Teen Smiles in Court, Thinks Family’s With Her — Until They Speak | HO!!

She reached out to true crime influencers, urging them to feature the murders she was accused of committing.

Her story captivated the public.

A case where charm and family loyalty wouldn’t be enough.

If this case is new to you, sit tight because what happened on the morning of February 20th, 2025 will challenge everything about family, guilt, and how far a teenage girl’s world can unravel.

Thursday, February 20th, 2025.

Early morning around 7:15 a.m.

Tyus Road, Carolton, Georgia.

A 5-year-old girl walks into her parents’ bedroom.

What she finds is a sight no child should ever see.

Her father, 45-year-old James Brock, and her mother, 41-year-old Kristen Brock, are sprawled across the bedroom floor, lifeless, blood pooling around them.

Her cries echo through the house.

17-year-old Sarah Grace Patrick, rushes in.

She tries to calm her younger halfsister, Jaye.

It’s impossible.

The child is hysterical.

So Sarah makes a decision.

She calls the police.

Carolton County police arrive within minutes.

Nearly half a dozen officers respond.

They find the couple together in the bedroom.

Blood pouring from multiple gunshot wounds.

But then investigators notice something that doesn’t fit.

No sign of a struggle, no forced entry, no broken windows, no kicked in doors.

Just a middle-aged couple shot dead in their sleep.

One door had been left slightly a jar.

The home is immediately cordoned off.

Yellow tape surrounds the property.

Evidence preservation becomes critical.

Crime scene technicians arrive with their equipment.

This looks like an inside job.

Someone with intimate knowledge of the family, someone who knew their routines, their vulnerabilities, when they slept, where they slept.

But investigators can’t say for certain.

Not yet.

The evidence needs to speak first.

The most pressing matter.

Where will the surviving children go? Social services need an answer.

Fast.

Caitlyn O’Keefe steps forward.

She takes the two girls into her care.

Before Sarah’s biological father divorced her mother, Caitlyn had been friends with him.

James was Sarah’s stepfather, not her biological parent.

With a familiar face as a guardian, Sarah begins settling back into routine.

She even returns to school within days.

Teachers report she seems calm, composed, almost too composed for someone who just lost both parents.

But behind that calm exterior, Sarah is already setting something in motion, something darker than anyone realizes.

What the defense didn’t know yet would become the prosecution’s strongest evidence.

To understand what happened, you need to know the family’s history.

Sarah’s mother, Kristen, was a divorce.

After her first marriage ended, she began seeing James Brock.

They spent 10 years together before marrying in December 2023, a blended family.

Sarah and her brother are from Kristine’s first marriage.

5-year-old Jaye from James’ previous relationship.

From the outside, they looked perfect, but appearances can deceive.

James suffered from severe heart problems.

He relied on an LVAD device, a left ventricular assist device, surgically implanted, battery operated.

A mechanical pump keeps his failing heart working.

This detail becomes critical later.

Remember it.

It was a last resort, keeping him alive until doctors could find a heart transplant match.

He’d nearly died in 2021.

Kristen posted on Facebook begging for prayers.

He pulled through until February 20th, 2025.

Here’s what the defense wanted the court to believe.

This couple had turned their lives around, reformed, devoted parents.

But court documents tell a different story.

The couple had a history with drugs.

This destroyed Kristine’s first marriage to Sarah’s biological father in 2018.

Court documents stated, “The mother has unrehabilitated substance abuse issues, and both she and her boyfriend failed to provide a suitable drug-free environment for minor children adequately.

A custody battle followed.

Eventually, joint legal custody was agreed upon.

Kristen got primary physical custody.

Dorn saw the children on alternate weekends, but the couple claimed they’d moved past all that, found religion, and changed their ways.

They became deeply religious, committed members of Catalyst Church in Carolton, 45 mi west of Atlanta, attended regularly, volunteered, appeared devoted to their faith and family.

When they died, the church held a memorial service.

Friends filled the pews.

Family members spoke.

