“That’s scary behavior,” said Gina Schafer, who lives in Forge Heights. “If they don’t have any empathy and they’re gonna hurt defenseless animals, you know, what’s next? More animals? People? It’s just really horrific.”

All that remained on Bangert Avenue on Friday was a dark, arching mark seared into the pavement. Up the street, about 100 feet away, was a burnt, white and blue gardening glove and closer to the mess was a singed cardboard box. Neighbors who spoke to The Baltimore Sun said Baltimore County Police “weren’t treating it as a crime scene.”

“We’re just really concerned because obviously, this was heinous,” said another neighborhood resident, Tiffany Doxanas.

Police spokesperson Trae Corbin said officers responded to a “hazardous condition” in Perry Hall and that Thursday’s incident is under investigation. When asked whether it was being considered a crime, Corbin said, “That will be determined once the investigation progresses.”

Dale Groth, who moved into Forge Heights in May, said he left for work Thursday around 5:30 a.m., hoping to beat rush-hour traffic near the BWI Airport.

It was dark out, so when he drove past the deer, he said he “didn’t think much of it” — perhaps it was roadkill, or maybe a bag.

A few “concerned neighbors,” including Doxanas’ teenaged son Caden, told Groth what’d happened. He said that the news upset his wife, who worried about the three deer they’d noticed living behind their house: a mom and two babies, he said.

“I get it,” Groth said of everyone’s concern. “It was weird.”

Caden Doxanas said Friday that he and a friend had been knocking on doors around, looking for any information they could find. Bits of rope, found near the fawn’s body, were left on the street, he said. They’d also found the burnt glove and box. But none of the nearby security or doorbell cameras caught anything.

The closest thing the 17-year-old found to a lead was a torn-up Wawa receipt. He told The Sun he drove to the convenience store to see if they would check security cameras, but was turned away.

“I’ve never seen anything like this, and I just don’t know what to do,” Caden Doxanas said.

The teenager, his mother and two neighbors said Friday that they’d never seen anything like the burnt fawn in their wooded neighborhood, where they said a lot of families and children live.

When asked whether he now felt uncomfortable around Forge Heights, Caden Doxanas said he didn’t.

“I trust myself, and I still trust the people around me,” he said.

Baltimore County Police are asking anyone with information about the fawn to call 410-887-4636.

Have a news tip? Contact Luke Parker at lparker@baltsun.com, 410-725-6214, on X as @lparkernews or on Signal as @parkerluke.34.

Employees with criminal records and limited job options are particularly at risk, said the family’s attorney, Thiru Vignarajah.

“How a person feels like they can’t leave can depend on a lot of things,” Vignarajah, said. “But between knowing that they can’t complain, knowing that they can’t find another job, knowing that they risk being returned to prison if they lose this job, that combination of factors has too many people at DPW reporting that this agency is run like a slave ship.”

Standing outside City Hall beneath a bank of trees Thursday afternoon, Vignarajah told reporters that Silver’s family has given the city “notice” of their intent to file a federal civil rights lawsuit. That step could “open lines of communication” with Baltimore officials, he said, but if a resolution cannot be reached, a lawsuit can be expected in “a matter of a couple of months.”

Vignarajah said the family wants the city to ensure this never happens to another Public Works employee and is seeking a “measure of compensation” for the family’s loss.

“We’re going to give the city solicitor and her colleagues an opportunity to digest what we’ve shared with them, to reflect on the state of affairs, and perhaps to communicate what they may or may not be prepared to do,” Vignarajah said.

In a statement to The Baltimore Sun on Thursday, the Department of Public Works said it cannot comment on pending legal matters but recognizes and respects “the family’s right to pursue any legal action they believe is appropriate.”

However, department officials said they have “invested significantly in workplace safety” over the last year, implementing designated break times, heat monitoring, training opportunities and a revised start time to avoid warmer temperatures later in the day.

