337: Autumn Pasquale

by glass. The story begins before the Revolutionary War, when Jacob Fisler purchased a sprawling track of land. By the May eighteen hundreds, the settlement was known as Fizzler Town and was later renamed Fizzlerville, and thanks to the fine South Jersey sand, which is perfect for glass making, the bar soon became part of a tradition that defined not only the community but the region itself. Generations of artisans

carried that tradition forward. But then when Clavengers, which was the last great glass center, closed, its stores in nineteen ninety nine. The silence was deafening. It took with it not only jobs, but part of Clayton's identity. For the first time in centuries, the town had to look inward to redefine itself in the quiet aftermath. Still, in many ways, Clayton never really changed. Families remained tethered to the soil

that their grandparents and great grandparents had walked on. Some lived in the very houses that they were raised in. Others brought homes just a block or two away from childhood bedrooms. Rootrans deep in the ties between people ran even deeper. Clayton is the kind of place where the straits form a familiar grade of ranchers and cape CODs, where neighbors wave at one another from porches, and where

the details of every day life are quietly observed. People know who take their coffee black, whose dog goes wild at the side of the mail carrier, and which porch lights burn long after ten pm. That intimacy, those small, invisible threads of recognition and care, form a web of watchfulness, a safety net in a sense or not of suspicion, but of genuine community. It was a safety that most

believed could never fail. But in October of twenty twelve, that belief was shaken to its core because in Clayton, a child simply vanished, and suddenly, in a time where everyone knew everyone, silence carried a weight of its own. Autumn Pascali was born on the twenty ninth of October ninety ninety nine to parents Anthony Pascali and Jennifer Cornwall. She was the middle child, with an older brother, a Jay, and a younger sister, Natalie. Her parents' relationship, however, wasn't

meant to last. When Autumn was just three years old, Jennifer moved out of the family home. Custody was shared, but for the most part, Autumn and her siblings lived with their father. In two thousand and five, Anthony and Jennifer finalized their divorce. By twenty twelve, Autumn was a twelve year old girl living on West High Street with her father, her brother and sister, Anthony's girlfriend, and the

girlfriend's children. Anthony was a postal worker, and he kept busy providing for his blended family while Autumn was in that in between stage of life. She was still a child in so many ways, but already carrying hints of independence, an individuality that set her apart. Autumn was described as fearless, especially when it came to her greatest passion, BMX biking. While other kids hesitated before trying tricks that looked intimidating or dangerous, Autumn was the one who leaned forward and

gave it a go. Her BMX bike was her most prized possession. It was white, with the seat patterned with black guns, white hand grips, a silver front rim, and a black rear room. On our Facebook page, she had written in capital letters BMX for life. Autumn was a regular at the Low skate and bike park, where she would spend hours practicing and pushing herself, surrounded by other

kids who shared her love of speed and wheels. When she wasn't at the park, Autumn could often be spotted weaving through the town streets on her bike or catching air off whom he had ramps and friends driveways. One friend's mother, Michelle Doherty, remembered how seriously Autumn took her riding. She was all about her bike. They were always going to the skate park. If they wanted to ride, I would drive behind them in my car. But Autumn wasn't

one dimensional. For all her tomboy energy and passion for bikes, she had a softer and more traditional side as well. She enjoyed roller skating and playing soccer, but she was also part of the cheerleading squad. Autumn was a seventh grader at Clayton Middle School, and she was excelling. She was a straight A student, and she had a sharp

mind and a determination to do well. She was navigating the complicated bridge between childhood and adolescents, figuring out who she was while still holding on to the thing that made her feel young. Her family and friends described her as spirited and independent. Her kindness was remembered fondly by our friend Deanna Edwards McMillan, who said she didn't hate people, and people didn't hate her. Autumn was, in many ways the picture of a child on the cusp of teenagerhood. Curious,

strong willed, playful and bright. But most of all, she was loved by her parents, her siblings, her friends, and the small, close knit community of Clayton that seemed to know her almost as one of their own. October twentieth, twenty twelve, was one of those perfect fall days in Clayton, New Jersey. The kind of day where the air is crisp but comfortable. For a twelve year old with a bike in an afternoon free of obligations, the possibilities felt endless.

