Christopher Kepner had never watched the entire 47-second hallway video. Not until yesterday.

FBI agents sat him down in a windowless interview room at the Brevard County Sheriff’s Office and hit play on the enhanced, audio-restored clip that has now been viewed 42 million times online. For the first time, the microphone captured every word.

Anna’s bare feet slapping carpet. Her broken whisper: “Ethan… please… I won’t tell Dad, I swear…” The calm, ice-cold teenage reply from inside the cabin: “Too late. You should’ve kept your mouth shut.”

Then the grab. The yank. The door slam.

Christopher, a 6-foot-3 ex-Marine turned mechanic who hasn’t cried since his own father’s funeral, collapsed forward onto the metal table and screamed like a wounded animal. Deputies say it took three men to keep him from punching through the cinder-block wall.

When he finally spoke to reporters outside the station at dusk, his voice was raw, shredded, unrecognizable.

“I hope that little bastard suffers every single day he breathes,” he rasped, clutching the purple pom-pom keychain Anna had on her cruise lanyard. “He didn’t just kill her. He hunted her. He smiled when he dragged my daughter back into that room. I saw it on his face. Smiled. Like it was a game.”

Christopher has now joined prosecutors in demanding Ethan Hudson, 16, be tried as an adult for first-degree premeditated murder, a charge that carries mandatory life without parole in Florida.

“That boy is no child,” he told the assembled cameras, eyes bloodshot and blazing. “He planned it. He wrote it on his phone. He picked that cabin because the walls were thick and the ocean swallowed screams. If the law lets him hide behind ‘juvenile,’ then the law is broken and I’ll fix it myself.”

Inside sources say the decision to show Christopher the unfiltered footage was deliberate: prosecutors needed the father’s visceral reaction on record to counter any future defense claim that the family wants “healing” or “restorative justice.” They got more than they bargained for.

Christopher has already signed an affidavit stating he will personally attend every single court appearance, even if it means shutting down his auto shop for years. He wants Ethan to see his face every day of the trial.

“I want him to look at the man whose little girl he strangled while she begged,” he said. “I want him to know I’ll be the last thing he sees before they lock that cage forever.”

The interview ended with Christopher pulling a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket, Anna’s handwriting in purple Sharpie, the note she left on his toolbox the morning they left for the cruise:

“Daddy, thank you for the best family vacation ever. I love you bigger than the ocean. See you in six days. – Banana”

He held it up to the cameras, tears streaming.

“Six days never came. Because that monster decided my daughter’s life was worth less than his secrets.”

As he walked away, he turned one last time and spoke directly into the lenses, voice dropping to a deadly whisper that sent chills through every reporter present:

“Ethan, if you’re watching this from your little cell… Sleep light, kid. One day the lights go out for good, and I’ll still be here. Waiting.”

The video of Christopher’s breakdown outside the sheriff’s office has already been viewed 28 million times. In the comments, one line repeats over and over from strangers who never met Anna Kepner:

Daddy’s got you now, baby girl. Justice is coming.