James’ oldest son from his first marriage gave an emotional tribute.

Tears, embraces, grief.

Sarah was allowed to speak, too.

She mounted the pulpit, addressed the congregation.

>> I just wanted to say goodbye to my mama and Jamie since we never got the chance to.

I was so used to you guys always being here to a point that I never once thought to imagine y’all not being here.

I didn’t have a single clue how much I needed y’all until now.

For James, thank you for all the life lessons you taught me and for being the best bonus dad ever.

Your heart will finally be healed in heaven and neither of you will be in any pain anymore.

Although that gives me so much comfort.

Your fight was not supposed to end there.

Although there’s nothing we can do to bring them back, we still have control over how we treat people with us today.

Therefore, when someone tries to tell you anything, no matter how unfortunate it could be, just listen.

Because you never know when somebody’s time to go, you can say good night and wake up a few hours just to find out they aren’t there despite their joy and their love.

So just listen and never take a hug or anyone or anything for granted in love with all that you have in you like they did.

>> Watch the video closely.

Everyone else who speaks that day struggles.

Voices breaking, tears streaming, genuine raw grief pouring out.

Sarah, no tears.

Her voice stays steady, controlled, too polished, too collected for someone who just lost both guardians.

The two people raising her.

Her composure is chilling.

Some attendees notice, whisper about it afterward.

Others defend her.

Everyone grieavves differently, they say.

Maybe she’s in shock, processing trauma in her own way.

Then investigators discovered something that changed everything.

Before the murders, Sarah had a Tik Tok account.

Like most teens her age, she spent hours scrolling, watching videos, creating content, and following trends.

She particularly loved true crime content.

Spent countless hours watching cases unfold, mysteries solved, killers caught, evidence analyzed.

She knew the genre inside and out, the tropes, the patterns, the way investigators work.

But after her parents died, Sarah started doing something strange.

Something that would catch investigators attention and become central to the prosecution’s case.

She started messaging true crime influencers, multiple creators, dozens of messages, all with the same goal, all follow the same pattern.

She wanted them to cover her parents’ case, the murders she was accused of committing.

She pitched it like a story, like content, like entertainment.

Think about that for a moment.

Court documents revealed that Sarah sent several messages to different creators across multiple platforms, Tik Tok, Instagram, YouTube.

The messages were eerily similar, almost like she’d crafted a template.

One creator received this message from Sarah.

Hey, I was wondering if you would be able to cover my parents’ murder case.

It’s super interesting and I think your audience would love it.

Super interesting.

Those were her words about her parents’ murders, about the people who raised her, who fed her, who put a roof over her head.

The creator was disturbed, deeply uncomfortable.

This wasn’t a normal request.

This was someone allegedly grieving their parents, treating their deaths like entertainment, like clickbait, like content to be consumed.

The creator reported it to the authorities immediately.

Screenshots were taken, every message preserved, every timestamp is documented, turned over to investigators who were already building their case.

Other creators came forward with similar messages.

Sarah had been busy systematically reaching out, building a campaign, trying to control how the story was told before anyone even knew she was a suspect.

The defense claimed Sarah was simply seeking answers, trying to understand what happened to her parents, processing grief through familiar channels.

True crime content had always interested her.

This was just her way of coping.

Prosecutors saw something else entirely.

A calculated move.

Someone who wanted control of the narrative.

Someone was managing their public image before charges were even filed.

The messages showed awareness, understanding of how these cases work, how public opinion forms, how narrative spread.

This wasn’t grief.

According to prosecutors, this was damage control.

Investigators began piecing together what happened that morning, the timeline, the sequence of events, who knew what and when.

Sarah told police she’d been asleep the entire time.

Didn’t hear anything unusual.

Woke up to her little sister’s screams.

She claimed she hadn’t heard any gunshots, but what destroyed the defense was what came next.

Remember that LVAD machine from earlier? Here’s why it mattered.

Sarah admitted she heard the machine’s alarm, the loud, persistent beeping.