That afternoon, Autam's older brother, a Jay, was getting ready for his football game. Their father, Anthony asked if she wanted to tackle long, but Audam had different plans. She told him she was heading out for a bike ride. Before she left, Anthony reminded her of two things, be careful and I love you. Autumn replied, I love you too. She promised to be home for her curfew at eight pm. Then she wailed her prized white Odissey BMX out the door and pedaled down the driveway and out of sight.

But as the sun dipped behind the trees and eight pm came and went, Anthony felt on ease settled in his chest. Autumn hadn't come home. He called Jennifer, Audam's mother, who lived with her new husband, Craig. She hadn't seen Autumn either. After calling friends and coming up empt they Anthony did what no parent ever wants to do. He picked up the phone and called police. Clinton. Police wasted no time officers first spoke with Autum's family, then spread

in the streets to begin their search. Around sixty officers come through the neighborhoods that night, flashlights cutting through the darkness as they called out Autumn's name into the silence. The news spread fast. In a small town like Clayton, word of a missing child is enough to draw people from their homes without hesitation, and by Sunday the search

had swelled to more than two thousand people. Neighbors, classmates, parents, people who had never spoken to Autumn but felt as though they knew her joined police to hand out flyers, knock on doors, and scar fields in wooded lots. The fliers showed a smiling Autumn with blonde hair and blue eyes. She stood about five foot two inches tall and weighed

about one hundred and twenty pounds. On the day that she disappeared, she'd been wearing a yellow Clayton soccer T shirt, navy blue shorts layered under sweatpants, and bright blue high top sneakers. She was also carrying a silver backpack with the word reckless printed across the back. Social media lit up with the peals to find her, but also with a question that grew louder with each passing r Why

hadn't an Amber alert been issued? The UMBER Alert system is designed for moments just like this, when a child is missing and believed to be in imminent danger. It pushes emergency notifications out instantly across television, radio, highway signs, and the internet, but issuing one is an automatic their strict criteria, and Clayton Police said that Autumn's disappearance simply didn't meet it. For an UMBER alert to go live, there has to be evidence that the child was abducted

and evidence that the child's life is in danger. In Autumn's case, there was no indication yet that either was true. To believe she was a missing child not an abducted one, but to a time that knew her, that distinction felt like little comfort. As the search widened, detectives tried to retrace Autumn's movements. They knew she'd left home about twelve thirty that afternoon. About nor later, a message was sent from her f phone. It was a simple text that read,

don't be like that. The text went to her friend, Diana Edwards McMillan, but Diana was puzzled. The message didn't make sense it felt like it wasn't meant for her. And then nothing, No more messages, no more calls. Autumn's phone fell silent. The search for Autumn pressed on, but answers remained painfully out of reach. Detectives began knocking on doors, hoping that somebody, anybody, had seen something that could point them in the right direction, but no one could offer

any useful insight. By Monday, the search had grown larger. The FBI was now involved, bringing with them officers on horseback and police dogs to sweep the area. Overhead, the steady drone of a helicopter circled, scanning the ground below. Volunteers gathered to the municipal building, where organ seizers handed out highlighted maps. Teams of twelve were sent out, moving in careful grids, determined not to overlook a single patch of ground.

The search radias stretched outward, reaching as far as the Holly Green Campground near the Salem County border. With each ar that passed, the urgency grew heavier. Gloucester County Prosecutor Sean Dalton announced a ten thousand dollars reward for information that would bring Autumn home. That evening, as the Sun said Over Clayton, hundreds of people gathered the municipal building for a candle light vigil. Flames flickered against the October darkness.

