A four-year-old girl in Ohio stood before two framed photographs and quietly said goodbye to both of her parents, Spencer and Monique Tepe, who were tragically killed in their Columbus home on December 30, 2025. The little girl—whose name the family has chosen to shield from further public exposure—placed a single white rose between the pictures of her smiling mother and father, then whispered the words that have since echoed across social media and news feeds around the world: “I love you forever. See you in my dreams.”
The moment was captured briefly by family members attending the private memorial service and later shared—with the family’s permission—in a carefully worded post meant to honor Spencer and Monique’s memory while protecting the children’s privacy. What followed that whisper has become the emotional core of a story that has moved strangers to tears: the unbreakable thread of love that continues to shine through their daughter.
A close relative, speaking on behalf of the extended family, offered a simple but profoundly moving truth after the service: “Their love and spirit shine through her.” In the days since the murders, the four-year-old has begun repeating her mother’s gentle phrases—“be kind, be brave”—and humming the same little tunes Spencer used to sing while brushing her teeth. She insists on wearing one of Monique’s soft cardigans when she feels scared, wraps her arms around her one-year-old brother the same way her father did, and still sets an extra place at the table “for Mommy and Daddy when they come home from work.” These small, instinctive rituals are how a child keeps her parents close when the rest of the world tells her they’re gone.
Spencer Tepe, 37, was a respected dentist in the Columbus area, known among patients for his calm demeanor, gentle explanations, and genuine interest in their lives beyond the chair. Monique Tepe was the heart of their home—a stay-at-home mother who filled every day with crafts, music, laughter, and endless affection. Friends remember her as the person who turned ordinary moments into magic: surprise picnics in the backyard, themed bedtime stories, handwritten notes tucked into lunchboxes. Together they created a family environment where love was loud, consistent, and unconditional.
The violent loss of both parents in a single night has left the two children—four-year-old daughter and one-year-old son—orphaned. Michael David McKee, Monique’s ex-husband from a marriage that ended years earlier, has been charged with aggravated murder in their deaths. Investigators believe the attack was targeted and rooted in long-held resentment. While the legal process continues, the focus for the family and the wider community has remained squarely on the children and how to help them carry forward the light their parents left behind.
Support has poured in from every direction. A GoFundMe organized by close friends has surpassed $900,000, earmarked for therapy, future education, a trust fund, and immediate living expenses. Neighbors have set up rotating meal deliveries, childcare help, and quiet companionship so the grandmother and aunt stepping in as primary caregivers are never overwhelmed. Teachers at the preschool have created a “memory corner” filled with drawings, photos, and tiny mementos so the little girl can touch her parents whenever she needs them. Even strangers have sent letters, cards, and stuffed animals addressed simply to “the Tepe children,” many sharing their own stories of childhood loss and healing.
Grief counselors working with the family say the four-year-old’s behavior is textbook for her age: children this young often process death through repetition, ritual, and magical thinking. They believe Mommy and Daddy are “on a trip” or “watching from the stars.” They draw pictures of family hugs that now include angel wings. They ask when their parents will come back. Each question is met with gentle honesty softened by hope: “They’re not coming back to our house, sweetheart, but they’re always with you in your heart.”
The family has leaned heavily into those beliefs. Every evening they light a candle and share one happy memory. They play Spencer’s favorite songs softly in the background. They read the same bedtime stories Monique used to read, using her voice in their minds. They let the little girl keep her father’s toothbrush timer on her shelf and her mother’s favorite scarf in her bed. These are not attempts to deny reality; they are ways to keep love alive in tangible form.
The community response has been overwhelming in the best way. Local businesses have offered free counseling, schools have created peer support groups for grieving children, churches and organizations have held vigils where hundreds lit candles and shared stories. One letter from a six-year-old girl in a neighboring school read: “I lost my grandpa. It still hurts but it gets softer. Your mommy and daddy are your special angels now. They’re the best kind. I’m sending you a hug.”
In the midst of unimaginable pain, the Tepe family has found small glimmers of light in the daughter they left behind. Her laughter still sounds the same. Her questions still come with the same curious tilt of her head. Her love for her baby brother is as fierce and protective as her parents’ love for her. Every time she smiles, helps her little brother stand, or sings one of her mother’s lullabies, those who loved Spencer and Monique see them reflected back—alive in the only place that truly matters.
Grief does not have a timeline, and healing will take years. But love, it seems, has already decided to stay. It lives in the way a four-year-old girl still sets an extra place at the table. It lives in the rose she placed between two photographs. It lives in the whisper: “See you in my dreams.”
Spencer and Monique Tepe are gone from sight, but their love is not gone from her. And because it shines so brightly through her, it continues to touch everyone who hears her story. In the darkest moment of loss, a child has become the brightest proof that some things—even death—cannot destroy what was built with real love.