LVAD devices have built-in alarms, critical safety features.

They activate when there’s a major change in the patients condition, power disconnection, battery failure, internal bleeding, cardiac arrest.

The alarms are designed to be impossible to ignore.

They start at a moderate volume, then escalate louder and louder, more urgent, more insistent.

The severity of the sound matches the severity of the problem.

According to Sarah’s official statement to investigators, she went to sleep around midnight on February 19th.

She heard the LVAD alarm somewhere between 11:40 p.m.

and 11:50 p.m.

10 to 20 minutes before she claimed she fell asleep.

She heard a critical medical alarm from her stepfather’s life-saving device, a device keeping him alive.

She didn’t get up to check, didn’t go see if he was okay, didn’t alert her mother, didn’t call for help, just went to sleep.

Let that sink in.

But the contradiction gets worse.

Sarah claimed she heard the loud medical alarm from a life-threatening device malfunction.

Heard it clearly enough to remember it.

Mentioned it specifically in her police statement, but didn’t hear gunshots.

Multiple gunshots fired inside the same house just down the hall.

Defense attorneys claimed deep sleep, exhaustion from the day.

Teenagers sleep heavily, they argued.

It’s scientifically documented.

Their circadian rhythms are different.

But evidence suggested something else.

That she knew exactly what was happening because she was the one making it happen.

This wasn’t the only contradiction investigators would uncover.

But there was something else the defense didn’t know yet.

Something that would seal Sarah’s fate.

Forensic analysis of the crime scene revealed additional details.

Ballistics, blood spatter patterns, trajectory analysis.

The killer had stood close, very close.

This wasn’t a random shooting from a distance.

Both victims had been shot multiple times at close range while they slept.

They never had a chance to defend themselves.

Never saw it coming.

No defensive wounds, no signs.

They woke up before death.

The bedroom showed minimal disturbance.

The comforter is still mostly covering them.

Pillows in place as if death came silently in the night.

Investigators processed the scene for days.

Every surface is dusted for prints.

Every fiber collected, every drop of blood cataloged.

Shell casings photographed from multiple angles.

Blood spatter experts documenting patterns.

Crime scene reconstructionists are mapping trajectories.

The house itself told a story.

Downstairs appeared normal.

Kitchen clean.

Living room undisturbed.

Nothing out of place.

But upstairs in that bedroom, two lives had ended.

Neighbors reported hearing nothing unusual that night.

No screams, no loud noises.

One neighbor mentioned hearing what might have been firecrackers around midnight.

But this was Georgia, rural Georgia.

People shoot fireworks year round.

Nobody thought twice about it.

Only later would they realize those weren’t fireworks.

Those were gunshots ending two lives.

July 1st, 2025, nearly 4 months after the murders.

The case had gone quiet.

Media attention had faded.

Sarah had been living with her guardian, attending school, and maintaining her routine.

Then the Carol County Sheriff’s Office submits an arrest warrant for 17-year-old Sarah Grace Patrick.

Two counts of murder, two counts of aggravated assault.

On July 8th, Sarah turns herself in.

Her biological father drives her to the station.

She’s booked, fingerprinted, photographed, processed.

Because of the severity of the crimes, prosecutors announced she will be charged as an adult.

This means she’ll face adult penalties if convicted.

Adult prison.

Adult sentencing guidelines.

Two people were murdered in their sleep, shot multiple times, no mercy shown.

The question everyone asks, how did police connect Sarah to the murders? What evidence led them to their own daughter? Authorities haven’t released an official statement detailing their investigation.

They’re keeping their cards close.

Strategy protecting the case for trial, but the evidence trail suggests several factors came together.

Sarah was 17, an avid consumer of true crime content.

She knew what mistakes criminals made, understood how investigators think, recognized what evidence mattered.

She’d watched hundreds of hours of true crime videos, murder mysteries, cold cases, forensic investigations, police interrogations.

She knew the patterns, the procedures, the methods detectives use.

But knowing about crimes and successfully covering them up are vastly different skills.