Each lied a small active hope. Autumn's uncle, Paul, spoke to the crowd. His voice broke as he said they wanted Autumn home for her thirteenth birthday, just stays away on the twenty ninth. He said, say your prayers for Autumn and all the children who are lost and can't find their way home. But Autumn would never make it home for that birthday. Fact Aumn wouldn't make it home

at all. While the community searched for Autumn with desperation and hope, something unsettling was happening in a house just a block away. Inside her home, local mother Anita Saunders logged into her Facebook. Scrolling through her fifteen year old son Justin's page. A post caught her attention. It was just one word Autumn. Another post from the seventeenth of October, just a few days before Autumn disappeared, made her pause even longer. It was a photograph of a BMX bike.

In the comments, Autumn had asked, is that your bike? Justin had replied yep. Autumn responded that's sexy. Justin then replied, lol, thanks, come to my house. Anita kept scrolling, uneased in her chest, she saw more messages between the two of them. Autumn had posted that she needed somebody to install new rims on her bike. Justin had offered to help. The day before she vanished. They had been messaging back and forth. Autumn asked if Justin could install the rims the next day.

Justin then replied, okay, can you meet me somewhere close because I can't really walk that well. Justin had a lingering ankle injury from childhood, making it hard for him to get around. Then the conversation took a different turn. Justin asked if Autumn was single. When she said yes, he told her he thought she was attractive. Then, on the afternoon of the twentieth of October, the day that Autumn vanished, she had messaged him again asking for his address.

When he sent that, she replied, Okay, I'll be there, Just stay there. Anita Saunders had five sons in total, including fifteen year old Justin and seventeen year old Dante Robinson. They lived together with Anita's husband, just a block away from the Passcali home. To the outside world, the Robinson brothers were polite, even responsible. They helped with chores and were often dropped off at the local laundromat to wash the family's clothing. To their mother, they were respectful boys

to the community, they seemed like ordinary teenagers. In fact, both Justin and Dante had been out searching for Autumn. Justin had even liked the Fine Autumn Facebook page. When Autum's brother aj posted online about the search dogs being brought in, Justin commented, that's good, just a new Autumn. They shared a love of BMX biking. Autumn had liked photos of his bike before, and the two had talked about parts and tricks. But not everybody saw the Robinson's

the same way. Someone Clayton were called another side to the brothers, one that Anita either didn't see or didn't want to see. They apparently had a reputation for stealing bikes, and there were neighbors who had clashed with them over it. Justin was a sophomore at Clayton High School, and he wrestled on the school team. Dante, however, attended bank Bridge Developmental Center, a school designed for students with social, behavioral

and academic struggles. Both boys lived with their mother and stepfather, but had no relationship with their biological father, Alonso, who hadn't seen them in years. To some, they were good kids, To others, they were troubled. And as Anida stared at her son's Facebook messages with Autumn, dread coiled in her stomach. It seemed clear that Autumn had gone to her house the day she disappeared, but Justin hadn't mentioned that he had been out searching. He had even commented about the

investigation online. And now Anita was left with a terrifying thought. What if her son had something to do with Autumn's dissipy appearance. After scrolling through the Facebook posts about Audham's disappearance, Anita Robinson felt the heavy weight of unease. Something told her she couldn't ignore what was gnawing at the back of her mind. Her son, Justin, had been acting strangely. She would never forgive herself if he was somehow involved

in Audham's disappearance. Maybe he wasn't, Maybe this was her imagination running away with her. But what if he was, And even if he wasn't, maybe Justin could offer detective some insight into what had happened. Anita contacted the police. She explained that on the day that Autumn disappeared, Justin had been at home with his older brother Dante. Detectives asked if they could search the house. Anita agreed and

handed them over a key. Officers moved carefully from room to room, scanning ordinate signs of family life on made beds, discarded clothes, the clutter of teenage boys. At first, nothing really stood out, but then they descended into the basement. Scattered across the concrete floor were bike parts, frames, wheels, handlebars. Among the piles of metal, one bike called the detective's attention. It wasn't just any bike, it was distinctive. It was

