Freddy and Hazel’s sibling relationship broke down when their parents’ will was read, revealing an unfair division of their properties. But after moving into the abandoned place, Freddy discovered a trap door leading to a hidden area that revealed why he was given that home. Freddy held on to his poker face like a trained professional.
He couldn’t show any kind of reaction to this moment, mainly because his future brother-in-law was gloating like the Cheshire cat beside Freddy’s sister, Hazel. “Mr. Schneider, but why did I get the main house?” Hazel interrupted the lawyer before he could finish reading their parents’ will.
Freddy saw her fiancé, Mark, tightening his hold on her knee. “Your parents knew that you deserved that house more, babe,” Mark said, smirking slightly. “Why does she deserve it more?” The question simply slipped out of Freddy’s lips.
He didn’t want to do this, but Mark’s attitude always got on his nerves. He had no idea what Hazel saw in him, especially because everyone else knew Mark was an opportunist. Mark rolled his eyes at Freddy’s question.
“Your parents met me. They know your sister, and I had plans to get married and have children. All you like is travel.
You never brought a girl home, so naturally, the big house should go to a potential family,” he shrugged, still triumphant. “Mark, that’s not fair,” Hazel began, but she was using her typical timid voice, which had only appeared when she started dating the loser. “It’s more than fair, babe,” Mark insisted, laughing breathlessly.
“Why are you looking at me like that? I mean, your parents agree, obviously. They did this.
Not me.”
Freddy remained quiet but didn’t have much of a poker face anymore. The lawyer took advantage of the awkward silence to finish reading. Once everything seemed to be done, Hazel raised her hand like a high-schooler.
“Yes, Hazel,” Mr. Schneider smiled at her. “Hmmm, maybe it would be better if we both sold those properties and divided the profits,” she suggested, her timidness giving way to more bravery.
Freddy was proud of that quiet strength. “You gotta be kidding me,” Mark huffed. “Are you really gonna go against your parents’ wishes?
And come on. In this economy, your brother could fix up that house and still get a killing selling it. It’s not a stupid handout.
It’s more than fair, considering the circumstances.”
“Mark, maybe you should step out,” Freddy said quietly. “So you can talk your sister into something she doesn’t want to do?” Mark asked mockingly. “No way.
No. Doreen and Milton knew that Hazel loved growing up in that house, and they knew our children would be better off there. They never knew if Freddy would want to settle down in this town or even have kids considering—”
“Considering what, Mark?” Freddy asked, gritting his teeth.
“You know what,” he said, frowning. “No, I don’t know,” Freddy insisted, leaning forward in his chair. “Gentlemen, please,” the lawyer said.
“Freddy,” Hazel warned. “Maybe Mark is right. Our parents were… old-fashioned.”
Freddy was stumped for a second.
A minute ago, his sister had suggested the most reasonable course of action. If they both sold the properties and divided the profits in half, they could walk away with an equal share of these assets. But she was backtracking, not just because her fiancé was such a greedy loser, but also because…
“Old-fashioned?
That’s what you’re calling it?” Freddy asked through tight lips. “You know what I mean,” Hazel sighed. “They were not blatant about their opinions.
They loved and respected you. But things were different for their generation. They didn’t know how to accept certain things and what would be normal for you.
They never knew if you would or could ever have kids that way.”
“It’s the 21st century, Hazel. They could watch TV and movies and see how it works,” Freddy countered, barely containing his anger. “Mark is right, Freddy,” Hazel exclaimed as her attitude flowered.
Where was that tone when her fiancé spoke? “They left me the big house. You get Dad’s old place.
It’s not that bad. It’s a nice neighborhood. And either way, it’s their decision.”
“A decision they took because of their prejudices?”
“Stop it!” Hazel frowned.
“I will not allow you to talk about them this way. They were old. Things were different.
They never learned. You haven’t been around for years, and you don’t get to come here like a spoiled brat and act like you deserve more.”