“During this process, we’ve maintained ongoing conversations with our crews, city stakeholders, and union representatives,” the statement read. “We’ve listened, we’ve reflected, and we’ve acted, examining our policies and investing in our people.”

Thursday’s press conference took place almost one year after Silver’s death on Aug. 2, partway through his shift. According to a 23-page report from the city’s inspector general, Silver had been experiencing heat-related symptoms for a few days at that point but was worried he’d be reported to management for complaining, his coworker Travis Christian told investigators.

Vignarajah said, “It’s been a hard year” for Silver’s family, though they’ve taken some comfort knowing “DPW seems more awake today than they have in the last five years.”

“But paying attention is the absolute bare minimum of doing justice,” the lawyer said, “and this lawsuit is meant to force DPW and the City of Baltimore to reckon with the reality that it has ignored deliberately for years.”

The four-page “Notice of Litigation” sent to Baltimore City Solicitor Ebony Thompson on Thursday was delivered on behalf of Silver’s family and Christian, who worked with Silver on the day he died and had collapsed from heat exhaustion himself.

The lawyer said it included only “a sliver” of the evidence that a legal complaint would — descriptions of “dangerous, subhuman conditions” and a system without reprieve or escape.

According to the notice, water and toilet paper were locked up and required permission from a supervisor to access. And if someone were to complain, they could be assigned to more dangerous routes or to trucks without air conditioning — the route Silver took the day he died had more than 1,150 pickup stops, approximately 200 more stops than industry standards, the inspector general report states.

For those with a criminal history, quitting was not an option, Vignarajah said. The job, he said, was a condition of probation for many.

“Why didn’t you just walk away? Why didn’t you quit? Why didn’t you apply for another job? The answer is they don’t have the same choices that so many others have,” he said.

Have a news tip? Contact Luke Parker at lparker@baltsun.com, 410-725-6214, on X as @lparkernews or on Signal as @parkerluke.34.

“We’re not just here for a visit,” Scott said, referencing neighborhoods like Brooklyn, Westport and Curtis Bay, “but to deliver funding and resources.”

The mayor joined several political, law enforcement and community partners Wednesday morning in Cherry Hill to announce the expansion of the Group Violence Reduction Strategy (GVRS) into the police department’s Southern District.

The strategy, which relies on neighborhood advocates to identify and reach those most at risk of committing or falling victim to gun violence, has been credited by city officials with a historic drop-off in shootings as Baltimore eyes a lower homicide rate for the third year in a row.

Since its launch in early 2022, GVRS has connected more than 250 high-risk individuals to resources, including a life coaching program for youths, and played a role in over 410 arrests, according to the mayor. On Wednesday, leaders said its focus on targeted intervention is placing law enforcement in front of violence and alongside the communities it serves.

“We’re no longer reacting to violence. We are proactively dismantling it,” said Deputy State’s Attorney Angela Galeano. “The results speak for themselves: fewer guns, fewer victims and stronger communities. And we’re just getting started.”

Scott said GVRS now operates in five of the city’s nine police districts: Southern, Central, Eastern, Western and Southwestern.

The full move to Southern, however, represented “a continuation and not the start of our work here,” Scott said.

Both the mayor and Baltimore Police Commissioner Richard Worley cited the arrest of “a violent group” in Curtis Bay earlier this year. The investigation that led to that arrest, they said, was based on information gathered through GVRS operations in Western District.

Expanding the strategy, Worley said, “is about disrupting the systems that were inflicting violence and harm and trauma in the neighborhoods.”

“We sent a clear message,” the commissioner said, “violence will not be tolerated. But we know enforcement alone is not enough.”

Officials hoped to make GVRS citywide by the end of 2024. Where it has been implemented to this point, Scott said, have been “data-driven” decisions, following current trends and signs of community violence.

The mayor said the city will not expand GVRS into a new area until those it already serves are stabilized.

“We’re going to continue to operate that way, because we have been successful in doing it the right way and sometimes, the right way isn’t fast,” Scott said.