Autumn Surprised BMX. The side of it turned the entire search on its head. Both Justin and Dante were immediately arrested. They were the only ones that were home that day, and now police had Autumn's bike his evidence. At the station, detective separated the brothers into different rooms. In one interrogation room, Dante sat stiffly across from detectives. He denied everything. He said he had no knowledge of what had happened to Autumn or where she was afternoon. He insisted he'd been

upstairs in his bedroom, sleeping and listening to music. If Justin had done something, Dante said he didn't know anything about it, but in the other room, Justin was far less guarded. He leaned forward and admitted in a flat tone, Audun was dead. He'd strangled her. Justin explained that he had invited Autumn over to work on her BMX and maybe trade some parts. Around two forty five pm on the day she vanished, Audumn had come to the house.

She wheeled her BMX up to the front door. Justin invited her in, leading her down into the basement where he kept his bikes and the parts. Once she was down there, away from the street and the sound of passing cars, Justin wrapped his hands around her throat and strangled her. Detectives believed that Justin's motive was to steal at Audum's BMX. After she was dead, he said he stuffed her body into a blue recycling bin and wielded to the yard of a nearby abandoned the house, But

detectives weren't convinced that Justin had acted alone. They believed that Dante may have helped moved Audam's body, although he denied it. Back at the Robinson home, police began a second, more focused search in the yard of the vacant building nearby. They found the recycling bin that Justin had described. Inside was Autumn Pascali. Her body was carefully transported to the medical Examiner's office. An autopsy determined that she had died

from blunt force trauma, consistent with strangulation. There was no evidence of sexual assault. The discovery shook the community. Both Justin and Dante Robinson were charged with first degree murder, conspiracy to commit murder, disposal of a body, tampering with evidence, and theft. Justin was additionally charged with luring. That night, Prosecutor Dalton released a statement which read, this is a

very sad day for the Pascali family. Our hearts go out to the family and to all the residents of Clayton who stood together in support of this young girl. Clayton's mayor, Thomas Bianco, stood outside the crime scene, visibly shaken. He hugged a police officer before speaking briefly to reporters. You hear about it in other places, but never think

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teenage boys were behind the Autumns death stunned everyone. Local residents voiced their belief. We all thought it was some creep luring children, said Joyce Fisher. Another man, Philip Walliams, admitted, it's almost like a relief that it's not some creepo. But what truly shocked people was that Justin had known Autumn and her family. During the search, Audam's brother had posted on Facebook about police bringing in snifferdogs. Justin had replied, doghounts,

that's good. He'd even like to find the Autumn Facebook page, and he attended the vigil for Audum's parents. The loss was unbearable. Her mother, Jennifer, broke down as she spoke with reporters. She was a tough girl, a tough cookie. She didn't deserve to be treated like a piece of trash. Her father, Anthony, noted how close the families were. He said, everyone knows everyone, whether their friends or acquaintances. The family also criticized how the search had been handled. Audam's uncle

Paul publicly questioned why an amburellert was never issued. An accused police of mishandling the investigation. He said, they botched it. These are the professionals we trust and pay. On the twenty sixth of October, just days after Autumn was found, hundreds of mourners filled Our Lady of Lord's Church for her wake. People wore buttons with their face and t

shirts that read Autumn Pascali Forever in our Hearts. They filed past a photocolash showing Autumn happier times, laughing on a roller coaster, smiling with friends, posing with pig, lit at the theme park. At our funeral mass, Monsignor Michael Mannion tried to offer comfort and said so often when someone dies, especially at this age, were haunted by the question why did she die? We struggle with it, we're

hurt by it, we're broken by it. But I hope in the midst of all that graving, we can ask ourselves, why did she live? He encouraged mourners to honor Autumn's generous spirit by doing good work. He said, talk to a classmate sitting alone at a lunch table, organize a charity bike ride in her memory, let her life changers. In the days after Autumn's funeral, the grief and Clayton remained raw. The community had come together in sorrow, united by the loss of a child, but now that focus

