The mother’s warning was correct: Newly released audio from Texas A&M student Brianna Aguilera’s final phone call reveals confusion and distress that completely contradicts APD’s initial conclusion and proves the family’s push for a deeper investigation was justified. Those words, etched into a bombshell transcript unsealed on December 9, 2025, by the Travis County DA’s office, aren’t just legalese—they’re a lifeline from beyond the grave. Brianna, the 19-year-old Laredo firebrand with a law school destiny, didn’t whisper her last words in quiet surrender. Her voice—frantic, fractured, laced with pleas—crackles through the static: “He’s here… Mom, what do I do? The door…” It’s a far cry from the tidy “suicide note” Austin PD peddled last week, a narrative now crumbling under the weight of raw audio that screams foul play. As high-profile attorney Tony Buzbee rallies the Aguilera clan for a Texas Rangers takeover, the nation watches a “closed case” claw its way back from the crypt. Was this a desperate dive into darkness… or a daughter’s dodged screams for salvation?

The audio’s release—Exhibit G in a 52-page supplemental filing, compelled by Buzbee’s relentless subpoenas—drops like a grenade into APD’s fortress. It’s not the 22-second voice memo from last week’s leak; this is the full 56-second borrowed-phone lifeline to boyfriend Alex Rivera at 12:28 a.m. on November 29, 2025. Previously summarized in Detective Robert Marshall’s December 4 presser as a “heated but mundane argument,” the unredacted waveform tells terror’s tale. Brianna’s voice starts slurry but sharp—BAC 0.18 fog notwithstanding: “Babe, the fight’s dumb… Girls are chill, but I’m spinning… Wait, knock? No, balcony wind…” Then, the pivot: A muffled thump, her breath hitching like a cornered animal. “Alex? Someone’s outside—door’s rattling. He’s coming… What if it’s him? Mom said stay safe, but—” Static surges, a chair scrape, her whisper fracturing: “Help… confused, gotta hide… Love you, bye.” The line dies at 12:29 a.m. One minute later? The thud that ended her—body crumpling 17 stories below 21 Rio Apartments, skull shattered, dreams dashed on dew-kissed turf.

Stephanie Rodriguez, the night-shift nurse who raised Brianna on Selena ballads and border-town grit, had warned APD from day one: “My girl’s a fighter, not a faller. Listen to her voice.” Dismissed as grief’s grasp, her hunch now haunts the headlines. The filing’s forensic gloss—audio authenticated by UT Austin’s linguistics lab—flags “elevated distress markers: pitch variance 45% above baseline, lexical confusion.” APD’s initial transcript? Pruned to “Boyfriend spat, suicidal ideation.” Exhibit H appends the edit log: Marshall’s notes, “Omit ambient noise for clarity—non-evidentiary.” Non-evidentiary? That’s the “he” Brianna names twice—echoing her October texts to pals: “Alex’s jealousy could kill me one day.” Her warning? Spot-on. The audio doesn’t just contradict; it catapults the case from “tragic self-harm” to “timeline terror.”

Rewind the reel to that rivalry-ravaged night, November 28, 2025. The Lone Star Showdown—A&M Aggies vs. UT Longhorns—thunders through Austin, 100,000 throats raw under Darrell K Royal’s lights. Brianna, Bush School sophomore with a cheerleader’s spark and a lawyer’s laser-focus, skips the stadium for the Austin Rugby Club tailgate at 4:17 p.m. Snapchat immortalizes her glee: Maroon beanie, mid-whoop, “Gig ’em or go home!” But by 9:45 p.m., the party’s poison. Witnesses—five UT pledges in the docs—peg her “highly intoxicated,” phone fumbled into foliage during a venomous FaceTime with Alex: “Out whoring? You’ll regret it.” Security ejects her at 10:01 p.m., no charges, just a cab voucher. Her gear—purse, jacket, iPhone— “recovered” Sunday by K-9s, unscratched. Stephanie’s affidavit scoffs: “Planted props in a panic plot.”