Theory versus practice, knowledge versus execution.

Watching something explained and actually doing it under pressure are completely different experiences.

Her devices were seized promptly.

Phone, computer, tablet, all taken into evidence within hours of the murders before she could think clearly, before she could cover her tracks.

She likely didn’t have time to delete critical information.

Digital forensics experts went through everything.

Search history, text messages, social media, deleted files recovered.

Nothing escapes forensic analysis.

Modern digital forensics can recover almost anything.

Even data wiped multiple times can sometimes be retrieved.

Incriminating Google searches.

How to dispose of a gun? Can police trace bullets? How long does forensic analysis take? Searches were made weeks before the murders.

Evidence of premeditation.

Text messages expressing hatred toward her parents.

messages to friends, venting, frustration, anger, resentment building.

I wish they were dead.

I can’t wait until they’re gone.

They don’t deserve to be parents.

Messages that would later be presented as evidence of motive.

Screenshots preserved, timestamps documented, context established.

Every digital breadcrumb leads investigators closer to the truth.

Those Tik Tok messages suddenly looked very different.

not griefstricken, not innocent, calculated, manipulative, attempting to control how the story was told.

Police haven’t revealed a definitive motive.

Available information suggests the murders may have been driven by family tensions, conflict, arguments, resentment is building over time.

One neighbor, when interviewed by local news, shared something important.

Kristen had confided in having trouble with Sarah.

Behavioral issues, defiance, arguments escalating.

All she said was Sir Grace was bucking her because she didn’t want to be there.

She wanted to live with her daddy.

>> The neighbor wouldn’t elaborate.

Didn’t want to speak ill of the dead, but the implication was clear.

Things weren’t perfect behind closed doors.

One critical piece of evidence remained missing.

The murder weapon never found at the scene.

Police searched extensively.

Every room was methodically examined.

The yard was combed inch by inch.

Nearby woods were investigated with cadaavver dogs and metal detectors.

Drainage ditches checked.

Storm sewers explored.

Local ponds are drained.

Nothing.

No family member owned a registered gun.

County records showed no firearms registered to James Brock.

None to Kristen.

No ammunition.

No gun safe.

No indication anyone in the household had ever owned a weapon.

This raised critical questions.

Where did the gun come from? Who provided it? Did they know what it would be used for? Were they accessories? Conspirators? Likely scenario.

Sarah obtained the gun from an outside source.

Someone at school, maybe a friend of a friend.

Someone is selling guns illegally.

Georgia’s gun laws are relatively loose.

Private sales don’t require background checks, cash transactions, no records, no paper trail.

After the murders, she disposed of it, threw it in a river, buried it in the woods, gave it back to whoever provided it, wiped it clean of prints first or tried to.

Police may have recovered the weapon later, found her fingerprints, her DNA, her forensics linked her to the gun.

This would explain the confidence in pressing charges, but authorities keep these details classified.

No public statements, no leaked information.

Everything is locked down tight until the trial.

Surveillance footage likely played a crucial role.

The family lived in a wooded area, isolated from neighbors, privacy, space.

But even rural areas have cameras now, ring doorbells, security systems, traffic cameras on main roads.

A single camera could have captured Sarah leaving the house late at night or early morning, carrying something, walking somewhere she shouldn’t be, disposing of evidence, digital footprints combined with physical evidence.

That’s how modern cases get solved.

Prepare yourself for what comes next.

The bond hearing.

The moment Sarah expected to walk free.

She entered the courtroom smiling.

Witness statements began.

The defense called character witnesses.

People who knew Sarah who believed in her innocence.

First up, the family’s pastor, Ben Bonner from Catalyst Church.

He’d known the family for years, watched them grow in faith, seen them change, witnessed their transformation from troubled individuals to committed church members.

To honorable judge, my name is Ben Bonner and I serve as lead pastor at Catalyst Church in Carlton, Georgia.

I’m writing on behalf of Sarah Grace Patrick, a young woman who’s been a part of our church family for about a year now.