Daniel Webster, a violence prevention expert at the Johns Hopkins Bloomberg School of Public Health, said the Scott administration is “going about [GVRS] in a methodical way.”

What makes GVRS work in 2025 over past attempts in 1999 and 2014, he said, is a better incorporation of resources aimed at changing behavior, instead of investing only in those that enforce the law.

When authorities and community partners identify a high-risk person, they will be sent letters from Scott saying, “We know who you are. We know what you do. We want you to stay alive for you and your family. But you cannot do that if you continue doing the things that you’re doing.”

At that point, individuals will have the chance to reach out for help or face investigation and, potentially, arrest.

“We don’t just prosecute,” Galeano said. “We work with our partners, as Mayor Scott emphasized, to prevent, to rehabilitate, to build trust, and we make it clear in Baltimore, safety is everyone’s business and accountability is everyone’s responsibility.”

A successful reduction strategy requires not only making those contacts, but also being able to support someone’s decision to change, Webster said. And to do that requires building trust and ensuring the right people, advocates and organizations are on the ground.

“The problem is too complicated and challenging to think that you can make a change [without] an intensive effort … To do it right, you can’t shortcut things,” Webster said.

GVRP’s expansion into the Southern District also represents both a financial commitment and conceptual endorsement from the city, which will be forced to navigate its downtrends in violence and recidivism through a shift in funding priorities by the Trump Administration.

Earlier this year, the Department of Justice cancelled nearly $200 million in active grants to violence prevention programs and initiatives. Raco, one nonviolence intervention group operating in the city, lost more than $1 million for its work in Baltimore because its programming “no longer effectuates Department priorities,” according to an April notice from the department.

Scott stated that the Justice Department cuts will not impact the GVRS and that he trusts Maryland’s congressional delegation, which he noted secured a $1.2 million earmark for GVRS in the next fiscal year, to continue supporting the city’s efforts.

“We’re always going to be concerned about what could happen,” Scott said, “but it’s also why we set this up this way, that it’s not solely reliant on just one source of funding … so that we can continue through trying times like the ones that we’re in now.”

Have a news tip? Contact Luke Parker at lparker@baltsun.com, 410-725-6214, on X as @lparkernews or on Signal as @parkerluke.34.

Appearing virtually in Towson District Court, Kevin Ahn stood at the center of a blue-taped square from the Baltimore County Detention Center, about one mile away. Two corrections officers stood between him and the door. Otherwise, he was alone, his face barely perceptible on the television monitor.

When asked whether he understood what was happening, Ahn remained silent. When a public defender said he’d refused their services, he stayed quiet. But when Baltimore County District Judge Michael Siri said there “may be a competency issue,” Ahn spoke up. The judge quickly asked him to repeat himself.

“I know my amendments,” Ahn said, “all of them.”

Ahn was extradited from Pennsylvania to Maryland on Friday to face two counts of both first-degree murder and first-degree assault; he was not charged in his mother’s death.

According to charging documents, on March 24, Ahn showed up at his sister’s home in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania, driving his mother’s white Toyota SUV. The siblings were estranged, and Ahn was “acting unusual and [speaking] gibberish,” police said.

The sister called authorities when she saw a human leg in the backseat, covered underneath a pile of clothes.

Detectives said a note left on the Toyota’s dashboard read, “[Sister], Mom is in Car. I’m sorry please give her a funeral. My brain is fried. My Mom lied, she gave me fake money from the N.A. So did my employers. I lost my mind, forgive me. Please call my sister.” It ended with a phone number.

Baltimore County Police conducting a wellness check on the mother’s home in Owings Mills found the bodies of 83-year-old Sun Tok Lim and 69-year-old In Yong Kim inside. Detectives wrote that “it was immediately apparent” that their bodies “had been staged” to look like a suicide.

