The sister of murdered Ohio dentist Spencer Tepe has spoken publicly for the first time since the brutal double homicide that claimed the lives of her brother and his wife Monique on December 30, 2025. In an emotional interview granted to a local Columbus news station and shared widely online, she described the unimaginable grief of losing two family members in a single night while two young children—the couple’s four-year-old daughter and one-year-old son—were left without parents. Her voice trembled as she addressed the camera, but her message was clear, steady, and filled with unbreakable love.

“They were stolen from us,” she began, pausing to wipe away tears. “Spencer and Monique were the heart of our family. They didn’t just love each other—they built a home where love was the only rule. And now that home has a hole in it that nothing can fill.”

The sister, who asked to remain anonymous to protect the children’s privacy, spoke at length about the couple’s life together. Spencer, 37, was the kind of dentist who remembered every patient’s birthday and stayed late to comfort a nervous child. Monique was the mother who turned ordinary days into adventures—baking themed cookies, organizing backyard treasure hunts, reading stories with funny voices until bedtime became the best part of the day. Together they created a world for their children that felt safe, joyful, and full of wonder.

“The hardest part is watching their little girl,” she said. “She’s four. She still asks when Mommy and Daddy are coming home from work. She sets a place for them at the table. She wears Monique’s cardigan when she’s scared and hums the songs Spencer used to sing while brushing her teeth. Every single day she shows us that they’re still here—in her smile, in her kindness, in the way she protects her baby brother. Their love didn’t die that night. It’s living through her.”

The interview came weeks after the initial shock of the murders gave way to the long, grinding reality of grief and legal proceedings. Michael David McKee, Monique’s ex-husband from a marriage that ended years earlier, has been charged with two counts of aggravated murder and is awaiting trial. Investigators have described the attack as targeted and premeditated, rooted in lingering resentment that never fully disappeared after the divorce. The sister did not speak about the accused or the case itself; instead she focused entirely on remembering who Spencer and Monique were, not how they died.

She shared a memory that has stayed with her: “Spencer used to say that the best part of being a dad was watching his daughter discover something new—whether it was a ladybug on a leaf or the way bubbles float. He’d get this look on his face, pure wonder. Monique would laugh and say, ‘You’re such a softie.’ But she loved it too. They were each other’s safe place. And they were ours.”

The family has been overwhelmed by the community’s response. A GoFundMe started shortly after the tragedy has raised more than $950,000 to support therapy, future education, and a trust fund for the children. Neighbors continue to deliver meals, offer childcare, and simply sit with the grandmother and aunt who have stepped in as primary caregivers. Teachers at the preschool have created a permanent “memory corner” filled with photos, drawings, and tiny keepsakes so the little girl can touch her parents whenever she needs them. Letters from strangers arrive daily—many from other parents who have lost loved ones, sharing stories of how grief softens but never fully fades.

When asked how the family is coping, the sister paused for a long moment. “We’re not coping,” she said honestly. “We’re surviving. One breath, one day, one memory at a time. The kids keep us going. They don’t know how to give up, so we don’t either. And every time that little girl laughs, or hugs her brother, or says something Monique used to say… we feel them. They’re still here. They’re still loving us through her.”

She ended the interview with a message directed to anyone who has ever lost someone too soon: “Hold your people close. Tell them you love them—even when it feels silly or too much. Because one day you might not get to say it again. And love… love doesn’t die. It changes shape. It becomes the way your child smiles, the songs they hum, the kindness they show the world. That’s how Spencer and Monique are still with us. That’s how they’ll always be with us.”

The interview has been viewed millions of times online. Comments sections are filled with tears, prayers, and stories of personal loss. Many have called it “the most beautiful, heartbreaking thing” they’ve seen in years. Strangers have sent donations, cards, and stuffed animals to the family. One message from a woman in another state read: “I lost both my parents young too. Tell that little girl her mommy and daddy are her guardian angels now. They’ll never stop watching over her. And neither will we.”

In the midst of unimaginable pain, the Tepe family has found a fragile but real light: the children. The four-year-old girl who still sets an extra place at the table. The one-year-old boy who reaches for hands that once held him. And the family members who have vowed to carry Spencer and Monique’s love forward—no matter how heavy the grief becomes.

Their story is not one of justice or revenge. It is one of endurance, memory, and the quiet miracle of love that refuses to end. Spencer and Monique are gone, but they live on—most powerfully—in the daughter who still feels them near, in every smile, every song, every whispered “I love you.”

And in the hearts of everyone who has heard her aunt speak, that love now lives on too.