Sarah Grace uh first came to Catalyst around a year ago.

From the beginning, she was eager to grow in her faith and get involved.

She made a personal decision to be baptized alone not long after attending and has stayed consistently connected to the church ever since.

Um she didn’t just show up on Sundays, she came during the week as well, asked questions, served, invited others, including her boyfriend at the time and clearly found a place where she felt at home throughout the past year.

Um and even through the challenges of this year, uh she has continued to attend services regularly.

She and her family often travel over an hour just to be with us.

I’ve spoken and prayed with Sarah Grace many times throughout this season.

Her commitment to staying grounded in her faith and connected to a healthy community has remained steady.

Uh she’s even called from jail multiple times so I could pray with her.

Her father has also become an active part of the church.

He was baptized recently and he still comes to services faithfully.

If it’s possible uh and the court sees fit to grant Sarah Grace Bond, we would gladly continue to walk alongside her as a church.

We believe having her with her family and church community is an important part of her support system.

We’re committed to loving her well, encouraging her, and helping her continue on a positive path.

Next came Caitlyn O’Keefe, the woman who took Sarah in after the tragedy, who saw her everyday, who knew her routines, her habits, her behavior in the aftermath.

>> Did you have any disciplinary problems or any type of issues with Sarah while she was at your house? >> Not even one, honestly.

Like, I’ve had some teenagers of one that gave me a hard time.

And Sarah was a pleasure.

She was easy.

>> O’Keeffe testified, “I’ve seen no indication that this girl could do what she’s accused of.

She’s been nothing but kind and cooperative.

She helps with dinner, plays with the younger kids, does her school work.

She seems like any other teenager going through a terrible tragedy.

The testimony seemed sincere, heartfelt.

O’Keeffe genuinely believed in Sarah’s innocence, saw no warning signs, no red flags, nothing that suggested violence or deception.

Other witnesses echoed similar sentiments.

Teachers, friends, family members all describe a good kid.

Someone who made mistakes maybe, but nothing violent, nothing murderous.

A normal teenager may be troubled by her family situation, maybe acting out sometimes, but not a killer.

A teacher testified about Sarah’s classroom behavior, quiet, attentive, turned in assignments on time, participated in discussions, helped other students, never any disciplinary issues, never any concerning behavior.

A friend testified about their relationship.

Years of friendship, sleepovers, study sessions, normal teenage girl stuff, shopping, movies, social media, nothing raised concerns.

Sarah seemed normal, happy even, at least on the surface.

Sarah’s defense was building momentum.

The judge listened intently, taking notes, considering every word of testimony.

The defense table showed cautious optimism.

Maybe this would work.

Maybe a bond would be granted.

That’s when the prosecution revealed something that would change everything.

The courtroom’s entire tone shifted when Kim Bowling took the stand.

James’ sister, the victim’s family, is speaking.

Not character witnesses for the defense, but voices for the dead.

My name is Kim Bolley and I’m Jamie’s sister.

I want to thank you for giving me the opportunity to speak today since this tragic day.

My brother Jamie and his wife Christian were taken from us.

I have become their voice as they no longer have one.

She struggled to speak.

Her voice broke every few words.

Tears streaming.

Real visceral grief.

The kind you can’t fake.

The kind that comes from genuine loss.

>> I would like to share how this brutal tragedy has affected ink.

I not only lost my brother but also my sister-in-law in the most horrific horrific way imaginable.

Every night I lie awake unable to sleep, haunted by the thought of what my brother Jamie and Chris have experienced in those final moments.

with the possibility that they were awake when the defendant entered their room with a gun [laughter] and I imagine her imagine their terror in their final breasts.

>> According to court testimony, Bowling described how her brother’s murder had devastated their family.

How would his children grow up without a father? How birthdays and holidays would be forever marked by his absence? How his mother lost a son? how their entire world had been destroyed in one violent act.

She talked about James as a person, not just a victim.