Authorities reported that Lim lived with Hyun Ahn, the defendant’s mother; and Kim was Lim’s ex-husband. Relatives told police that, while the couple had separated, he’d still help around the house.

Though Kevin Ahn was only charged for Lim and Kim’s deaths, prosecutor Michael Fuller said he “100%” believes Kevin Ahn was responsible for his mother’s death, as well.

If Kevin Ahn’s competency is found lacking, he may be ordered directly to a mental health treatment facility. Should his case make it to trial, he may plead that he is not criminally responsible — similar to an insanity defense.

A Pennsylvania woman named Missi, who said she dated Ahn briefly in 2021, told The Baltimore Sun that she was shocked to learn about the case against him.

Asking to use only her first name to avoid harassment, Missi said Ahn would call his mother every day or every other day to check in. From her perspective, they had “a very good relationship.”

In a phone interview, Missi said Ahn had been sober for about a year when they met.

Ahn’s criminal record in Pennsylvania includes disorderly conduct, mischief and harassment charges. But it does not directly reference substance abuse, with the exception of two cases involving “small” amounts of marijuana for “personal use.”

Missi described Kevin Ahn as “kindhearted.”

“He never seemed like the type to actually hurt somebody, she said.

Fuller said a third Maryland murder charge may be brought if it’s determined the mother’s death took place in the state.

Speaking outside the district court, Fuller said he expects Kevin Ahn to be indicted early next month.

Monday’s hearing was Kevin Ahn’s first in a Maryland courtroom.

The 31-year-old is listed as “homeless” in court records. The abuse of corpse charge he faced in Pennsylvania at the time of his arrest, related to his mother’s body, was dropped so the Baltimore County murder case could proceed.

The investigation into Hyun Ahn’s death is ongoing in Pennsylvania, Fuller said. Investigators have not said where they believe Hyun Ahn died.

By the time Monday’s hearing took place, Kevin Ahn had been in custody for almost four months. His behavior in court and with authorities — he has refused to comply with a DNA investigation, the prosecutor said — concerned the judge.

Both Fuller, the prosecutor, and public defender Alex Rhodes, who said Ahn had spoken only one sentence to her, agreed on Monday that competency was an issue.

Siri tried asking Ahn several questions, and the defendant stayed still, standing in the square, for most of them.

At one point, Ahn asked the judge if he could refuse to participate in the evaluation, and more than once, he said he was preserving his right to remain silent and his freedom of speech.

“You guys do what you do, and I’ll just exist,” he said.

Ahn can still be indicted while the court-ordered evaluation takes place, according to Fuller. Still, his competency will have to be restored before his criminal case can proceed.

Have a news tip? Contact Luke Parker at lparker@baltsun.com, 410-725-6214, on X as @lparkernews or on Signal as @parkerluke.34.

“This lawsuit is about payment, not care,” Jason Rottman, CEO of Maryland Physicians Care, wrote in a statement Thursday to The Baltimore Sun.

UMMS sued Maryland Physicians Care last month in Baltimore City Circuit Court, claiming the organization failed to reimburse services given to more than 15,000 lower-income patients. According to their complaint, those patients received high-cost emergency treatment for gunshot wounds, strokes and heart attacks, among other illnesses and medical conditions.

The healthcare system, which generated over $5 billion in fiscal year 2023, accused Maryland Physicians Care of rejecting more claims than any of its fellow Medicaid management care companies. In doing so, UMMS said Maryland Physicians Care risks driving “up the cost of care for everyone.”

In their first legal response to the lawsuit on Thursday, Maryland Physicians Care brought the case to federal court and stated that, of the alleged counts — Breach of Contract, Unjust Enrichment, Declaratory Relief, and Injunctive Relief — only the first has sufficient claims or evidence to litigate.

“MPC exists to serve our community by delivering high-quality, value-driven, and affordable care that improves health outcomes for our members,” Rottman said. “Every decision we make at MPC is grounded in a commitment to the dignity and well-being of the people we serve.”

