Freddy and Hazel’s relationship had never been perfect, but it completely shattered the day their parents’ will was read.
What should’ve been a moment of mourning and unity turned into something cold and tense. When the lawyer, Mr. Schneider, began reading the will, Freddy sat as still as he could, holding his expression like a pro poker player. He couldn’t let anyone—especially Mark—see how angry or hurt he really felt. Mark, Hazel’s fiancé, sat beside her, grinning like the Cheshire Cat, looking way too pleased with himself.
“Mr. Schneider, but why did I get the main house?” Hazel interrupted, not even letting the lawyer finish reading.
Freddy glanced sideways. Mark’s hand tightened on Hazel’s knee.
“Your parents knew that you deserved that house more, babe,” Mark said with a smirk.
Freddy’s stomach turned. That voice, that smug attitude—Mark was always good at sounding fake sweet while saying something cruel.
“Why does she deserve it more?” Freddy blurted out before he could stop himself. He hadn’t planned on saying anything, but Mark’s smugness was just too much. He’d never understood what Hazel saw in him. Everyone knew Mark was in it for the money and the status.
Mark rolled his eyes like Freddy was a child interrupting grown-up talk. “Your parents met me. They know your sister and I are planning to get married, have a family. All you care about is traveling. You never brought a girl home. So naturally, the big house goes to a potential family.”
He shrugged, like that explained everything.
“Mark, that’s not fair,” Hazel mumbled, but her voice was soft and unsure—like she always sounded these days when Mark was around.
“It’s more than fair, babe,” Mark chuckled, like he was being reasonable. “Why are you looking at me like that? Your parents did this, not me.”
Freddy stayed quiet, but he could feel his poker face starting to slip. The lawyer looked uncomfortable too, using the silence to finish reading the rest of the will.
When it seemed like he was done, Hazel raised her hand like she was back in school.
“Yes, Hazel?” Mr. Schneider smiled gently.
“Maybe it would be better if we both sold those properties and divided the profits,” Hazel suggested. Her voice was still shaky, but there was a flicker of courage in her tone that made Freddy feel proud for a second.
But Mark looked ready to explode. “You gotta be kidding me,” he scoffed. “Are you really going to go against your parents’ wishes? Come on, in this economy, your brother could fix that old house up and still make a killing selling it. It’s not a handout. It’s more than fair, considering everything.”
“Mark, maybe you should step out,” Freddy said quietly.
“So you can talk her into something she doesn’t want to do?” Mark mocked. “No way. Doreen and Milton knew Hazel loved that house growing up. They knew our kids would need a safe, loving home. Your parents never even knew if you’d settle down or have kids considering—”
“Considering what, Mark?” Freddy’s voice turned cold, his jaw clenched.
“You know what,” Mark said with a shrug.
“No, I don’t know,” Freddy snapped, leaning forward.
“Gentlemen, please,” the lawyer said, trying to keep things from getting out of hand.
“Freddy,” Hazel warned, looking at him with eyes full of conflict. “Maybe Mark is right. Our parents were… old-fashioned.”
Freddy’s heart twisted. Just minutes ago, she had suggested the most fair, equal solution. Now she was backtracking because her fiancé didn’t like it?
“Old-fashioned? That’s what you’re calling it?” Freddy asked, trying to hold back the bitterness.
“You know what I mean,” Hazel sighed. “They weren’t mean. They loved you. But they came from a different time. They didn’t always understand… how things work now. They never knew if you could have kids the way you… live.”
Freddy stared at her. “It’s the 21st century, Hazel. They could’ve watched any movie or show and figured it out.”
“Mark is right, Freddy,” Hazel said more firmly now, standing straighter. “They gave me the big house. You get Dad’s old place. It’s not that bad. It’s a decent neighborhood. And it’s their decision.”
“A decision based on their prejudice?” Freddy pressed.
“Stop it!” Hazel snapped, her eyes narrowing. “I won’t let you talk about them like that. They were old. Things were different then. They didn’t learn better. You haven’t been around in years. You don’t get to come back acting like a spoiled brat and demanding more.”
“ME? I’m the spoiled brat?” Freddy stood up, pointing at himself. “You’re the one who got everything! Especially after they figured out who I really was. Dad didn’t even try to hide his favoritism anymore. Just because I didn’t like football and loved theater!”
“He still paid for all your dumb plays and costumes!” Hazel shouted, standing too. “You think that stuff was cheap?”
“It wasn’t even half of what they spent on you!” Freddy yelled back, knowing how childish he sounded but unable to stop. “They used to love me. Until I changed. Until they saw the real me.”
Hazel’s eyes filled with tears. “Stop,” she whispered. “They were good parents.”
Freddy wanted to scream, to throw every painful memory at her—but then he looked at Mark, who was smiling again. That smug little smile like he had won. Freddy swallowed his words.
