Mom Finds Her Daughter’s Dismembered Body on Facebook (ACTION NEEDED)
Mom Finds Her Daughter’s Dismembered Body on Facebook (ACTION NEEDED)
It is no secret that missing and murdered Indigenous people receive very little resources and their cases are often mishandled. This is no different with today’s video. A Native girl was labeled a runaway, her case was not taken seriously at first, and then she was found brutally dismembered. Her killer has not been found, and whoever did this to her needs to be brought to justice.
Unfortunately, there has been very poor communication between agencies to the point where the girl’s family had to find out about her death by seeing garbage bags containing her body on social media. There was no call from law enforcement; police didn’t show up at their door to tell them first. It was just a picture on social media.
This is why this case needs national attention. I thank each and every one of you who sent this to us so we can signal boost it. We have a responsibility to raise awareness in hopes of bringing this person to justice. I encourage you to take note of the contact information down below if you or anyone else knows anything, and share it around so others can learn about this case.
And with that out of the way, please stay with us while we tell you about Emily Pike’s story and who she was as a person. Emily Pike was a bright young girl born on May 16th, 2010. She had three siblings, many cousins whom she loved dearly, and a pet cat named Millie. Emily’s favorite pastime was art. At 14 years old, she knew she wanted to go to art school for college.
Her loved ones said that she had a contagious smile and a love for music. Emily liked Hello Kitty, and her favorite color was pink. She was interested in learning how to play guitar and was curious about makeup. Emily lived with her mother, Steph Dosella, her brother, and her extended family on the San Carlos Apache Reservation, located in the southeastern part of Arizona.
Their home was in the unincorporated community of Peridot, named for the abundance of the gemstone. Emily had other family in Utah and Colorado, and she visited often. Her relatives characterized the family home as cramped and in a state of disrepair. The surrounding area was a mess of garbage, broken glass, and thorny vegetation. It wasn’t ideal, but Emily always had a smile on her face and was ready to brighten her relatives’ day.
Emily’s father, Jensen Pike, was not an active member of her life as he had been in prison multiple times. In 2024, he was serving a prison sentence for arson and criminal damage charges. Steph loved Emily, but was battling addiction and constant poverty. Despite her sweet nature, Emily’s life was more difficult than most. She had many terrible things happen to her in rapid succession.
When she was just 12 or 13 years old, Emily was sexually assaulted by a family member. To this day, it is unknown who this person was. They were described in some reports as a visitor, so they may not have lived with Emily at the time. Emily was found near a hill behind her home, missing her shirt, in a state of emotional distress. Her grandmother believed Emily placed the 911 call herself.
The person responsible was arrested, but the charges against them were dropped due to a lack of evidence. Instead, Emily was taken from her mother’s care and put into a group home. Steph reluctantly agreed to let her go, believing her daughter would be in good hands. Many of her family members were unaware of this incident, including her grandmother. To them, social services took Emily because her mother was an addict and her father was in prison. They wouldn’t learn the truth until much, much later, when it was far too late.
Her uncle, Alred Pike Jr., later told Arizona legislators, “My niece was a victim, but yet she was punished and removed from her home. That’s how justice failed her. The person that she accused of hurting her got to go home. How is that justice? It’s just backwards.”
The circumstances surrounding the law enforcement response were in themselves odd. There were only 22 police officers employed on the San Carlos Apache Police Force at any point, covering over 2,500 square miles. According to the police chief, none of those officers were available to respond to the 911 call. Instead, it was someone from the Fish and Game Department. Supposedly, the Fish and Game Department knew how to find people in the reservation’s more rural spaces, but these rangers were not trained in handling sexual assault cases.
When Emily spoke with officers again, she didn’t answer their questions. As reported by the Arizona Republic newspaper, Ranger Jose Verdugo wrote in his report, “Emily was unable to provide specific dates and times of when such offenses actually occurred. The case lacked physical evidence and/or corroborating information.” Ranger Verdugo shared his findings with the U.S. Attorney’s Office, and according to him, it was decided they could not go through with prosecution.
However, in 2025, prosecutors with the Arizona U.S. Attorney’s Office said they never had any communication with tribal or federal agencies regarding this case. According to spokesperson Esther Winnie, they do not have a record of these events. At this time, it is unclear if the discrepancy is due to negligence or miscommunication.