According to court documents, UMMS and Maryland Physicians Care entered into a contractual partnership in 2018. In separate statements to The Sun, both entities have referred to discussions about their disagreements but said they have either been broken off or have been unproductive.

UMMS spokesperson Michael Schwartzberg said Friday that their organization is “always eager” to work with partners and payers committed to providing medically necessary care.

“Unfortunately, our efforts over a 10-month period to engage [Maryland Physicians Care] in constructive dialogue about its claim denial practices were unsuccessful, leaving UMMS with no option but to file suit to recover what is owed to the System under its provider contract,” Schwartzberg said, adding UMMS is reviewing Thursday’s court filings.

Meanwhile, Rottman said Maryland Physicians Care has tried to “address the root causes” of UMMS overutilizing its emergency department, which they say has created “poorly coordinated care” and long wait times for patients.

“UMMS declined to work with MPC on this initiative,” Rottman said, “but MPC stands ready to continue those discussions and welcomes the opportunity to partner with UMMS in this area.”

According to Thursday’s filings, Maryland Physicians Care said it is responsible “for reimbursing certain ’emergency services.'” UMMS’ lawsuit, the Medicaid provider contends, is rooted in their “disagreeing with the reasons” claims have been denied.

“UMMS receives payment for claims, consistent with state and federal laws and regulations,” Rottman said. “Put bluntly, UMMS is now seeking more money than is appropriate. And, instead of continuing to talk through any potential disagreements, it decided to file a baseless lawsuit.”

The lawsuit, although involving a relatively small sum compared to the money it generates, is unique in that it pits a healthcare provider directly against an insurance provider in court.

Historically, hospitals or medical professionals across the state have sued patients directly over unpaid bills — more than 145,700 times in a 10-year period, according to one report.

Those lawsuits, the report stated, were over a median debt of less than $950.

Have a news tip? Contact Luke Parker at lparker@baltsun.com, 410-725-6214, on X as @lparkernews or on Signal as @parkerluke.34.

The fight, which injured two people, took place Wednesday evening in the front lobby area of the store, according to department spokesperson Joy Stewart.

The handgun that went off was being used to assault someone, police said, though it was unclear whether one of the injured children was grazed by a bullet or a piece of debris.

Authorities said Friday that the teenager faces attempted second-degree murder and first-degree assault charges, as well as handgun offenses.

The 16-year-old will be charged as an adult, police said, though the juvenile court will ultimately decide whether the case will move to the adult criminal court system.

Between Wednesday and Friday, the Walmart shooting at the Carroll Island Shopping Center in Bowleys Quarters led to eight arrests. Stewart said authorities are not looking for any more suspects at this time.

Eastside Councilman David Marks, who represents Bowleys Quarters and surrounding areas on the County Council, posted about the arrest shortly before the police department’s press release, saying the suspect was in custody at the Essex precinct.

“Bowleys Quarters is typically a very quiet community, so this has been a difficult past few days,” Marks said in a phone call. “And those responsible should be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.”

Have a news tip? Contact Luke Parker at lparker@baltsun.com, 410-725-6214, on X as @lparkernews or on Signal as @parkerluke.34.

In February, Davonte Hamlett was found guilty of the murder of Sherman Anderson and the attempted murder of a second man after a five-day trial in Baltimore City Circuit Court.

On May 5, 2024, authorities found both men shot at a Carroll Fuel station off of Reisterstown Road in West Baltimore. Assistant State’s Attorney Elizabeth Stock said they’d pulled up to a pump shortly after midnight, and Anderson, 25, went inside the store to pay for gas.

Anderson was stuck in line for several minutes behind a large group of men who were loitering in the store, according to the prosecutor. Things escalated when he stepped in front of them, she said.

It was unclear whether there was an argument or “words” shared, but Stock said there was “no confrontation … from Mr. Anderson at all.”