A brother who called her weakly, an uncle who spoiled his nieces and nephews, a man who fought so hard to stay alive despite his failing heart, who endured surgery and pain and medical interventions, who wanted to live, to see his kids grow up, to get that heart transplant, to have more time.

With all of this in mind, I am deeply concerned about Jay’s safety should the defendant be released on bond.

>> She begged the judge to deny Bond to keep Sarah locked up to protect the community to ensure justice.

Her voice grew stronger as she spoke, anger mixing with grief.

Don’t let her out.

Bowling testified, “Please, for my brother, for Kristen, for those babies she left behind, for Jaye who found them, who will carry that image forever.” for bowling.

There was no doubt.

Sarah killed her parents.

The evidence was clear.

Justice demanded she remain behind bars.

No second chances, no bond, no release back into society.

But perhaps the most heart-wrenching testimony came from James’ 12-year-old son, too young to testify for himself.

His statement was written out, read aloud by family friend Kelly Brown.

>> My name is Jaden Brock, and I am 12 years old.

I wanted to talk today because my dad and stepmom [clears throat] was shot and killed.

I miss him every day.

What makes me more sad is I trusted Sarah and I loved her like a sister.

Why would she do this to me? And why would she hurt everyone like this? I don’t understand why someone would do this, but I know it is not right.

>> Nightmares, fear, a childhood shattered by violence.

Sarah’s actions had destroyed lives, young and old alike.

The ripple effects are spreading through entire families, through a community.

Remember Sarah’s confident smile from the beginning? That smile was gone now, completely vanished.

She stared down at the defense table, wouldn’t make eye contact with anyone.

Sarah’s defense attempted to salvage the situation.

They argued she was a child, a teenager, making terrible decisions under terrible circumstances.

She needed treatment, not prison.

Rehabilitation, not punishment.

So, what we have here um with Sarah Grace is that she has absolutely no criminal history and is therefore um not a risk to the community and not a risk to reaffend.

listening to the witnesses here.

Um, if I weigh these witnesses testimonies and I weigh what I hear today, um, I believe those closest, uh, and I say closest, um, in family relationship expressed that they had vast concerns that she would have the ability to flee, uh, that she would be a danger to the community, uh, that she would be a danger to them.

that she would be pose a significant risk of intimidating or actually I think the state steered away from intimidating or influencing or manipulating witnesses.

By finding that I find the state has met their burden today by preponderance of the evidence and Miss um Miss Patrick um because of that I’m bound by the law and I do not believe that you would be a proper candidate for bond at this time.

>> After hearing all the testimony the judge reached his decision.

Bond denied.

Sarah would remain in Carol County Jail.

No release, no house arrest, no ankle monitor, full detention until trial.

The charges escalated two counts each of malice murder, felony murder, aggravated assault, and possession of a firearm during commission of a felony.

Eight counts total.

Defense claimed mental health issues, diminished capacity, a troubled teenager who snapped under pressure.

She needed help, not condemnation.

Prosecution pointed to the Tik Tok messages, the planning evident in disposing of the weapon, the calculated behavior afterward.

This wasn’t a momentary lapse.

This was deliberate.

The contrast was stark.

Two completely different versions of the same person.

One painted a victim of circumstances.

The other a calculated killer.

Remember those text messages to true crime influencers? Prosecutors argued they demonstrated full awareness, understanding of her actions, comprehension of consequences.

She knew exactly what she was doing when she reached out.

Defense claimed she was processing grief, seeking understanding through familiar channels.

Evidence suggested she was managing her public image, controlling the narrative, attempting to shape how people viewed the case before it even went to trial.

Prosecutors had one more piece of evidence they hadn’t revealed yet.

Something was discovered during the forensic analysis of Sarah’s devices.

Details remain sealed, protected until trial, but sources close to the investigation suggest it’s damaging, very damaging.

Prosecutors stated investigations remain active.

More evidence is yet to be revealed.

Forensic analysis continues.

According to court filings, additional arrests may be made in connection with these murders.