Emily was brought to a group home for girls in Mesa. It was under the operation of Sacred Journeys, Inc. and was more than 100 miles away from her home in Peridot. It has been reported that there were only 10 beds on the property for the children. The group home was licensed by Arizona’s Department of Child Safety (DCS), but Emily was not in DCS custody. She was in the custody of her tribe, which reached out to group homes when needed.
An anonymous individual known under the pseudonym Chelsea was Emily’s roommate in the group home. Chelsea left before the events of our story, but she and Emily were close and spoke often. Chelsea said Emily’s mental health deteriorated rapidly. She said that her shy and sweet personality was replaced with great emotional turmoil, even when prescribed medication for her mental health. The rapid changes around Emily put more stress on her. She missed her mother, her cats, and her family’s cooking. She wasn’t used to living in a more densely populated city.
Her caregivers were primed on Emily’s background, but their efforts did little to help her feel safe and understood. Worse still, they barred Emily from speaking with her family. When she arrived at the group home, Emily ran away multiple times between September and November of 2023. Emily returned on her own accord once, and three other times Mesa police officers had to bring her back.
The first time in September, Emily and another girl snuck out after being given their respective medications, and officers found them at a public playground. They didn’t want to go back due to the grueling chores they were forced to do, which included scrubbing between floor tiles. One of the two girls—it’s unclear who—said she would rather go to jail than return to that group home.
Nine days later, Emily was reported missing once again. By the time police went out looking for her, she was spotted walking back to the group home. She spoke to officers and said she felt uncomfortable when she witnessed fights between the adult staff and the other girls. She was evaluated at a mental health clinic before being sent back.
Emily went missing again in October, but returned later in the evening. Staff and other girls heard Emily imply that she had taken some kind of substance. Emily specifically described it as laced. Despite these clearly alarming statements, she was not taken to be evaluated in an emergency room or anything of the sort.
Early in her stay there, Emily tried to remove herself from the earth. Her attempt left her injured, and she was hospitalized because of it. Emily’s paternal relatives in Colorado learned of her current situation. While they knew she had been removed from her mother’s house and of her attempts, they still didn’t know about the sexual assault. Steph had kept them in the dark about it.
Shortly after being discharged from the hospital, Emily visited her family in Colorado. Family members, along with the group home and social services, thought some time away from Arizona would be helpful to her. There, they could speak with Emily about adopting her and having her live with them. All seemed well at first. Emily was happy at the thought of living with family again. Her family may have thought she would get better once she was surrounded by people who loved her, but unfortunately, this was a short-lived happiness.
Emily enjoyed family outings and spending time with her younger cousin, but she didn’t respond well to being told what she could and couldn’t do. She would shut down emotionally or cry uncontrollably. It culminated on November 29th, 2023. Emily and her relatives were going to see the Taylor Swift Era tour movie and were spending the day at the shopping mall. Her aunt Carolyn said Emily wanted to buy some makeup, and Carolyn told her to wait. Without warning, Emily ran off through the mall doors.
Carolyn, along with her sister and mother, searched for Emily for two hours. They called the police after the search turned up empty. A police officer found Emily in a trampoline arena. She didn’t want to leave, no matter what the officer said to her. Carolyn pulled Emily from her seat. The officer took Emily by the arm, and they all left the arena.
Outside, Emily expressed how she wanted to go back to her family’s house or the group home in Mesa. Carolyn recounted, and I quote, “We tried talking to her and reminding her, ‘You know, Emily, we’re here for you. We want to do what’s best for you.’ The cop was holding her by the arm, just trying to escort her out. And then she turns around and reaches for his gun.” In her soft, sweet voice, Emily said, “I’m going to go to hell, and you guys are all going to be there.”
An ambulance was called, and a handcuffed Emily was escorted to a hospital in Aurora. Carolyn couldn’t reach Tribal Social Services, so she spoke with Sacred Journeys CEO Liz Morales. Liz flew to Colorado, spoke with the family, and bought plane tickets for herself and for Emily. After she left, Emily’s family would never see her again.
She was taken to a mental and behavioral health facility where she stayed for a year. Liz says she noted a change in Emily’s demeanor when she returned to the group home: she smiled more often and was thinking about art in college, but Emily expressed worry for her mother and she wanted to go home so she could take care of her.
On January 27th, 2025, dressed in a pink and gray shirt, Emily left the group home on foot in the night for what would be the final time. According to Chelsea, Emily was attending guitar lessons, and she met a boy. She shared her plan to meet him alone while everyone else was occupied. Liz Morales thought differently. Emily was worried about her mother; Liz thought that she was running home to Peridot.
