The Heir Who Died In The Closet

The first time I tried to end my life, I had just walked into the living room and saw the face of the fake young master—Brody Whitlock. It was the same face as the nanny who had spent five years tormenting me.

My parents found me and pulled me back, their eyes red and panicked. They promised, “We’ll never let him appear in front of you again.”

The second time, I was by the edge of the pool. Brody “accidentally” shoved me in. I gave up fighting, letting the water take me, pull me down into the deep, quiet dark.

I woke up again to the sight of my parents’ horrified faces. They swore by my bedside, “This time, we will make him pay.”

The third time, Brody locked me inside a walk-in closet.

As the air grew thin, and the suffocating darkness closed in, I finally gathered the strength to call out for help.

The call connected. I heard my parents’ voices, tired and laced with a desperate resignation:

“Can’t you just… let go of the resentment, Asher?” “That was his mother’s crime, why are you punishing him for it?”

I quietly ended the call. In the narrow darkness, I slowly hugged myself.

I’m sorry, Mom and Dad. I couldn’t let go of the resentment. So, I chose to let go of you.

1

The oxygen inside the closet was growing thin. The last flicker of self-preservation made me want to fumble for the handle, to find the release. The whole closet was swallowed by the dark, exactly like the damp, moldy basement I’d grown up in. I managed to shake off the trembling long enough to pull out my phone, needing a single sliver of light.

But the battery was on its final bar. It illuminated the space for barely a few seconds before dying again.

I smiled, a bitter twist of the lips.

Asher, isn’t this the freedom you wanted?

But why was I crying as I stood on the very edge of death?

I closed my eyes and drifted back to the moment they found me.

I was pulled out of that basement for the first time, finally seeing the warm, actual sunlight. For the first time, my mother held me. Her scalding tears fell, tracing paths down my cheek. Her voice shook as she spoke:

“Asher, my darling. Mama’s bringing you home.”

But when we reached the house, the first thing I saw was Brody’s face—the spitting image of the nanny.

That was when I truly shattered.

I scrambled frantically for a pair of scissors. Mom thought I was going to hurt Brody, and she scrambled to shield him. Dad yelled at me, a sound filled with sheer terror. “Are you insane?!”

But I turned the scissors on myself. Once. Twice.

Mom rushed me, holding me again, her body shielding mine this time. Even my father, always so rigid, had bloodshot eyes.

“Your father and I were wrong…” “Please, don’t hurt yourself. We promise he won’t come near you again.”

After that, I genuinely didn’t see Brody at the house. Until the annual family gathering.

I saw him again, surrounded by the extended Whitlock relatives, like a tiny prince holding court. The whispers of the staff drifted to me on the cold air.

“Even if he’s not the heir by blood, they’ve raised him for fifteen years. There’s a bond.” “The real son’s only been back for a few months. How can he compare?”

I stood out in the chilly breeze, my body numb, shaking uncontrollably. Then I watched Brody, his smile twisted with pure malice, walk toward me and shove me into the water.

“Guess what? Who do you think Mom and Dad actually prefer? You, or me?”

He jumped in after me.

My parents must have heard the splash. They came running in a panic. Two figures appeared in the water, but neither was swimming toward me.

My throat was filling, my consciousness blurring away.

It’s okay, Asher. I told myself. You’ve lived through worse. One more time won’t change anything.

The next time I woke up, I was in a hospital bed. Mom was sitting by my side, her face an open map of guilt.

“Asher, I’m so sorry. Brody was screaming for help, and we thought he was the one drowning.” “Next time, you have to tell us exactly what’s happening, sweetie. Only then can we rush in to save you.”

Dad swore to me, “I will make him pay for this.”

The next day, Brody was grounded from his video games for a single afternoon.

And then, later, Brody locked me in the closet.

I wanted to tell them I was hurt.

But they told me to let go of the resentment.

Mom and Dad, I truly couldn’t let go. Because I was already dying.

2

The next time I opened my eyes, I was floating out of the closet.

Was I saved?

Mom had said that the first thing I should do when I woke up was call for them, so they could rush in and take care of me. So I went downstairs, whispering, “Mom? Mom?”

The living room lights were on. My parents had come back. But so had the person I least wanted to see—Brody.

My body instantly froze. Hadn’t they promised I wouldn’t have to see him again?

Mom was sitting on the sofa, letting out a sigh.

