“She Was 18 and Nine Months Pregnant. None of Them Survived.”.5929
December 26 arrived quietly, carrying the weight of two years.
For most people, it was just another winter day after Christmas.
For two families in San Antonio, it marked an anniversary that never fades.
Two years earlier, Savanah Nicole Soto and Matthew Guerra were found.
Not alive, not waiting, not lost.
But gone.
Savanah was eighteen years old.
She was nine months pregnant and days away from giving birth.
Her future was supposed to begin, not end.
Matthew Guerra was twenty-two.
He was preparing to become a father.
He was building a life alongside someone he loved.
They disappeared on December 22, 2023.
Savanah failed to show up for her scheduled induction.
That silence set everything in motion.
Families waited.
Phones rang unanswered.
Worry grew heavier by the hour.
Four days later, on December 26, the waiting ended.
Their bodies were found inside Matthew’s parked car.
The location was an apartment complex on the Northwest Side of San Antonio.
Law enforcement quickly confirmed what no one wanted to hear.
Both Savanah and Matthew had been shot to death.
Savanah’s unborn child had also died.
Three lives were gone.
One family never got to meet a baby they had already named.
Another lost a son who would never come home.
Investigators believe the killings did not happen where the car was found.
They say the couple was murdered elsewhere.
Their bodies were moved afterward.
That detail changed everything.
It suggested planning, not panic.
It suggested help, not isolation.
Surveillance footage became the key.
Cameras captured two vehicles near the scene shortly before the discovery.
One was the victims’ car.
The other was a dark pickup truck.
That truck would lead investigators closer to the truth.
Frame by frame, the story began to unfold.
Police traced the truck to its owner, Ramon Preciado.
From there, the investigation widened.
What followed would shock the community.
Ramon’s nineteen-year-old son, Christopher Preciado, was arrested.
He was charged with capital murder involving multiple victims.
The charges included abuse of a corpse and concealment.
Investigators allege Christopher shot Savanah and Matthew.
They believe it happened during a drug deal gone wrong.
A moment that destroyed multiple families forever.
But the case did not stop there.
Authorities allege that after the killings, help arrived.
And that help came from within the family.
Ramon Preciado, fifty-three, was arrested.
He was charged with abuse of a corpse and tampering with evidence.
Police say he helped move the bodies.
Myrta Romanos was also arrested.
She was Christopher’s stepmother and Ramon’s wife.
She lived in the same home as both men.
Authorities charged her with abuse of a corpse and tampering with evidence.
They alleged the gun used belonged to her.
They said she tried to hide it during a search.
Surveillance footage placed her near key moments.
Investigators believed she played a role after the murders.
But the case took another turn.
In November 2025, a judge dismissed all charges against Myrta Romanos.
Prosecutors were not ready for trial.
Key forensic evidence had not been completed in time.
The dismissal did not equal innocence.
The state may re-file charges once DNA and fingerprint testing is complete.
For families, it felt like another delay in an already painful process.
Ramon Preciado posted bond in February 2025.
The amount was four hundred and fifty thousand dollars.
He was released while awaiting trial.
His case remains tied to his son’s.
Delays continue as proceedings are coordinated.
Justice moves slowly.
Christopher Preciado remains in jail.
His bond is set at one million dollars.
He is scheduled for trial on February 2, 2026.
Prosecutors reviewed the case carefully.
They declined to seek the death penalty.
If convicted, Christopher faces life without parole.
For some family members, that decision cut deep.
Many had publicly supported the death penalty.
They felt the crime warranted the harshest punishment.
Alongside the criminal case, a civil battle began.
The families of Soto and Guerra filed a lawsuit.
They are seeking over one million dollars in damages.
The lawsuit names the Preciado family.
It alleges responsibility for the deaths and suffering caused.
It is another attempt to find accountability.
Money cannot replace lives.
It cannot bring back a mother who never got to hold her baby.
But it can acknowledge harm.
Two years later, grief remains sharp.
Time has not softened it.
It has only changed its shape.
Savanah is remembered as young and hopeful.
She was excited to become a mother.
Her pregnancy was close to its end.
Matthew is remembered as devoted.
Friends say he was ready for fatherhood.
He wanted to protect his family.
Their unborn child never had a chance to breathe.
Never had a first cry.
Never had a name spoken aloud by the world.
Three lives were erased in one act of violence.
The ripple effects continue outward.
Parents, siblings, and loved ones carry the weight.
Families have spoken publicly about frustration.
They say justice feels slow and incomplete.
Every delay reopens wounds.
Surveillance footage solved part of the mystery.
But it did not bring peace.
It only showed how close they were to being saved.
Anniversaries like December 26 bring everything back.
The headlines.
The court dates.
The what-ifs.
The silence of a nursery that was never used.
The future that never arrived.
This case is not just about crime.
It is about youth, love, and loss.
It is about a baby who never made it into the world.
As trials approach, families wait again.
They wait for verdicts.
They wait for closure that may never fully come.
Two years later, Savanah and Matthew are still remembered.
Their names are still spoken.
Their story is not finished.
Justice may come slowly.