She snuck out her window during a visit from a local church when the attention was not on her. They realized Emily was gone. The group home called the police and made a missing person report. They probably expected to see Emily safe and sound the following day at the latest, but then hours went by with no sign of her.
The family learned she was missing from child service officials an entire week after she disappeared. This occurred despite Arizona House Bill 2479, which was signed into law in April of 2024, dictating, among other things, that when a child in foster care goes missing, their biological family must be notified as soon as possible. But it seems this requirement was neglected simply because Emily wasn’t in the state’s foster care system.
The San Carlos Apache Reservation is a sovereign nation and Emily was in their custody, not the state’s. Because of this, the group home didn’t technically need to follow the guidelines for reporting missing children; they may not have had the ability to. DCS has agreements with some of Arizona’s tribes, but not with the San Carlos Apache Tribe. Therefore, it takes longer for communication to occur between them.
Furthermore, since Emily had disappeared and reappeared in the past, the group home may have thought they didn’t need to say a word to the family. She had run away so many times and come back—why would this time be any different? It is not reported if Steph was told about Emily’s previous disappearances. Given the barriers to doing so, it’s very possible that she wasn’t.
San Carlos Apache Social Services were alerted to Emily’s disappearance, but her caseworker decided it wasn’t an emergency only because Emily had run away and returned on her own in the past. Her family, including her mother, was kept in the dark for a whole week. Law enforcement released public notices for a missing runaway juvenile accompanied by a poster, but public awareness about Emily’s disappearance stopped there. All her family could do was hold their breath and hope that their little girl would come home.
On Valentine’s Day of 2025, hikers were walking a trail in the Tonto National Forest. They found two garbage bags off US Highway 60 near the San Carlos Apache Reservation, 100 miles from the Mesa group home. They looked closer and suspected they had stumbled upon a body. They called 911. Investigators were led to the scene. The responding police officers opened the garbage bags and revealed a girl’s dismembered remains missing her arms and hands. It is said that even the older officers, who had seen many terrible things, were shaken by the discovery.
Arizona held its breath while it waited for the victim’s identity to be revealed. On February 27th, about two weeks later, the Gila County Sheriff’s Office confirmed the remains belonged to Emily Pike. Despite performing an autopsy, officials could not determine Emily’s cause of death. Investigators currently believe that Emily did not die in the location where she was found.
Before they made the announcement, someone had leaked details, including the more grim ones, on Facebook. It was spread online and found its way to Emily’s family’s social media feeds. Steph saw photos of the garbage bags and called the police department. That’s when she learned that her daughter was gone.
The Gila County Sheriff’s Office publicly apologized for the leak in a press release, but the damage was clearly done. The February 26th press release read: “Due to the circumstances, it was decided that further information needed to be investigated before any public notification. There’s no indication that there was an active threat to the community. Unfortunately, the information on Facebook was intended for law enforcement agencies and was leaked. GCSO detectives are currently working long hours to make a positive identification and find any information and evidence.”
They announced the remains belonged to Emily the following day. And I quote: “On February 14th, 2025, the remains of an unidentified female were found. On February 27th, 2025, the unidentified female has been identified as a juvenile from the San Carlos Apache tribe who reported as a missing/runaway juvenile out of the Mesa Police Department. Sheriff J. Adam Shepherd would like to send our condolences from the Sheriff’s Office to the family and friends of the young female.”
Terry Rambler, chairperson for the San Carlos Apache Tribe, said in a statement: “Our tribe is mourning the tragic death of one of our young members. This is a terrible loss for the teenager’s family and our tribe.”
One of Emily’s aunts, Sonia Palmer, organized a GoFundMe to help finance Emily’s funeral. They raised over $27,000 in donations. The community created a memorial for Emily within the area she was last seen. Solo cups in the holes of a fence spelled out “Justice for Emily.” Gradually, more people made additions to the site, including balloons, stuffed animals, candles, banners, stones, and flowers. Soon, the barren fence became a wash of color in the spirit of Emily’s love for art.
A vigil was held at the fence on March 4th with hundreds of attendees. Some people had red handprints on their faces, symbolizing awareness and solidarity with missing and murdered Native American women. It represents silence: silence for the voices taken too soon, and silence from the media and law enforcement who don’t take these cases seriously.
Her aunt April Victor said at the vigil, “Emily was a spark, and she definitely sparked the entire world, and now the world is on fire because of Emily. This is part of healing. And to see all of the support… I’m shaky. I can’t believe this. So many signs, so many people coming together. We feel the sadness, but the comfort of this is our neighboring community. This is Emily’s village. You can’t just roam around free.”