“Asher has been through a lot of trauma in the last few years, honey. Sometimes he acts out, and sometimes he’ll even try to make you look bad.” “He even called us just now, saying you locked him up again. Brody, I know you’re a good boy. Don’t hold it against him. Will you and your father and I go apologize to him in a minute?”

I stood still, stunned.

My parents thought I was lying, that I was trying to frame Brody? But… I was saved, wasn’t I?

I slowly turned, floating back toward the closet.

The little boy inside was curled up in a corner, quiet as a doll.

I realized the truth then. I was dead.

I gave a weak, bitter smile.

It’s fine. It doesn’t matter. I didn’t want to trouble Mom. I could let her believe I’d lied.

The conversation downstairs continued. Brody hugged a plush toy and pouted. “But Mom, you always take Asher’s side. Is it because I’m not your real son that you don’t love me anymore?”

Mom laughed, stroking his hair with a deep, doting affection. “How could you think that? You are and always will be my little prince.”

“I even bought T-shirts for both of you—they’re the Starfall Saga Limited Edition ones, the ones you love. They’re in Asher’s closet. Why don’t you go try yours on, and bring the other one out for Asher? Tell him it’s a gift from you.”

Brody’s face lit up, and he skipped toward the closet. But he stopped abruptly at the door. His smile looked strained. “Mom, actually, I suddenly don’t feel like wearing the collaboration T-shirt.”

Mom frowned. “Why the sudden change of heart? I bought them already. Just try it on…”

She stood up, walking slowly toward the closet.

Then the doorbell rang.

3

Mom turned around, relieved by the interruption, and opened the door.

Standing on the threshold was the woman who had abused me—the nanny, Brenda.

My blood ran cold. My entire phantom body trembled uncontrollably.

Brenda’s face was squeezed into a fake, fawning smile. “Mrs. Whitlock, you asked me to come today…?”

Mom gave a simple, cool “Mhm.” “I wanted you to see Brody one last time. Then, you take the money, and you disappear forever.”

I stood paralyzed, my hands and feet freezing.

Shouldn’t this woman be in prison for child abuse and kidnapping? Why was Mom paying her, letting her walk free? Had Mom forgotten that this was the woman who hurt me?

I desperately ran toward Mom, wanting to scream the truth. But no matter how loudly I shouted, she couldn’t hear me.

Brenda quickly looked over Brody, accepted a thick bundle of cash, and signed a document for Mom.

Mom frowned, hurrying her. “Take the money and leave immediately. Don’t let Asher see you.” “And keep your mouth shut once you’re out. I used all my resources to get you bailed out for a reason. I don’t want a stain on Brody’s future.”

At that final sentence, I felt like I’d been drenched in icy water.

She knew. Mom had known all along.

I sniffed, my ethereal nose feeling a sharp, familiar sting. But Mom, what about me? Brody’s future would remain pristine; he was the little prince raised in a garden of love. But my future had already been destroyed, years ago, in that basement.

Mom finally seemed to remember me. “Dad will be home soon. I’m going to call Asher down for dinner.”

“Brody, remember to apologize to Asher later. Your father and I can only bring you back home permanently once he forgives you, understood?”

Brody gave a reluctant, muttering “Mhm.”

Mom searched the house but couldn’t find me. Frowning, she asked Brody if he’d seen me.

Brody stammered, avoiding her eyes. “I… I think he was throwing a tantrum this afternoon and hid in the closet…”

4

Mom sighed and tapped lightly on the closet door. “Asher, come out for dinner, okay?”

No response.

Mom tried again, patiently coaxing. “I brought Brody back to apologize to you today. Acknowledge your mother, won’t you?”

Still, silence.

Mom finally lost her patience. She pounded heavily on the door. “Asher Whitlock! How long are you going to keep this up? If you don’t answer, I’m just going to open the door!”

She angrily gripped the doorknob, ready to open it, but Brody suddenly called out to her.

“Mom, don’t worry about him! Let’s just eat first!”

He blinked nervously. “I’m hungry, Mom.”

“Fine! Then let him starve himself in there! Let’s see how long he can cross me!” Mom turned and walked straight back to the dining table.

I stood beside the table, wringing my hands in a state of confused sadness and a strange relief. At least, Mom wouldn’t see my body and lose her appetite.

After Brenda finished serving the last dish, Dad finally came home. He was carrying a celebratory cake, his whole demeanor cheerful.

Brody ran over and hugged him. “Dad, you’re home! Is that my birthday cake?”

I saw a gentle look on Dad’s face that I’d never seen before. “It is! Made especially for you!”