shifted to justice. Prosecutor Dalton announced that he would be seeking to have Justin and Dan Day charged as adults. He firmly said it is the state's position, based upon the gravity of the juvenile's actions in causing the death of Autumn, that these cases should be heard in adult court. If the courts agreed, both brothers would be facing a minimum of thirty years in state prison without the possibility of parole. While the legal proceedings moved forward, the town

searched for ways to remember Autumn. A bike trail in Clayton was named in her honor, a poignant tribute to the girl who loved nothing more than riding her bike. The trail began at Scotland Run Park wound through the borough's high school and stretched out to Delsi drive. Gloucester County Freeholder Director Robert Daminger explained she loved her bag more than anything and she wanted to ride. I couldn't think of a better thing to name after a girl

who loved to ride. It was a gesture meant to bring comfort, but in the shadows of grave tensions began to surface. Donations had poured in after Audham's murder, money that was raised for her funeral, legal expenses, and to support her two surviving siblings. By the new year, the fund had reached at least one hundred thousand dollars, but instead of unity, the money sparked bitter conflict between Audham's parents,

Jennifer and Anthony. Jennifer filed a lawsuit against Anthony, claiming that he had removed her name from the memorial funds bank account. She said that they had agreed to manage the money together and that the funds were meant not only for Audum's funeral and legal phase, but also to help with their children's future college expanses. She also accused Anthony of refusing to consult her on the wording for

Audum's gravestone. Jennifer asked the court to intervene to split the memorial fund so that each parent had partial control and to prevent Anthony from completing the headstone without her input. Anthony fired back with his own accusations. He claimed that Jennifer had collected items that were left for him at the funeral home without permission. Jennifer said he had told her it was fine, but Anthony said he didn't. He also accused her of holding onto money that was raised

at a December benefit concert. Jennifer admitted she had placed the fifteen thousand dollars check, along with other cash donations, into a safe deposit box after she discovered her name had been removed from the account. Anthony's attorney, Doug Long, responded with a statement, my client will continue to pursue justice for his daughter Autumn, and justice does not revolve a run money. That are different motivations by different parties.

Anthony's motivation is not money. Long insisted that Anthony had opened the memorial account himself and that Jennifer had only later been added when Jennifer removed belongings addressed to him from the funeral home. Long said that Anthony made the decision to take her name off the account entirely on the issue of the headstone. Long said, like most aspects of the rearing of the three children, this very difficult matter was left to miss her Pascali to deal with

the loan. As if the family turmoil wasn't enough, Criticism of law enforcement also deepened. Around the same time, the Gloucester County Prosecutor's Office made the unusual decision to hand the case over to Camden County. The shift came after it was revealed that Anthony was preparing a civil lawsuit against the prosecutor's office, accusing them of mishandling the search for Autumn. In response, the prosecutor's office issued a statement

defending its actions. During the investigation, over two hundred law enforcement officers from in and around Gloucester County worked tirelessly to find Autumn Piscali. By the end of the month, Jennifer and Anthony quietly settled their lawsuit. The terms of their agreement weren't made public, but the dispute had led bare just how fractured the family had become. On the seventh of August twenty thirteen, the case against Justin Robinson

reached a pivotal moment. By then, Justin was sixteen years old. That morning, he had agreed to have his case moved to adult court, a crucial step for prosecutors who believed the severity of the crime demanded adult charges. But when Justin appeared in the court room later that afternoon, there was a twist. He stunned those present by pleading guilty to aggravated manslaughter. The plea came after negotiations. Prosecutors had feared that a judge might not allow the case to

remain in adele court. Justin's age, coupled with what had been described as his diminished capacity, meant that there was no guarantee. Without that assurance, the risk of a lighter juvenile sentence or even an acquittal was too high. Prosecutor warned Fulk explained what investigators believed had happened. He said that Justin had lured Autumn to his home under the