“Fine,” he said, waving his hand. “I’ll take the house.”
He slumped back into the chair as Mr. Schneider went over the last legal documents. Outside, Mark draped his arm around Hazel’s shoulder and looked at Freddy.
“I’m glad you finally acted your age, Freddy,” he said. “This is really what’s best. Now you can go off, have your fun, date whoever you want.”
Freddy clenched his fists but said nothing. Hazel had wiped away her tears and now stood by Mark’s side like nothing had happened. Freddy gave them a tight nod and walked away.
The house was old, dusty, and full of memories Freddy never had—but it was his.
It was better than he thought, really. His dad had bought it years ago before marrying Doreen. They moved out after Hazel was born and never looked back. Now it was Freddy’s, and whether or not he deserved it, he was going to make it his home.
The first day, Freddy walked from room to room, taking notes. The bathrooms were outdated. The kitchen looked like something from a 70s horror movie. And when he looked up remodeling costs online, he nearly screamed.
Thousands of dollars… just for labor.
“I could learn how to do it myself,” he said aloud, reaching for his laptop. “How hard could it be?”
Spoiler: It was really hard.
But Freddy didn’t give up. He was used to challenges. He had studied theater, traveled the world, and worked as a freelance photographer. He knew how to adapt. So he started with the kitchen. Laying tile, choosing paint, replacing cabinets—it felt like creating art again.
“See?” Freddy said, wiping sweat from his forehead after finishing one wall. “A theater kid with soft hands can do this.”
Two weeks later, the kitchen was done. Then came the bathrooms… and that’s when things got weird.
He walked into what must have been a small office room and saw something strange. A lump in the floor. At first, he thought the wood had rotted.
“Don’t tell me this’ll cost more,” he groaned and bent down.
But when he pressed on it, his hand went through. Not just rotten wood—a hidden trap door.
“What?” he muttered, grabbing his phone for light. Beneath the broken wood… were stairs.
“NOPE! NOPE! NOPE!” he shouted and backed away.
He covered the hole with a blanket, shut the door, put a chair against it like in a horror movie, and tried to pretend it didn’t exist.
“Let’s go paint the bathroom instead!” he laughed nervously.
But days passed, and he couldn’t stop thinking about the trapdoor.
So he called Mr. Schneider.
“How do I get the floor plans for this house?” Freddy asked.
“Municipal office,” the lawyer replied. “Is something wrong?”
“Well… I found a staircase. Hidden under the floor.”
Mr. Schneider chuckled. “Probably just an old basement. My dad’s house had a secret bomb shelter.”
“Could you find the plans for me?”
“Sure. I’ll try,” he promised.
A few days later, Mr. Schneider emailed him the original plans. There was a basement. But instead of a normal door, it was hidden by a trap door in the floor. Why?
“Could’ve been the original owner’s idea,” Mr. Schneider said. “You don’t have to explore it, though. Just patch it up.”
But Freddy couldn’t ignore it anymore. He had to know.
He got a sledgehammer, broke the rotting wood, and revealed the whole opening.
“It’s probably flooded,” he muttered, flashlight in hand, going down the stairs slowly.
The basement smelled like mildew. But it wasn’t scary—it was… odd. In the middle stood a desk, covered in papers and an old typewriter.
Freddy blinked. “Spooky. But interesting.”
He picked up one of the papers. It was a poem. At the bottom: Milton.
“Dad wrote this?” Freddy whispered.
He flipped through more pages—dozens of poems. All signed by his father. His eyes widened. Milton, the old-fashioned, football-loving, stern father… had been a poet.
He smiled. A real, full smile.
Then he saw a box. Old, ornate, heavy with dust.
He opened it carefully, sneezing from the buildup. Inside—more pages. Yellowed. Neatly stacked. They weren’t poems.
They were chapters.
“A novel…” Freddy gasped. “He wrote a book.”
He sat on his bed later that night, reading through pages of his father’s secret writings. The words were powerful, beautiful—even emotional. Freddy couldn’t believe it. His conservative, stubborn father had been an artist all along. Just like him.
“Is that why they gave me this house?” Freddy whispered. “To find this?”
Then he remembered something.
The last thing his father ever said to him before he left home:
“One day, you’ll understand.”
At the time, Freddy had assumed it was about rejection. About bias. About disappointment.
But now… maybe it was something else entirely.
Hazel let out a shaky breath. Her fingers gently placed the ornate wooden box and the pile of papers on the coffee table. Then she stood up, hands on her hips, pacing back and forth across Freddy’s living room. Her heels clicked sharply against the floor.
“No, no, no, no…” she muttered under her breath. Her face was pale with shock. “Look, obviously. I have nothing against you. I love you, and who you love is just part of who you are. But Dad… being gay? That’s… unbelievable.”
