Three Angels Lost in the Bath — A Father’s Revenge and a Mother’s Endless Grief. Hyn
It was supposed to be a normal Monday afternoon — just another exchange between two estranged parents, the kind that happens quietly every day in neighborhoods across America.
But for 35-year-old mother
Debbie Karels, June 13, 2022, would become the day her world stopped.
That afternoon, she drove to her estranged husband’s home in Round Lake Beach, Illinois, to pick up their three young children after his weekend visitation. The air was warm, the sky was still, and the suburban street looked peaceful — nothing to hint at the nightmare waiting behind that door.
When Debbie walked into the house, everything was too quiet. No laughter. No tiny footsteps running to greet her. Just silence.
She called out their names — “Bryant? Cassidy? Gideon?” — but no one answered.
Then, she saw them.
Lying together on the bed.
Her three beautiful babies — Bryant Anthony, age 5, Cassidy Rose, age 3, and Gideon Locke, just 2 years old.
Their faces were still, their bodies pale and lifeless.
It was the kind of sight that freezes time itself.
Debbie screamed. The sound shattered through the house, through the still air, through everything she had ever known about life and love.
Her children were gone.
And the man who had taken them — their father — was nowhere to be found.
A Father’s Betrayal
Jason Karels had been struggling. Those close to the family described him as unstable and emotionally volatile after the couple’s separation. What began as a custody battle had spiraled into something darker — an obsession with control.
To the outside world, he appeared to be just another father navigating a painful divorce. But inside his mind, resentment had been building.
On that day, June 13, 2022, it reached its horrifying conclusion.
Police would later confirm that Jason drowned each of the three children, one by one, in the bathtub. After killing them, he laid their bodies gently on the bed, covering them as though putting them down for a nap.
Then he wrote a note.
“If I can’t have them, neither can you.”
And he left — leaving behind a scene that would haunt investigators, first responders, and an entire community forever.
The Discovery
When police arrived, they were met by chaos and grief. Debbie, inconsolable, kept screaming their names. Officers immediately secured the scene and began searching for Jason, who had fled the home in his red Nissan Maxima.
An Amber Alert was issued, and police from multiple counties began a manhunt. It didn’t take long.
A few hours later, officers spotted Jason’s car, and a high-speed chase ensued across several highways. The pursuit ended when Jason crashed his vehicle near Interstate 80 in Joliet.
Miraculously, he survived the crash.
Inside his car, investigators found evidence connecting him directly to the murders — and Jason himself confessed on the spot. He told police exactly what he had done.
“I drowned them,” he said. “I wanted her to find them.”
Even the most seasoned detectives were shaken.
The Weight of the Words
“If I can’t have them, neither can you.”
Six words — venomous, final, unforgettable.
That sentence has since echoed across the internet, across newsrooms, across every parent’s heart who heard this story.
It wasn’t just a crime of passion. It was a declaration of ownership, of cruelty, of the twisted belief that love is possession.
Experts in family psychology call it “family annihilation” — when one parent destroys their children as an act of revenge against the other. It’s a phenomenon both horrifying and tragically familiar, often fueled by rage, narcissism, and a desire for control.
But no explanation could ever make sense of it.
Who They Were
Before they became headlines, Bryant, Cassidy, and Gideon were full of life.
Bryant, the oldest, loved dinosaurs and Legos. He was known for his curious questions and his gentle heart — always the first to comfort his younger siblings when they cried.
Cassidy was the dreamer. Her curls bounced when she ran, and she loved to twirl in her favorite pink dress. She sang to her dolls, made up stories, and believed every cloud looked like a unicorn.
And little Gideon — the baby — was just learning to talk. His favorite word was “Mama.” He would run to Debbie with his arms outstretched, eyes bright with trust and love.
They were innocent. They were loved. And they deserved to grow up.
A Mother’s Despair
For Debbie, grief became her shadow. The images of that day replay endlessly in her mind — the silence, the stillness, the unimaginable realization.