Hamlett, who the state said was with the group, grabbed a gun and shot Anderson after he walked out of the store, and the other man as he ran away.

Stock said what happened to the two men last year is “what I fear at midnight every single day.”

Several months after his conviction, Hamlett returned to the courtroom Wednesday, the sound of his shackles preceding his entrance, where Cheryl Hill, Anderson’s mother, confronted him.

“How can you live with yourself knowing that you took my son’s life away?” she asked him.

Since her “most amazing son” died, however, Hill said she’s learned how to forgive Hamlett and that she still prays his mother doesn’t end up in the position she was forced into.

Public defender Gregory Fischer told the court that his client’s age “cannot be disentangled” from his actions, saying as a young adult — 20 years old at the time of the shooting — Hamlett was still as susceptible to influence and psychological damage as a juvenile.

Fischer said his client grew up with his mother and siblings and that while they provided him with a “stable sense of security,” Hamlett’s feelings of abandonment by his father persisted. Combined with his family’s move to a community and exposure to guns and neighborhood disputes, Hamlett lost interest in school and began abusing drugs.

According to the state, Hamlett had been released from incarceration less than a month before the Carroll Fuel shooting. He was convicted and imprisoned over a 2023 robbery against an elderly man, Stock said.

But Fischer, who did not immediately respond to a request for comment, said the conditions that brought Hamlett to court Wednesday are treatable. His client, he argued, is not “irredeemable.”

Baltimore Circuit Judge Jennifer B. Schiffer said she wondered how the “level of violence” displayed in the crimes could be the result of someone feeling disrespected at a gas station.

After listening to Fischer and learning about the defendant’s past, however, the judge said she would recommend Hamlett to the maximum-security clinical facility, the Patuxent Institution.

Located in Jessup, Patuxent’s programs seek to develop “pro-social” behavior in offenders with severe character and mental health disorders, according to the Department of Public Safety and Correctional Services.

Despite the prosecution’s insistence that Hamlett cannot abide by structure or rules, the judge said, “The ball is in his court … I will keep an open mind.”

Hamlett was one of three people sentenced in Baltimore City murder cases Wednesday, and the first of two ordered to serve life in prison.

In a statement, Baltimore City State’s Attorney Ivan Bates said the murders — one a double shooting outside a convenience store and the other a mother’s assault against her infant daughter — reflect “the devastating impact of gun violence and senseless acts of brutality in our communities.”

Wednesday’s sentences, he said, “send a clear message to perpetrators of violence that neither residents nor our office will tolerate that behavior in Baltimore.”

According to the statement, there have been 32 guilty outcomes for violent offenders in 2025.

Have a news tip? Contact Luke Parker at lparker@baltsun.com, 410-725-6214, on X as @lparkernews or on Signal as @parkerluke.34.

Daquan Woodard, 22, was found guilty on two counts of first-degree murder, two counts of firearm use in a felony or violent crime, illegal possession of regulated firearm and concealing a dangerous weapon in a Baltimore City circuit court after shooting and killing 32-year-old Ricardo Brooks-Watters and 40-year-old Odell Curtis on Feb. 7, 2024.

As Judge Jennifer B. Schiffer reread the sentence aloud to the courtroom, a physical altercation broke out between a sheriff’s deputy and a member of Woodard’s friends and family. Sheriff’s deputies and other members of Woodard’s friends and family attempted to intervene, further escalating the conflict and leading to benches being shoved and a dogpile on the floor.

One arrest was made for assaulting a law enforcement officer, according to Baltimore City’s Sheriff’s Office. One deputy sought medical assistance on a minor injury “as a precaution.”

The group of family and friends were visibly distressed as the sentence was read aloud prior to the incident. When the altercation broke out, Schiffer, staff and Woodard all left the court room.

The double homicide of Curtis and Brooks-Watters was on video, and Schiffer said Wednesday that anyone watching the security footage as the double shooting unfolds would be hard-pressed not to beg Woodard to stop.