guise of trading bike parts. Forensic evidence confirmed that Autumn had been killed inside the Robinson Famili's home, Yet beyond Justin's own confession, there was no physical evidence to prove who had placed their hands around Autumn's neck. Justin or his older brother Dandee. Justin then spoke, and with quiet words, he took responsibility. He said, I lured a girl I knew was Autumn to the house with Facebook messages. I

put my hands around her neck to choker. I realized it could have caused her death, and I understand it did. He said that Dan Day had known nothing about what happened in the basement that day. He said he had acted entirely alone. Under the play deal, Justin faced seventeen years in state prison with no chance of parole for fourteen years. The decision was left to Judge Walter Marshall,

who would passed senthence in September. If the case had have remained in juvenile court, the maximum that Justin could have received was twenty years and parole eligibility in less than seven. For Audum's family, the play was difficult, but it was necessary. Both parents attorneys told reporters that given the challenges of the case, prosecutors had done the best

they could. Anthony's attorney, Doug Long, put it plainly when he said, mister packscally knows that no amount of years on a sentence is going to bring his daughter back. The only justice would be to bring Autumn back, but that will never happen. The fear was that without Justin's guilty play, there was a chance he could have walked free. Then, on the twelfth of September, Justin Robinson was brought back into the courtroom for sentencing. Audam's family gathered to speak

of her life, their grief echoing through the chamber. They described Autumn as a loving tomboy, a girl who adored her BMX bike and who always wore mismatched socks. Her old soccer team, the Clayton Comments had since renamed themselves Audam's Angels, and they retired her number fourteen jersey in her honor. But the memories were painful. Her grandmother, Mary, who had been a teacher for twenty two years and had even taught Justin, described how her life had been shattered.

She said she could no longer build report with her students and had retired after the murder. Each time she saw the blue recycling bins left out on the curb, she cried, knowing that her granddaughter's body had been discarded in one. She recalled how Aum would pick her head had into her class room and sign I love you as she passed the PA and I feel is unfathomable. She said. Autumn's presence was palpable. In the court room, her portrait was projected on to a large screen, a reminder of

who was lost. Her mother. Jennifer stood before the judge and said, I hope the defendant this haunted by her memory for the rest of his life. I am living every parent's worst nightmare. Anthony then approached the podium and said, I believe the defendant deserves more than seventeen years. I believe his fate should be nothing but death. But Justin's defense painted a different picture. His defense attorney, Jane Faulkner told the court that Justin wasn't a monster, but a

boy that was shaped by trauma. She said he had suffered post traumatic stress from being physically abused as a young child and from witnessing his father strangle his mother on multiple occasions. This is a learned behavior, she said. She argued that Justin had a Leewaiq intellectual disabilities and a d h day. She said with his disabilities in his age, adding to his sentence would not add to

any special deterrence. His mother, a Nita, also spoke. She said that Justin was remorseful and not the person that was portrayed in the headlines. She remembered him as a happy child, somebody who took pride in being independent, mowing lawns and helping neighbors. When Justin was asked if he had anything to say, he turned to Judge Marshall and said, I am sorry. I never meant for this to happen. This was all a big mistake. Judge Marshall then delivered

his sentence seventeen years in state prison. Outside the court house, emotions spilled over. Dozens of people had gathered, many believing the punishment was far too lenient. Among them was Rick Fernaco, who held a sign that read had just the time to fit the crime Justice for Autumn. He then said to reporters, it sucks. What does that say. You can kill someone and live life and the person who's killed doesn't have a life any more. It sucks big time.

That's the same week, just days after Justin Robinson had been sentenced to seventeen years in prison, his brother Dante walked free. The decision came after Justin's court room statement when he said that he had acted alone in Autumn's murder. Dante had already pleaded guilty to a far lesser charge, fourth to grae obstruction, which carried a sixth month jail sentence,

but with time served, he was released immediately. His defense attorney, Chris Hoffner, told reporters that the outcome proved what the family had always claimed. He admitted no crime. This confirms what we always knew. Dante didn't hurt the victim and was not involved in her death or the moving of her body. People may not want to believe it, but the truth prevailed to Day and Dante's home. But not everybody was convinced. Conversations exploded online and in the community.