She spoke later through tears, saying, “I don’t know how to keep living after this. They were my world. My everything.”
Friends and neighbors described her as a devoted mother who lived for her children. She worked tirelessly to give them stability, to keep their lives as normal as possible during the separation.
She never imagined that the man she once trusted could commit such an unspeakable act.
The Trial and the Aftermath
After his arrest, Jason Karels was charged with three counts of first-degree murder. Prosecutors set his bond at $10 million, ensuring he would remain behind bars as he awaited trial.
He showed little remorse in court. Witnesses described him as cold and detached.
The community of Round Lake Beach, Illinois, struggled to comprehend the tragedy. Memorials appeared outside the family’s home — teddy bears, candles, flowers, and notes from strangers who wept for three children they never met.
A vigil was held in their memory. Hundreds attended, holding balloons in the colors the children loved most: blue for Bryant, pink for Cassidy, and yellow for Gideon.
When the balloons rose into the twilight sky, Debbie whispered, “Fly high, my babies.”
The crowd joined her in silence, united in sorrow and disbelief.
When Love Turns Deadly
This story forced an uncomfortable question into the public eye:
How could this have been prevented?
Custody disputes are often fraught with emotion, but when signs of danger emerge — threats, emotional instability, controlling behavior — the warning flags can’t be ignored.
Experts have long urged courts and social workers to take threats seriously, especially when children are used as leverage.
In the Karels case, there had been signs — moments of tension, outbursts, escalating anger — but no one could have predicted the depth of Jason’s rage.
Now, it serves as a devastating reminder of how fragile safety can be when love turns toxic.
The Haunting Legacy
Every year since their deaths, friends and community members gather to remember Bryant, Cassidy, and Gideon.
Photos of the three smiling children are placed at the local park, surrounded by candles and flowers. Debbie attends every vigil, her face pale but resolute.
“I want people to remember them,” she says softly. “Not how they died — but how they lived. How they laughed. How they loved.”
Her words tremble, but her spirit does not break.
Because even in the face of the most unimaginable loss, she refuses to let her children be defined by tragedy alone.
Beyond the Headlines
The story of the Karels children is not just about one family’s heartbreak — it’s a reflection of the hidden crises happening quietly behind closed doors.
Family violence is often invisible until it explodes. And when it does, it leaves behind scars that ripple through generations, communities, and hearts that never fully heal.
Debbie’s fight now is not just for memory, but for awareness — for better systems that protect children caught in the crossfire of custody battles, and for a world where no parent has to experience what she did that day.
She has begun speaking with advocacy groups to raise awareness about parental homicide, hoping her voice might save another child, another mother, another family from the same fate.
The House That Still Stands
The house where it happened still stands. Neighbors say it feels haunted — not by ghosts, but by silence.
No one plays in the yard anymore. The windows stay dark. The grass grows long.
But sometimes, at dusk, people passing by say they can almost hear children’s laughter carried on the wind — the echoes of three small lives that ended far too soon.
A Mother’s Promise
On the first anniversary of their deaths, Debbie placed three lanterns on the lake near their home.
Each one carried a name:
Bryant. Cassidy. Gideon.
As the lights drifted away, she whispered into the quiet, “You were mine. You will always be mine. And I will make sure the world never forgets you.”
The lanterns floated into the distance — soft lights against the water, fading slowly into the night.
And for a moment, there was peace.
Epilogue: What Remains
Jason Karels sits behind bars, awaiting his fate. No sentence, no punishment, could ever balance what he took.
But for Debbie, justice is not about revenge — it’s about remembrance.
It’s about three tiny souls who deserved tomorrow.
And it’s about ensuring that no other mother has to open a bedroom door and face the silence that greeted her on that terrible June day.
Because behind every statistic is a story.
Behind every tragedy, a heartbeat that once was.
And behind every broken parent — a love that refuses to die.
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