On March 6th, the Arizona Missing Child Task Force hosted a second vigil at the Encounter Church. They made the initial announcement on their Facebook page. When they realized just how many people would attend, they sectioned off the church’s sanctuary for Emily’s family, friends, and teachers. The other hundreds of attendees stood outside the church.
The Gila County Sheriff’s Office, the San Carlos Apache Tribal Police, and the Bureau of Indian Affairs are working together in their investigation to find out what happened to Emily and place the person responsible behind bars. In early March, the FBI also provided their assistance.
Police Lieutenant Jim Lah told the press that investigators have been looking into many potential leads. He said what happened to Emily was a “special kind of evil.” He also confirmed that the person who assaulted Emily in 2023 was being looked into and that they were not yet ruled out as a suspect.
Officials asked for home surveillance footage that could have caught Emily the day she went missing. Some people living on Mesa Drive and McKellips Road turned in their footage in hopes of helping law enforcement. Investigators had hoped to get something from the area Emily was found, but the chances were very slim since it’s not very populated. Despite the brutality of the horrific crime, law enforcement did not believe that there was a greater threat to the community.
Community members reached out to Emily’s family to offer support and to help get them justice. They held a two-day memorial service and burial at the end of March. The attendees wore pink roses pinned to their clothes. Her uncle, Alred Pike Jr., called her “the definition of love.”
A mural was painted in honor of Emily Pike just about a mile from where her service was held at San Carlos High School. People from all over came together to fill the gym. Family members told me Saturday was about sharing Emily’s story.
“[Music] We are here to celebrate the life of Emily Carla Pike. Over the last two days, people from Arizona and beyond have shown up for Emily Pike. Today, we let the world know who she was. The 14-year-old making her journey back home, surrounded by her San Carlos Apache family. Emily spoke so loudly, she caught the whole world’s attention.
Emily was living in a Mesa group home when she was reported missing in January. Weeks later, she was found killed off the US 60, about 20 minutes northeast of Globe. Say her name. What was done to her wasn’t right. Saturday, after an overnight wake, hundreds gathered as families shared memories and pictures of the teen.
Emily overall was smart, sweet, soft-spoken, quiet, funny, and kind-hearted. She was beautiful inside and out. Emily loved Hello Kitty and the color pink; she loved anything and everything that was girly.
Through grief and pain, the community coming together surrounding both sides of Emily’s family. Knowing that the persons responsible for her death have not been found—that adds to the hurt and the pain and the closure while demanding change and justice in Emily’s case. ‘Let us pray for our law enforcement agencies so that they can work together and find whoever did this horrible act.’
Just up the road, loved ones and visitors placing red handprints at the bottom of that mural in honor of the teen. A symbol to represent the crisis of missing and murdered Indigenous women and girls all over the country. ‘It just really reflects the ongoing challenges that we have that unfortunately tie us all together in Indian Country.’
Some were even there as Emily’s final procession drove by. ‘We are going to continue to write her story through her. Laws are going to be changed through her. Lives are going to be changed.’ Ashley Holden, ABC15 Arizona.”
The Redrum Motorcycle Club followed the procession and some members volunteered to help her family carry her casket. It was printed with pink and purple flowers and a picture of Hello Kitty with angel wings. Emily Pike was buried at the Lower Peridot Cemetery, two miles from the home she grew up in.
Her family are not the only ones in mourning. The people of Arizona and those in Indigenous communities nationwide were hoping for Emily’s health and well-being. There was near-universal sadness for the loss of this bright, creative, and sweet girl. A school in Phoenix hosted a community-wide Native American fashion show and paid their respects for Emily. They displayed a red dress in Emily’s memory. Red dresses are used as symbols for Indigenous women and girls who have died or gone missing.
The leaders of the San Carlos Apache tribe have turned down press interviews and requests for comments about Emily. They have yet to speak about her assault, much less why the investigation into it was handled so poorly. The caseworkers who removed Emily from her home told journalists to turn their questions to their lawyers. Similarly, the reservation’s police department said to ask the Game and Fish Department for inquiries about the 2023 investigation. It took two months after she was found for the San Carlos Tribal Council to make a statement about this past failure, and it read as follows:
“The tribe is now addressing serious concerns about the handling of sexual assault charges Emily Pike made in 2023. Questions have arisen regarding why the alleged assailant was not prosecuted and why the tribe’s police and specialized law enforcement officers were excluded from the investigation, which was managed by game rangers lacking expertise in sensitive child sexual offense cases.
