
In the wake of unimaginable loss, Emilie Kiser is speaking out — not for attention, but for privacy, dignity, and peace.
The TikTok influencer, who has over 4 million followers, is grieving the devastating death of her 3-year-old son, Trigg, who tragically drowned in the family’s backyard pool on May 12, 2025.
Now, in a raw and emotional letter submitted to the Arizona Superior Court, Kiser is asking the world to stop watching, stop speculating, and let her family grieve in private.
It started with a moment of distraction.
Kiser was out with friends. Her husband, Brady, was at home with Trigg and their newborn son, Theodore.
According to police reports, Brady lost sight of Trigg for three to five minutes while tending to the baby. When he looked again, the toddler was floating in the pool.
Emergency responders arrived quickly, performing CPR at the scene before airlifting Trigg to Phoenix Children’s Hospital. Despite their efforts, he passed away six days later, on May 18.
The tragedy was made worse by what came next.
Within two hours of Trigg’s death, news of it spread across social media.
Fox News falsely reported he had died immediately after the incident.
Helicopters circled the family’s home in Chandler, Arizona.
Strangers showed up at their door, asking to “pray over the house.”
Cameras filmed from cars parked outside.
Packages arrived from people they didn’t know.
And then came the public records requests — over 100 — filed with city and county offices, demanding access to everything: surveillance footage, 911 calls, autopsy reports, bodycam videos.
“It has become a media frenzy,” Kiser wrote in her court filing.
“Trigg’s death has turned into content. And we are being stripped of our right to grieve in peace.”
Kiser fought back — legally.
On May 27, she filed a lawsuit asking that certain graphic and intimate details of her son’s final moments be sealed from public view.
She wasn’t trying to hide the truth.
She was trying to protect her son’s memory.
“I was not home when this happened,” she wrote in a heartbreaking personal statement.
“I will forever second-guess that decision — among many others. The tragedy already haunts me.”
She described Trigg as a joyful, bright child — the kind of boy who filled a room with laughter.
Their family, she said, had always shared their love for their children online — not for fame, but because they believed in celebrating the beauty of parenthood.
“That is how it should stay,” she pleaded.
“Not defined by how he died — but by how he lived.”
On August 8, 2025, a judge ruled in her favor.
Arizona Superior Court Judge Christopher Whitten granted Kiser the right to redact two pages from the Chandler Police Department report — pages that contained graphic details of Trigg’s final moments.
“The disclosure would serve no purpose other than satisfying morbid curiosity,” the judge wrote.
Her attorney, Shannon Clark, called the decision a victory for dignity.
“These redactions do not change any facts,” she said.
“But they protect the memory of a little boy who should be remembered for his light — not the darkness of his death.”
Meanwhile, authorities completed their investigation.
Initially, Chandler Police recommended child abuse charges against Brady Kiser, citing that Trigg was left unsupervised for over nine minutes, with seven of those spent in the water.
But on July 25, the Maricopa County Attorney’s Office announced no charges would be filed.
After reviewing surveillance footage and all evidence, they concluded there was “no reasonable likelihood of conviction.”
“The state must prove a gross deviation from reasonable care,” the office stated.
“In this case, that standard was not met.”
Kiser’s legal team welcomed the decision.
“This was a tragic accident,” said attorney Flynn Carey.
“Brady is grieving. The family is healing. And they ask only for space to do so.”
Today, Emilie Kiser is not asking for sympathy.
She’s asking for something far more basic:
The right to mourn without an audience.
The right to remember her son as the joyful child he was — not as a headline.
The right to hold her surviving son close, without fear of being watched.
Because grief isn’t content.
It’s sacred.
And for families like hers, the most powerful act of love is sometimes just… being left alone.
If you or someone you know is grieving, you’re not alone.
Contact The Compassionate Friends at (877) 969-0010 for support in confidence.