“ME? I’m a spoiled brat?” Freddy asked, rising as he pointed at his chest.
“You’re the one that got everything. Everything. Especially after they realized the truth about me.
Dad couldn’t even hide his favoritism anymore because his only boy didn’t like football and preferred theater.”
“He still paid for everything for your stupid plays! All your costumes!” Hazel stated, also rising from her chair. “You think that was cheap?”
“It wasn’t half of what he paid for you!” Freddy said.
He knew immediately that his words made him sound like a petulant child — the spoiled brat, she claimed — but it was hard to stop them. “It was always unfair, and this is the final proof. But you know it wasn’t like that always.
It started when my personality developed. They knew all from then and changed.”
Hazel’s eyes water. “Stop,” she cried.
“They were good parents.”
Freddy was about to say more, to unleash the pain of all his years on his sister, but his eyes fleeted to Mark. The Cheshire cat grin was back, unconcealed and proud. Mr.
Schneider was just weary and concerned. So, Freddy bit his tongue and waved his hands. “Fine.
It’ll take the house,” he said, resigned. He plopped his booty back on the chair as the lawyer explained a few things, like what they needed to sign. Mark wrapped an arm around Hazel outside his office but looked at Freddy.
“I’m glad you finally acted your age, Freddy. This is really what’s best. Now, you can go off, have your fun, and date whomever you want.”
Freddy’s fist tightened, wanting to say more, but his sister’s face stopped him.
She had wiped her tears as their lawyer had gotten back to legal matters and remained expressionless at that moment. However, Hazel wrapped her arm around her fiancé’s waist, the gesturing showing that she was on his side entirely. So, he could only nod tightly at them and walk away.
***
Freddy moved into the abandoned house as soon as he received the keys. It was better than he imagined it. His father had bought it for a decent price, but after marrying Doreen, they moved into the big mansion that Hazel inherited.
It still stung that his parents didn’t think he was good enough to get it. Hell, I’m not good enough to receive a fair split of their estate. But it didn’t matter anymore.
It was his new house, and he had to take advantage of it. On the first day, Freddy assessed everything that needed repairs and settled on remodeling the bathrooms and the kitchen. But after doing a little research on the internet about renovation costs, he sighed loudly.
It would take thousands of dollars to make the place livable again, and that was only on labor costs. “I could learn how to do it myself,” he shrugged, reaching for his laptop again. “How hard could it be?”
Spoiler alert: It was pretty complicated.
But Freddy was never one to back down from a challenge, although remodeling was his most complex endeavor ever. He was a theater kid in school and loved anything related to life. When life in their town seemed too small and close-minded, Freddy decided to travel the world.
He fell in love with photography after buying a professional camera in Budapest and never looked back. He freelanced for several publications, and with the rise of social media, he had a steady income. When their parents died out of the blue in a car accident, he flew home to help Hazel get things settled.
Freddy had no idea their parents had arranged everything already. And the shock of the inheritance threw him for a loop. While he and Hazel hadn’t been in constant contact over the years, they had never been this estranged.
It felt awful, but defending their parents’ prejudice and taking her fiancé’s stance was a bit much. She has to apologize to me. I won’t call her, Freddy promised himself.
Thus, they didn’t talk for months, although he suspected she was still following his socials, where Freddy documented the renovation process, hoping to prove that many stereotypes weren’t true. He was using his hands, and it almost felt like doing artwork, too. Deciding on tiles and placing them in the best arrangement didn’t feel like a job reserved solely for macho men.
“See? A theater kid with no callouses on his fingers can do this, too,” Freddy said after finishing one wall. “But boy, it’s so much work!”
Two weeks later, Freddy finished the kitchen and moved to the bathrooms.
But he stared at the main one for a long time, sighing. Renovating was a lot of work, and the bathroom seemed trickier than changing a few cabinets and the tiles. Perhaps he should invest money in professional remodelers.