Stumbling to sanctuary, Brianna Lyfts to 21 Rio at 11:13 p.m., crashing Unit 1704—Mia Hargrove’s sorority den, a fairy-lit fiasco of futons and fairy tales. The trio awaits: Mia (20), Lena Vasquez (19), Sofia Chen (21). Pre-game sips turn sloppy; DoorDash tacos land at 11:52, cams catching the lobby hum. But the filings’ fracture: Girls swear “exodus at 12:15,” yet Mia’s IG at 12:20 frames four faces; Lena’s geo-snaps lock till 12:41. The audio’s ambient? Door knocks at 12:27—unlogged by APD. Post-call, the girls’ 911 at 12:14: “She’s gone—balcony’s breached!” Hysteria or hedge? Their synced alibis, per Exhibit I’s psych eval: “Over-rehearsed, evasion spikes on ‘knock’ query.”

The fall? 12:30 a.m. sharp—Javier Ruiz, night-shift barista, 911s the horror: “Thud from above—screams first, ‘Get away!’ female voices.” Paramedics hit 12:47; Brianna’s eulogy writes itself by 12:56—blunt trauma, one sneaker 18 feet displaced, Aggie ring clenched like a talisman. Balcony’s barren: No DNA, no prints, “recent wipe residue” per forensics. At 44 inches high—Brianna’s 5’2″ no match—it’s no casual climb. Toxicology: Booze brutal, no foulants. The deleted November 25 note—”Can’t anymore, sorry Mom/Dad/Alex”—now reeks retrofitted, amid October scars from “fights gone wrong.” APD’s December 4 confab—”Suicide supported: Note, ideation texts”—ignored the audio’s alarm bells. Marshall’s “no criminality”? Blitzed by this blast.

Justification? The family’s crusade, ignited December 2 when Stephanie commandeered the phone and unearthed the memo, now nuclear. Buzbee—Aggie alum, Buzbee Law titan—stormed a December 5 Houston presser: “APD’s autopsy on truth: Sloppy, swift, sidelined.” With Gamez Law, they’ve subpoenaed the trio, Alex, and cams (17th-floor “glitch”). GoFundMe? $387K and climbing, footnotes fueling #BriannaAudio: 4.1 million X rants by December 9. Aggie alums swarm Kyle Field vigils—December 7’s 1,200-strong sea of maroon, candles carving her name. TikTok timelines mock the “suicide script”—9M views, dissecting “knock” echoes. KSAT panels pillory: “Audio’s anarchy—APD’s asleep at the wheel.”

Chief Lisa Davis’s December 8 retort—”Open probe, ME rules cause”—staggers, ethics flags on Marshall’s edits. Texas Rangers docket December 10, per DA whisper: Full re-canvas, wiretaps on the girls’ ghosts. Stephanie, hollow-eyed at Laredo’s December 8-9 funeral—Brianna in lace, pin proud—eulogized: “Her confusion was conquest; our distress, duty.” Javier, border sentinel, vows: “She’d litigate for the lost—we litigate for her.” Siblings Mia (16) and Carlos (22) man the digital front: IG Lives grilling “Who knocked?” Whispers web: Jealous Alex’s shadow? Party push? The audio’s “he”—boyfriend’s bogey or balcony intruder?

As December 9 dims—Christmas kitsch clashing with keening—Brianna’s mural gleams in Laredo: Eyes defiant, mid-dream. Austin’s underbelly? Upended. Newly released waves don’t dictate doom—they dismantle denial. Mom’s warning? Weaponized. Confusion’s chorus, distress’s dirge: APD’s conclusion? Contradicted, cremated. The push? Proven, propelled. For Brianna—border beacon, brief blaze—justice isn’t echo; it’s eruption. Stephanie replays: “He’s here… help.” The call’s closed; the case? Cataclysmic. Listen close: Her distress demands it. And now, we all hear the roar.