Many simply couldn't believe that Dante had played no part. The disbelief came down to one simple fact. Audam's body had been carried from the basement up a flight of stairs outside the house and stuffed into a recycling bin next door. Could a fifteen year old with an ankle injury manage that entirely on his own? For many, the thought seemed impossible. As the debate played out in public,

Autumn's father, Anthony turned to the court. The next month, he filed a civil lawsuit against Justin and Dante's parents, Anita and Alonzo, and it Anthony accused them of negligence, arguing that they had failed to supervise Justin despite knowing he was a troubled teenager, prone to theft and deeply affected by years of domestic violence. His attorney was blunt and said, if you're going to raise a murderer, you're going to take responsibility for it. Anthony explained that the

lawsuit wasn't about the money. What he wanted was accountability and awareness. He even created a petition calling for a new piece of legislation, Autumn's Law, that would hold parents responsible for the violent crimes of their children. Anita pushed back in March. She argued that she shouldn't be held liable for what her son had done. Instead, she filed her own civil complaint, attempting to shift responsibility on to

her ex husband and Justin himself. Later that year, Anthony also filed lawsuits against several law enforcement agencies, alleging they had mishandled Autumn's disappearance and suggesting she might have been saved if officers had acted differently, but the truth was that Autumn had already been killed long before Anthony reported her missing. The lawsuit was dismissed. Life, however, had more

in store for the Robinson family. In May of twenty seventeen, Dante Robinson was back in the headlines, this time facing serious adult charges. He had been arrested after a home invasion went violently wrong. Dante was discovered bleeding and pounding on doors for help after being shot during the crime. His mother and Ada rushed to his defense. Once again, she claimed her son had been manipulated, claiming he was only driving the other suspects to the scene and had

no intention of harming anyone. She said, He's very naive and easily manipulated. I know for a fact he did not intentionally go anywhere to cause anyone harm that Anthony Pascali was not sympathetic. On Facebook, he posted, is anybody surprised by this recent event? Most likely not the infamous brothers? Once again in the spotlight. He got away the first time. Let's see what the justice system will do now. This time, the justice system wasn't lenient. Dante Robinson was convicted on

charges ranging from robbery to aggravated assault. He was sentenced to thirty five and a half years in prison. Meanwhile, his brother, Justin had remained largely silent about Autumn's murder other than what he had confessed in court. That was until twenty eighteen, when both he and his mother sat down separately for interviews with NJ Advance Media. For the first time. Justin pushed back against the version of events

that was presented in court and in the press. He denied luring Autumn to his home to steal her bike. He claimed their deadly encounter started with something as trivial as ten dollars.

went wrong between two kids. It was a genuine accident that wasn't planned. She was not leaving her bike. You had two young kids, and they're both trying to stand their ground. Before Justin was led back to his cell, he made one final statement that was directed at Autumn's family. His voice, according to the reporter, was quiet, almost pleading. It was an honest mistake. I'm being punished for it. I hope they can just forgive me. It's hard to forgive a person when they take one of your loved

one's life. I want them to know that I really am sorry. Well, that is it for this episode of Morbidology. As always, thank you so much for listening, and I'd like to say a massive thank you to my new supporters up on Patreon, not Rob Sheridan Malick, Laura, Michelle, Myra Zowey, Adrian, Sheila and Connor. The supporter of bon Patreon, saraus sarahs It goes such a long way, and I

am eternally grateful. On Patreon, I upload adfree and early release episodes behind the scenes, and I also send out I thank you card along with some co merch up on Patreon and Apple subscriptions. I also have bonus episodes of Morbidology Plus that aren't on the regular podcast platforms, so please do feel free to check that out of your interest. Remember to check us out at morbidology dot com for more information about this episode and to read

some true crime articles. Until next time, take care of yourselves, stay seefe, and have an amazing week.