These concerns have prompted the tribe to launch an independent investigation in which it will retain expert law enforcement assistance to review the processes, policies, and procedures used in response to Emily’s 2023 allegations. In addition, all contacts and interviews with Emily by law enforcement, behavioral health, and group homes, and any others will be part of the review.
The tribe is conducting this internal investigation to bring clarity to Emily’s case and to ensure stronger protections for vulnerable individuals in the future. At the same time, the investigation into Emily’s murder continues.”
Tribal chairman Terry Rambler emphasized the importance of ensuring justice for Emily, stating, “This crime cannot remain unresolved, and we will continue to do everything in our power to support the Gila County Sheriff’s Office in their investigation.”
In the beginning of this case’s media coverage, Steph stayed away from the cameras, though she was vocal in written statements and phone interviews about getting Emily’s name out there. Early on, snippets of a phone interview with the news outlet Arizona’s Family were one of the few places you could hear her talk about Emily in her own voice:
“I thought she was a very happy and kind person. She likes to paint… she loves painting. She loves art. She loves to draw… Your case manager, your friend came a week later to tell me that she was missing. Why go that far? It is a… she was a baby. Pain that I would hope no other mother goes through.”
To this day, Steph believes things would be different if she was told about her daughter’s disappearance much earlier. Emily is unfortunately one of many missing and murdered Indigenous women. Kim Titla, the United National Indian Tribal Youth’s Executive Director, says statistically most Indigenous women and girls who go missing are found murdered. Others in the advocacy sphere have said cases like Emily’s don’t receive widespread media attention until after the victims have died.
It’s true that few outlets reported on Emily’s initial disappearance until after she was confirmed to have passed, even though police released a public notice. The Bureau of Indian Affairs backs up these statements. At the same time, these statistics are ambiguous for a multitude of reasons, ranging from those living in reservation communities to cities.
Violence against Indigenous women is widely underreported. Those that are reported have a multitude of factors working against them. In 2016, there were over 5,000 Indigenous women and girls reported missing to police. Only 116 of these 5,000 reported were added to the National Missing and Unidentified Persons System (NamUs).
According to their website, the Bureau of Indian Affairs estimates there are over 4,200 missing persons and murder cases that are unsolved. While many are left off the federal missing persons list altogether, sometimes missing Indigenous women are described as belonging to a different ethnic or racial group. It adds more distortion to an already distorted set of data.
Until recently, missing children from reservations were widely excluded from Amber Alerts due to technicalities in legislation and barriers between jurisdictions. But children like Emily are still vulnerable. And this is where Emily’s Law comes in. A bill in Emily’s memory circulated in the Arizona government was named Emily’s Law or the Turquoise Alert Bill.
After a unanimous vote in the state House and Senate, it was officially signed by Governor Katie Hobbs on May 13th, 2025. The bill was sponsored by Representative Teresa Martinez, whose niece is part of the Gila River Indian Community. Going forward in Arizona, when an Indigenous person is reported missing, a statewide Turquoise Alert will be issued if the missing person does not meet the requirements for an Amber Alert, but is considered at risk or vulnerable.
Arizona is the most recent U.S. state to institute a system like this one. Emily’s family, including Steph, were present at this signing. Three Arizona-based artists painted a mural of Emily on a water tank in Peridot. It took them over 16 hours to see its completion. When the paint dried, other members of the community contributed with red handprints to the canvas.
Emily’s father, Jensen Pike, wanted to sue Liz Morales’s group home. He made these statements in April, but there have been no updates since then. While Steph questions them, and still does now, as to why Emily was alone and unsupervised the night she went missing, she does not want to be involved in the lawsuit. Instead, she has dedicated her time to keeping up with her sobriety, sharing memories of her daughter, and spreading awareness of other missing person cases in Arizona and beyond.
One of Emily’s cats had a litter of kittens; Steph referred to them as Emily’s grandkids. While Liz Morales spoke often with the press, the workers at this particular group home in Mesa are still anonymous. There are still children living there, so news outlets can’t publish the group home’s name or address.
It’s been reported that 30 runaway or missing reports of juveniles were made from this particular group home within the last 3 years. However, according to an interview with Arizona’s Family reporter Briana Whitney, that number isn’t reliable. The anonymous manager of the Mesa home said, “No, there are not 30 missing children from our home. All of our children who have been reported missing have been accounted for. Those children who did not return to the home were placed in other facilities for many different reasons, including a higher level of care for their safety. Safety always comes first.”