Mom looked uncertain. “Honey, today… is also Asher’s birthday.”

Dad froze, his face clouded with awkwardness. “Oh, right… Asher hasn’t been with us long, I completely forgot…” He paused. “Should I… should I go buy another cake for Asher?”

An uncomfortable flicker crossed Mom’s face, but the frustration over the closet incident hardened her expression. “Forget it. We forgot. We’ll just celebrate Brody first.”

“He’s being stubborn anyway. He doesn’t mind missing his birthday.”

Brody piped up loudly, “Exactly! Why should you have to buy an extra cake just for him?” “He doesn’t even belong here. Mom said I’m her little prince!”

Yes. I don’t belong here. I’d never had a birthday celebration before.

I stared at them blankly, feeling a stream run down my face, though I quickly blinked it back. It’s okay. I’m dead now. It doesn’t matter if I have a home.

I secretly watched the cake, seeing Mom slice it. Brody’s piece was the biggest, topped with strawberries. He sat between Mom and Dad, truly looking like a prince.

The family was happy and whole, and the cake was quickly disappearing.

Only after they were full and content did Mom remember the original purpose of the evening—Brody was supposed to apologize to me. Since I wouldn’t come out, Brody would have to be sent back to his boarding school.

Brody began to cry and protest, refusing to leave.

“Why? This is my house! Why do I need his permission to live here?” “The dorms at school are awful. I want to come home, I want to be with Mom…” Brody burst into loud, wrenching tears.

Mom’s eyes softened with pain. “Honey, maybe we should let Brody stay tonight. It’s getting late.”

Dad hesitated. “But don’t you remember? When Asher first came home, he almost… he almost killed himself just seeing Brody…”

Before Dad could finish, Mom suddenly broke down. “Asher, Asher! It’s always Asher! Why did he have to come back and ruin our entire family?” “Brody may not be our biological son, but we raised him for fifteen years! Asher’s only been here for a few months, and now Brody has to suffer and live in a boarding school because of him! Brody is my child too, how am I supposed to bear that pain?”

I stood silently to the side, sad and lost. Maybe I shouldn’t have been found. If I had just died in that basement, no one would have known, and I wouldn’t have been a burden to anyone.

Dad sighed, gently patting Mom’s shoulder. “Alright, alright. If you want him to stay, he can stay. Brody is my son too. Of course I care for him.” “Here’s what we’ll do: I’ll go talk to Asher and tell him Brody is staying for one night.”

Mom, her eyes still red, nodded, gesturing toward my direction.

Dad stood up and walked to the closet, tapping patiently on the door.

“Asher, come out, okay? Brody really wants to apologize to you for his mother’s actions.” “I know you have resentment in your heart, but that was all in the past. You’re fine now, aren’t you? You have to look forward, Asher. Be a good boy. Stop fighting with your mother and father, and come out.”

Dead silence filled the living room.

Dad’s face darkened. He was about to speak again when Brody, who had just been crying and begging to stay, spoke up meekly.

“Mom and Dad, maybe… maybe I should just come back in a few days…”

But Mom’s voice was firm. “No. Brody, we are not catering to his temper. Sweetheart, just open the door!”

Dad nodded and turned the handle. But no matter how hard he pulled, the door remained firmly shut, unmoving.

“What the hell? Is it locked?”

Hearing this, Mom looked at Brody, confused. “Brody, you said Asher locked himself in out of a tantrum. How could the door be locked from the outside?”

Brody looked down, trembling, not daring to say a word.

Mom finally felt a cold dread crawl up her spine. “Brody, did you lock Asher inside? Get the key out right now!” “Asher has been in there all day. He must be terrified!”

She wrestled the key out of Brody’s tightly clenched fist. Her voice was frantic as she handed the key to Dad. “Open it quickly! Get Asher out!”

But Dad stood frozen, trembling uncontrollably.

“Honey… A few days ago, we had the exterminators in because of the moths. We… we told them to seal all the gaps around the closet door…”

Mom’s eyes widened.

A terrible realization hit her. She pushed Brody away like a maniac and ran to the closet. Her palm was soaked with sweat, and she kept chanting my name.

The key rattled in the small lock, finally turning the mechanism.

The moment the closet door was pulled open, a wave of stagnant, heavy air rushed out and hit her.

Mom stumbled back, covering her mouth, and tears instantly flooded her eyes.

Dad stood completely still, all color drained from his face, his hand shaking so badly he could barely hold the key.