The Frisco community, still reeling from a rare winter storm that blanketed North Texas in snow, gathered in hushed vigils and overflowing gymnasiums to remember two inseparable 16-year-old best friends whose laughter once filled the hallways of Frisco Wakeland High School. Elizabeth “Lizzie” Angle and Grace “Gracie” Brito—sophomores, athletes, and embodiments of kindness—died following a heartbreaking sledding accident on January 25, 2026. As mourners lit candles and shared stories of the girls’ unbreakable bond, Gracie’s family revealed a profoundly selfless detail that has transformed raw grief into a beacon of hope: even in her final moments, Gracie is giving the gift of life through organ donation, fulfilling a wish she made with excitement just months earlier.
The tragedy unfolded on a Sunday afternoon in the peaceful Majestic Gardens neighborhood near Majestic Gardens Drive and Killian Court. A rare winter storm had dumped several inches of snow across the Dallas-Fort Worth area—an unusual event in a region more accustomed to scorching summers than wintry play. Teens seized the novelty, turning streets into impromptu sledding runs. Gracie and Lizzie, best friends since elementary school, hopped onto a simple sled tethered to the back of a Jeep Wrangler driven by another 16-year-old boy from their circle. What started as exhilarating fun quickly spiraled into catastrophe. Witnesses described the Jeep accelerating down the snowy road, the sled whipping behind at high speed. During a sharp turn, the sled lost control, slammed violently into a curb, and then propelled the girls forward into the trunk of a large tree.
First responders from Frisco Police and Fire Departments arrived within minutes of the 2:26 p.m. call. Both girls suffered life-threatening injuries. Lizzie was pronounced dead shortly after reaching the hospital, her body unable to withstand the massive trauma. Gracie, critically injured, was placed on life support at a local trauma center. For three agonizing days, her family—mother Tracy Brito, father, and siblings—kept vigil, praying for miracles while doctors monitored every fragile sign. On January 28, 2026, with heavy hearts, they honored Gracie’s final wish and removed life support. She passed peacefully, surrounded by love.
In statements to local media like FOX 4 Dallas-Fort Worth and CBS Texas, Tracy Brito shared the heartbreaking yet inspiring truth: Gracie had registered as an organ donor right after receiving her driver’s license just two months prior. “She was thrilled,” Tracy recalled. “She wanted to help anyone in need. That was Grace.” Even as the family navigated unimaginable sorrow at the hospital, they proceeded with the organ donation process. Gracie’s organs—heart, lungs, liver, kidneys, and more—are now being prepared to save multiple lives. In a region where organ waiting lists stretch long, her selflessness offers renewed hope to strangers who may never know her name but will carry her gift forward.

Gracie Brito was the girl who “always wanted to make others smile.” A cheerleader at Wakeland High, she brought infectious energy to every pep rally, sideline routine, and team huddle. Friends described her as warm, generous, and selfless beyond her years—a teenager who checked in on classmates during tough days, volunteered without hesitation, and lit up any room she entered. “She was a kind and generous soul, full of warmth, love, and compassion,” her family said in a statement. Gracie’s compassion extended far beyond her immediate circle; becoming an organ donor was a natural extension of who she was. At just 16, she understood the power of giving, even if it meant thinking about mortality most teens push aside.
Lizzie Angle, her inseparable counterpart, was a rising star on the Wakeland soccer team. Known for her determination on the field and gentle spirit off it, she embodied kindness and teamwork. The two girls were rarely apart—sharing classes, sleepovers, inside jokes, and dreams of college, careers, and adventures ahead. Megan Angle, Lizzie’s mother, captured the depth of their bond in a poignant tribute: “They were holding on to each other” during those final terrifying seconds. “Together forever.” That image—of two best friends clinging tightly as the sled hurtled toward disaster—has become etched in the community’s collective memory, a symbol of loyalty that transcends death.
The Frisco community response has been overwhelming. Vigils at local parks drew hundreds, with candles flickering against the winter chill. At Wakeland High, a basketball game became an impromptu memorial: players wore ribbons in school colors, a moment of silence hushed the crowd, and fans held signs reading #ForeverGracieAndLizzie. GoFundMe pages for both families quickly surpassed goals, helping cover funeral costs, travel, and support for grieving siblings. Elizabeth’s family announced plans for the Elizabeth Angle Foundation, dedicated to youth sports, kindness initiatives, and safety education—turning personal loss into lasting impact.

The accident has sparked urgent conversations about safety in rare weather events. North Texas hospitals reported dozens of sledding-related injuries during the storm, many involving vehicles. Experts warn that towing sleds or tubes behind cars—common in snowy regions—carries extreme risks: loss of control, high speeds on untreated roads, and lack of protection. In Texas, where drivers rarely encounter ice, the combination proved deadly. Frisco Police continue their investigation with the Denton County District Attorney’s Office, examining factors like speed, road conditions, and the driver’s actions. No charges have been announced, but the case underscores the fine line between youthful exuberance and tragedy.
For the 16-year-old driver, the aftermath is its own nightmare. A peer who likely viewed the outing as harmless fun now faces profound guilt, potential legal scrutiny, and lifelong “what ifs.” Community leaders have called for compassion toward him as well, recognizing that three young lives were altered forever that afternoon.
Amid the sorrow, Gracie’s organ donation stands as a powerful counterpoint to despair. One act of foresight—checking the donor box on a driver’s license application—now multiplies into miracles. Recipients may include children awaiting hearts, adults facing kidney failure, or families clinging to hope. Gracie’s legacy will live in restored sight, renewed breath, and second chances she never hesitated to offer.
As Frisco buries its daughters, the pain remains acute. Parents hug their children tighter, schools offer grief counseling, and neighborhoods that once echoed with carefree sledding now fall silent in reflection. Yet in honoring Gracie’s wish, the community finds a thread of light: tragedy can coexist with generosity, loss with legacy. Two best friends, gone too soon, remind us that even in darkness, one selfless choice can illuminate countless futures.
Gracie and Lizzie—together forever, and now, through Gracie’s gift, helping others live.