clicked the mouse, displaying my work on the high-resolution giant screen.

The host then asked her about the inspiration behind the name Eternal Dawn.

She scanned the crowd and gave me a sweet, mocking smile. "As you all know, this design is my aunt's only surviving sketch from her lifetime," she explained, her voice tinged with nostalgia.

"The name Eternal Dawn is a tribute to her love for my uncle. She always spoke of spending every dawn and dusk together, from their youth to old age."

She paused, her eyes dimming as though overcome by emotion. "Each stitch carries my love and respect for her. My aunt's love was for my uncle, and mine is for her, my dearest mentor."

Her words landed a thunderous applause. But none was louder than the approving claps to my right—Ethan was gazing up at her with pride and admiration.

Clenching my fists, I forced myself to ask, "Why?"

Despite the noisy crowd, his voice reached me with chilling clarity. "Because you're unworthy."

His disdain cut deep.

"Letting your name taint Eternal Dawn would only insult Mom's legacy."