But memory does not fade.
And neither does the demand for answers.
From a Rope to Loving Arms: Marco’s Journey of Survival.5933
In the spring of 2019, the call came in quietly, the way most tragedies do.
A wounded dog had been reported, tied to a fence somewhere in St. Louis, left out in the open.
The volunteers at Stray Rescue of St. Louis felt that familiar tightening in their chests as they gathered their gear and headed out.
They had no idea what they were about to see.
When they arrived, the world seemed to stop for a moment.
What was tied to that fence barely resembled a dog at all.
His body was still, his breathing shallow, his eyes dulled by pain and exhaustion.
His face was swollen to nearly five times its normal size.
The sun beat down on him mercilessly.
Open wounds covered his body, untreated, inflamed, and infected.
Flies hovered close, drawn to suffering that had gone unnoticed for days.
He had been waiting.
The volunteers moved quickly, but gently.
They spoke to him softly, even though they weren’t sure he could hear them.
Somewhere beneath the swelling and infection, there was still a soul listening.
They would later name him Marco.
Marco had been tied there for days.
No food.
No water.
No mercy.
When the rescue team approached, his tail tried to move.
His body wanted to respond, to show gratitude, but the pain was too much.
Still, his eyes followed them, pleading without words.
He wanted to live.
As they cut the rope from the fence, Marco collapsed into their arms.
He didn’t resist.
He didn’t growl or flinch.
He trusted them instantly.
They rushed him straight to the Stray Rescue animal hospital.
The drive felt endless, every bump in the road another test of Marco’s will to survive.
Hands stayed on him the entire way, whispering promises they hoped they could keep.
“Hang on,” they told him.
At the clinic, the reality of his condition became painfully clear.
Marco’s entire body was riddled with infection.
He was septic, his organs fighting a battle they were close to losing.
He was dying.
IV lines were placed.
Antibiotics flowed steadily into his fragile body.
Blood work confirmed what everyone feared — he was hanging on by a thread.
But he didn’t give up.
Days turned into weeks.
Weeks stretched into months.
Marco lived in that clinic, surrounded by machines, medication, and constant care.
He became part of the rhythm there.
Staff members learned his expressions.
Volunteers memorized the way his ears shifted when he heard a familiar voice.
Despite everything that had been done to him, he leaned into human touch.
That was the part that broke them.
There was evidence suggesting Marco had been used in dog fighting.
The scars, the placement of wounds, the severity of injuries all pointed to cruelty inflicted on purpose.
Someone had taught him pain, and then abandoned him when he was no longer useful.
Yet Marco still loved.
When nurses came into the room, he wagged what strength he had.
When volunteers sat beside him, he pressed his swollen face into their hands.
He did not recoil.
He did not hate.
Slowly, almost imperceptibly at first, the swelling began to go down.
The infection started to respond to treatment.
Marco’s body, exhausted but determined, began to heal.
Hope crept back in.
As the weeks passed, something remarkable happened.
Beneath the damage, Marco’s true face began to emerge.
His eyes became clearer, brighter, alive.
He was beautiful.
Staff members watched in awe as his personality surfaced.
He was gentle.
He was affectionate.
He was endlessly forgiving.
Months after arriving at the clinic barely alive, Marco was declared stable.
He no longer needed constant IV support.
He could walk, eat, and rest without machines humming beside him.
He had survived.
The day Marco left the clinic was emotional.
Everyone who had cared for him lined up to say goodbye.
There were tears, hugs, and whispered wishes for a future he had earned.
That future began in foster care.
Katie became Marco’s foster mom.
She welcomed him into her home knowing his past, knowing his scars, knowing the responsibility.
What she didn’t know was how quickly he would become family.
He claimed her heart immediately.
Marco settled into home life as if he had always belonged there.
He learned routines, discovered toys, and explored comfort with curiosity.
The trauma of his past did not define his present.
He chose joy.
It didn’t take long for Katie to realize she couldn’t let him go.
Fostering turned into forever.
Marco was officially home.
And he knew it.
Today, Marco lives a life filled with safety and love.
He steals blankets before bedtime like it’s his job.
He monitors the neighborhood from his favorite bay window.
He takes his role seriously.
He is silly and sweet.
Smart and protective.
Confident in a way that only comes from knowing you are finally safe.
He is spoiled — proudly so.
The dog who once sat tied to a fence, swollen beyond recognition, now sleeps on soft beds.
The dog who waited days in the sun now waits for treats in the kitchen.
The dog who survived unimaginable cruelty now trusts without hesitation.
Marco chose healing.
His story is not just one of rescue.
It is a story of resilience.
A reminder that even the most broken souls can still believe in goodness.
He never forgot how to love.
Stray Rescue of St. Louis didn’t just save a dog that day.
They protected a spirit that refused to die.
They gave Marco the chance to become who he was always meant to be.
And he took it.
Marco’s past no longer defines him.
His scars tell a story, but they do not own it.
His life now is full, warm, and safe.
Exactly as it should be.
From a fence to a family.
From suffering to safety.
From silence to joy.
Marco made it home.