Freddy nodded slowly, his voice soft but firm. “I know. That’s why I called you over. But I really need you to read this book,” he said, his hand resting gently on the box. “I think Dad was struggling with a lot. He had to hide who he really was because back then, it wasn’t safe. I think he hated himself for it, and maybe… maybe he took that out on me because I was free to live how I wanted.”
Hazel stopped in her tracks. Her eyes welled up with tears as the weight of his words hit her. “What about Mom?” she whispered. “Did he… force himself to marry her? Did he build a fake life?”
“No, Hazie,” Freddy said softly. “I think he did love her. Just… in a different way. Maybe not the way she needed, but it wasn’t fake.”
Hazel let out a long sigh and finally sank into the armchair. She tucked her hair behind her ear, trying to calm down.
“It makes sense,” she said at last. “Your theory about the house… Dad wanted you to find this. He wanted you to know the truth. So maybe… maybe he didn’t hate you after all. Maybe he was just hurting.”
Freddy nodded, his eyes clouded with emotion. “I’m still angry about how he treated me all my life, but now I kind of understand it. And this book, Hazie—it made me realize something else. I think… I think Dad had a deep love for someone. Maybe a man. He never went to war like he claimed, but I think he used that as a metaphor—for his inner battle.”
He leaned closer, voice earnest. “I want you to read it. And if you’re okay with it, I want to publish it. With his name. His truth. All of it.”
Hazel’s voice cracked. “Oh, God… that sounds beautiful.”
Then Freddy hesitated, his eyes flicking to the door. “But Hazie, listen… I don’t want you telling your fiancé yet.”
Hazel frowned. “Why not?”
“Mark’s comments back at Mr. Schneider’s office were… worrying,” Freddy said, looking serious now. “I don’t like him, Hazie. Not as a person, and definitely not as your future husband. This thing—Dad’s truth—it’s just between us right now.”
Suddenly, the front door slammed open with a loud bang, making both of them jump. They had forgotten to close it. Freddy lived in a quiet, safe neighborhood, so it hadn’t seemed like a big deal—until now.
Mark stormed in like a thundercloud, his face red with fury. “What are you trying to make my wife hide from me?!” he barked.
Freddy blinked and muttered under his breath, “Future wife.”
Mark’s eyes flared, but Hazel was quicker.
“Mark! What are you doing here?” she snapped, clearly angry. “I told you I needed to talk to my brother alone!”
“I’m here because we’re about to be married!” Mark shouted. “I have a right to know what’s going on! I see he’s making you keep secrets from me. That’s not okay!”
Hazel rolled her eyes hard. “He’s not making me hide anything. He told me something private. Something that isn’t ready to be shared yet.”
Mark stepped closer, eyes narrow. “Did you just roll your eyes at me?”
Freddy didn’t waste a second. He stood up and stepped in front of his sister, protective. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
Mark let out a laugh that sounded more like a bark. “What? You think I was going to hit her? You’re insane!”
Freddy’s voice was calm but dangerous. “Call me whatever you want. Now get out of my house before I call the cops. You weren’t invited. You barged in.”
“I didn’t break in!” Mark shouted, eyes wild. “The door was open!”
“Then it’s trespassing,” Freddy shot back. “Either way, you’re leaving.”
“I’m your brother-in-law!” Mark yelled.
“Not yet,” Freddy replied coolly, glancing around for his phone. “And hopefully never.”
Mark turned to Hazel in disbelief. “Hazel! Are you really going to let him talk to me like that?”
Hazel crossed her arms. “It’s his house, Mark. You weren’t invited. Go home.”
Mark stepped back, putting on his best victim face. “I see what’s happening here. Your brother is poisoning your mind again. That’s why your parents didn’t leave him the house. They didn’t want you dealing with him anymore.”
Freddy had found his phone and was already dialing.
Hazel shook her head sadly. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ll explain everything later. This is just between me and Freddy.”
“I don’t care!” Mark yelled, then his eyes darted to the papers on the couch. Without warning, he lunged for them. “So this is the big secret, huh?! What’s in here?!”
“Mark! Be careful!” Hazel screamed, rushing forward as he grabbed the sheets and started rifling through them.
Freddy slammed his phone down and grabbed Mark’s arms hard. “Let them go. NOW!” he yelled into Mark’s face, his fury boiling over.
“Hazel, he’s hurting me!” Mark whined, his voice high and panicked. “He’s going to bruise me! I’ll press charges!”
“LET GO, YOU SPINELESS IDIOT!” Freddy barked again, gripping tighter.
“Mark! Just let go!” Hazel begged, trying to pry his fingers loose. “These are important!”
Finally, Mark’s hands opened, and the papers fluttered back onto the couch. Freddy quickly scooped them up, hugging the documents and the box to his chest.
He looked Mark dead in the eye. His voice was like ice. “Get. Out. Of. My. House.”