They also discussed how heavily Emily’s case weighs on the children and staff in the group home. On top of losing one of their own, they have allegedly received doxxing threats from users online, though their community has also rallied behind them, offering donations and resources to the girls living there.
A post on Facebook spread to those watching the case unfold, sharing false information that the group home was closed and a staff member was arrested. DCS denied this rumor. Their last call with the group home was on March 4th, and they said, “Social media is not accurate. Our investigation is ongoing, and we have not taken any action.” Arizona DCS launched a licensing inquiry into Sacred Journeys, Inc., but the San Carlos Apache tribe wants in-depth investigations into all the group homes licensed by the state.
As of the date of this recording in June of 2025, Emily’s arms and hands are still missing. On April 1st, volunteers searched the area Emily was found and the spaces surrounding it. Even Twila Cassadore, a prominent figure in the San Carlos Apache tribe, offered her foraging expertise to the search efforts.
Twila explained why it’s so important to find Emily’s arms and hands, and I quote: “In our Apache culture, you have to be whole when you go into the next life. We have to find her just to help her travel into her journey. As a Native person, it completes you.” The volunteers only found animal bones. Further searches with a cadaver dog yielded no results.
Steph had the chance to speak to Arizona lawmakers on May 14th in a hearing by the Joint Legislative Oversight Committee. It acted as a space for anyone involved in Emily’s case—from law enforcement to Apache officials to family members—to air grievances about the system’s failures. Steph’s statement came in written form and was read aloud to the legislators.
She wrote, “A mother should not find out on social media about her daughter’s dismembered body.” Steph asked first that the Sheriff’s Office examine how sensitive case information is shared, leaked, and spread on social media. She also asked that a larger group home be opened on the reservation, complete with proper services to treat children and teens struggling with mental health issues. This way, kids like Emily could be closer to home and things familiar to them.
San Carlos Apache Chief of Police Elliott Sneezy added, “It’s important for the group homes to be educated on Indigenous cultures as many children and teens who come to these group homes originate from Indigenous households.” Steph said that the culture shock Emily experienced only heightened her stress, and she was not met with understanding from her caregivers.
It called for many changes to the system. One was to label children who escape group homes to be called “missing” rather than “runaways” to help reinforce the urgency in these cases. But ultimately, the biggest problem was a lack of communication, which feels like a common element in many of our cases involving child services.
The committee planned to host meetings with their stakeholders where they will work out permanent fixes for the failures of the systems. They hope to see these changes implemented by May of 2026. A spokesperson for the Bureau of Indian Affairs said that the 2023 assault case could be reopened. If a new investigation gathers enough evidence, they could rearrest and properly prosecute Emily’s attacker.
At this time, they are still looking into why this case was initially closed. Again, both the San Carlos Apache law enforcement and the Arizona U.S. Attorney’s Office deny mishandling on their parts.
The San Carlos Apache Tribe and the FBI each posted a reward of up to $75,000 in return for any information that leads to those responsible for Emily’s death. The state of Arizona added another $25,000 to the reward when Emily’s Law was signed.
If anyone has any information about Emily Pike’s case, please contact the Hila County Sheriff’s Office detectives at 9282002352, the Bureau of Indian Affairs Special Agents at 505-9177830 or San Carlos Apache Tribal Police Detectives at 928-4751755.
By the time you see this story, Emily’s 15th birthday would have already passed. Investigators are following leads, but there are yet to be any suspects. The person or persons responsible for her death have yet to be found. There are many questions we still don’t have the answers to, but we can only hope that they will be answered in time.
Her story has reached so many nations, the continents, and I wanted to come up here and share all of the places that has her name has reached her story. Switzerland, Argentina, Germany, Australia, France, Ireland, Denmark, Canada, Spain, Greece, Scotland, Italy, and so much more. So, don’t stop saying her name.
Don’t stop fighting for the ones that you love. Right here, I have a poster with names of people who were murdered, of people who are missing, people who are still needing justice. And Emily’s name is on here. So don’t don’t be afraid to speak her name. Let everyone know her story. She’s making history for us Apache people. She’s making history for all of the Native Americans that are missing out there that are getting murdered and nothing gets done about.
So many people say, “Oh, I never knew that Native Americans that this many Native Americans were missing. I never knew that this was happening. This is their land. They should be getting the justice that needs to be served.