“Hmmm, maybe I can do something else,” he wondered, walking through the house talking to himself. “The bedrooms need new paint certainly. And the floor.
Wait, what is that?”
Freddy had just entered a small room, which must have been intended as a home office. But it was the first time he took it in and saw a strange protrusion in a corner. “Ugh, don’t tell me this floor is rotten or something.
How much will that cost?” he lamented, thinking the rest of his inheritance would have to be spent on real construction work. He bent a knee and touched the strange unevenness on the floorboards, and surprisingly, his hand went through the floor. “Yuck!
It is rotten,” Freddy noted, wiping his hands. But when he focused again, he realized a strange hollowness that shouldn’t have existed. “What?” Freddy muttered aloud and got his phone.
With his flashlight, he took a better look and saw… stairs leading into the darkness. “NOPE! NOPE!
NOPE!” he said, standing and walking away. His feet took him straight to his cupboard while shaking his head. Then, he unearthed a blanket and went back to cover the hole.
“No, sir! No Barbarian is going to take this twink away!”
He exited, closed the door tightly, put a chair against it, and went to his room. “Let’s remodel this bathroom!” Freddy exclaimed and tried to put that staircase out of his mind.
***
“Mr. Schneider, how do I find the floor plans for this house?” Freddy asked the lawyer days later. Although he tried not to think about the staircase, it was impossible.
But he wasn’t brave enough to remove the rest of the rotten floorboards and go down. “Oh, I believe you can find one at the municipal office. Why?
Is there something wrong with the house?” Mr. Schneider wondered. “No.
Well,” he paused. What could he say? “I think I discovered a basement, but it was hidden tightly beneath the floor.
And I didn’t want to explore. You know, in horror movies, when you start screaming at the girl not to go into that dark room or downstairs? That’s how I felt.”
“I see.
But if it’s there, it was probably a basement,” Mr. Schneider commented, unconcerned. “My father’s old house had a bomb shelter that we didn’t know about until he died.
Built it right during World War I.”
“And how old is this house?” Freddy asked. “I’m not sure,” the lawyer replied. “I could do some digging.
I may be able to find the floor plans for you, Freddy.”
“Thank you, Mr. Schneider,” he sighed happily. “I’m also remodeling on my own, so I need to know what’s down there.”
“I know.
My daughter follows your Instagram,” Mr. Schneider chuckled. “Give me a few days.”
Several days later, Mr.
Schneider sent the floor plans, and as suspected, the house always had a basement. But instead of adding a door like any other house, they placed the staircase beneath a sort of trap door. “This could’ve been a request from the original owner,” the lawyer speculated, but they had no way to find out the truth.
“You don’t have to look down there. Just replace the trap door and forget about it.”
But Freddy couldn’t forget it. Something in his mind started at him as if that room down there was why their parents had given him that house.
It could also be wishful thinking on his part. He wanted to have a better image of them. So, he took a slash hammer and destroyed all the rotten parts, which corresponded with the size of the trap door.
The rest of the floor seemed normal enough. “Oh, man. I bet it’s flooded down there,” Freddy muttered as he started going down.
He had his phone flashlight out and could smell the heavy scent of mildew and moisture in the air. “Great, this will be more money,” he muttered as he reached the bottom of the stairs. From what he could tell, it was just a regular room.
Except…there was a desk in the middle, littered with papers and an old-fashioned typewriter. “Spooky, but… interesting,” Freddy muttered, rolling his eyes at the idea that he had been the typical female main character in a horror flick. But this was very interesting.
Did Dad know about this place? Freddy wondered as his hands reached for one of the sheets on the desk. It had a small poem, and at the bottom of the page, he saw the name Milton.
“He wrote this?” he asked the empty air. Other papers had more poems, some longer than others, but they all had Freddy’s father’s name at the end. Just his first name.
What happened next changed everything…
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