But Mark wasn’t done. “NO! I demand to know what’s in those papers!” he shouted, then narrowed his eyes. “Oh, I get it. You found something valuable, didn’t you? And you don’t want to share!”
Freddy’s breathing was heavy. Hazel swatted Mark’s arm. “Are you crazy? Even if he did find something, it would legally be his.”
“Shut up! Don’t you see?” Mark hissed. “He’s trying to screw us again. Just like with the house. He’s tricking you—manipulating you!”
Freddy watched Hazel closely. She was quiet, but her eyes were narrowing. Please don’t fall for his lies, Freddy prayed silently.
Mark leaned close to Hazel’s ear. “You know I’m right, babe. He’s always hated me. He’s trying to take you away from me.”
“Hazie, please don’t listen to that garbage,” Freddy said, arms crossed. “Even if you were with a great guy, I still wouldn’t have invited him. This secret is too personal.”
“See?! He’s insulting me again!” Mark pointed dramatically. “And you’re okay with that? We’re partners! We’re going to have a family! I don’t want my kids around someone who disrespects me!”
Freddy groaned. “This is ridiculous!”
Mark grinned, thinking he had the upper hand. “Tell me the secret, babe. If it’s about money, we’ll get our own lawyer. We’ll fight this!”
That was his mistake.
Hazel exploded. “ENOUGH!” she screamed, shoving Mark hard. He stumbled back and fell onto the couch. “I’m so tired of you! I can’t believe how long I’ve put up with this nonsense!”
“What?” Mark stuttered, confused.
“WE’RE DONE!” Hazel shouted. “All you care about is money! You sucked up to my dad, cried when he didn’t get you a job, and you’ve never worked a real job since! You thought you’d marry into money and be set for life!”
She let it all out. Every nasty thing he’d done, every manipulation, every lie. Freddy couldn’t help but chuckle at a few of them, though he tried to hide it.
Mark finally tried to defend himself. “This is your brother’s influence!”
“NO! THIS IS ALL ME!” Hazel screamed. “Finally me! I ignored every red flag, thinking I was scared of being alone. But that’s not a reason to stay with someone like you.”
She turned to Freddy, crying now. “I’m sorry about the house. I thought about selling it when I heard the will… but only because I didn’t want him to live here.”
“Oh, Hazie…” Freddy said, eyes glistening.
“But now I get it. If Dad could tell you his truth in his own quiet way… then I can do this. I can finally walk away from this loser.”
“Hazel!” Mark shouted, standing up.
“GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!” Hazel yelled.
“It’s my house too!”
“We’re not married!”
“I’ll fight you for it!”
“Good,” Freddy said, already dialing Mr. Schneider. “I’ll let our lawyer know.”
A minute later, the lawyer’s calm voice came over the phone. “Finally. Consider it handled.”
“MY RING! I WANT MY RING BACK!” Mark screamed.
“Your ring? That was my grandmother’s ring, and it’s MINE!” Hazel shouted. She grabbed his arm and dragged him to the front door.
“Freddy, tell her she’s lost it!” Mark begged.
Freddy laughed. “She’s not lost it. She finally found it. Good riddance, loser!”
Hazel slammed the door in Mark’s face and leaned against it, catching her breath.
“I think I need to stay here until Schneider makes sure he’s gone for good,” she whispered.
Freddy opened his arms. “Stay as long as you want.”
She ran into his hug. “Thank you.”
“Thank you for waking up,” he said into her hair.
She pulled back and smiled through her tears. “Now… can we order Chinese? I want to eat and read Dad’s novel.”
“Deal.”
AFTERMATH
Publishing their father’s book was easier than they thought. Freddy contacted LGBTQ+ publishers and told them the story. They were immediately touched and made a generous offer.
Hazel read the book one night and sobbed in Freddy’s arms. “I wish he could’ve lived without shame, without fear.”
“Me too,” Freddy whispered, crying with her.
“I’m sorry for how he treated you,” she said. Freddy just nodded.
When the money came, Hazel gave Freddy her share.
“I’m keeping the house. But the money? Dad left that to you.”
“Hazie, are you sure?”
“If someone makes a movie, I want in,” she laughed. “But the book royalties? All yours.”
Mr. Schneider kept his word. Mark disappeared, likely off to charm some other wealthy woman. Hazel didn’t care—he was out of her life.
Freddy remodeled the house and, feeling the travel itch, rented it out and left for a year. When he returned, Hazel was dating a new man—a kind, successful, loving guy who respected her and liked Freddy too.
The book didn’t become a bestseller, but it touched many hearts and received glowing reviews. Freddy later published his father’s poems, adding a heartfelt prologue about truth and love.
Because some secrets deserve to be told—and some families, no matter how broken, find their way back through honesty, courage, and love.