“While so many cases involve senseless violence, this case in particular is palpable because of the nature of the evidence,” she said. “It is as serious and as senseless as it gets.”

Prosecutor Amy Brown said the video showed Curtis in front of 7-Eleven on Feb. 7, 2024, with Woodard stalking. Curtis, who died two days before his 41st birthday, appeared annoyed before Woodard opened fire. Woodard then shot at Brooks-Watters, who was sitting in the passenger seat of a Dodge Charger.

“If he felt threatened, his assessment of that situation … just makes him a perpetual threat to society,” Brown said.

Both victims were taken to the Johns Hopkins Hospital, where Curtis was pronounced dead. Brooks-Watters died four days later on Feb. 11.

According to charging documents, Woodard wore all black on the night of the shooting along with a black Under Armour ski mask and a bright color silver chain. In a taped statement, Woodard admitted to shooting both victims.

Woodard was arrested in May 2024 and convicted following a four-day trial in February.

Family members of Brooks-Watters who spoke at the sentencing recalled how his death led to a lack of sleep and appetite and repeatedly asked Woodard: “For what?”

“I will never hate you because I don’t know you,” Brooks-Watters’ son wrote in a statement to the court. “But I hate what you did.”

Family members of Curtis who spoke remembered him as a cook, a dancer, a singer and “the definition of love.”

Brown, the prosecutor, noted Woodard’s two prior gun convictions, as well as possession of a homemade knife while incarcerated, fights with other prisoners and assault of a correctional officer.

Public defense attorney Maureen O’Leary said Woodard’s mother was 13 when she had him, and he was partially raised by his grandmother. She also pointed out how the group of family and friends in attendance at the sentencing is rare.

“I just want to say I love my family very much. That’s it,” Woodard said, addressing the court Wednesday.

O’Leary declined to comment on the sentencing or the altercation that followed.

Have a news tip? Contact Brendan Nordstrom at bnordstrom@baltsun.com or on X at @bnords03.

Baltimore County Police said Thursday that the children arrested were between the ages of 11 and 15. Police are searching for additional suspects in the case, department spokesperson Joy Stewart said, but it was unclear how many.

County officers responded to the 100 block of Carroll Island Road in Bowleys Quarters around 5:30 p.m. Wednesday following reports of gunfire, according to a press release. At the scene, they learned that a group of young people were fighting in the front lobby area when the firearm went off, Stewart said.

The firearm was being used to assault someone, according to the release. That person suffered injuries to the upper body, while a second person was injured to a lower extremity, police said.

It is not clear whether the second person’s injury was caused by a bullet or a piece of debris grazing the skin.

Sun reporter Mathew Schumer contributed to this article. 

Have a news tip? Contact Luke Parker at lparker@baltsun.com, 410-725-6214, on X as @lparkernews or on Signal as @parkerluke.34.

Aurielle Montgomery, who also turned 24 on Wednesday, walked into the downtown courtroom in a pink jumpsuit and shackles, with nearly two rows of family members seated behind her. Her former partner, the father of the murdered baby, and his family sat on the prosecution’s side.

Ralph Montgomery, the defendant’s father, told the judge he felt responsible for what happened to his granddaughter and said he understands the grief of the dead girl’s father.

But “there is no playbook for this” kind of situation, he said.

“I’ll always be here,” Ralph Montgomery said of his daughter, who teared up at his words, “but there has to be accountability.”

Reading from a prepared statement, Aurielle Montgomery thanked her family for staying by her side “no matter what.” She also recalled feeling “so ready” to be a mother at one time.

“Maybe I wasn’t,” she told the court.

For nearly a year, Montgomery resisted the charges against her, arguing she was not criminally responsible for her daughter’s death, the equivalent of an insanity plea in Maryland. She withdrew that claim in May, however, and pleaded guilty to second-degree murder.

When prosecutor Jesse Halvorsen said Montgomery told investigators she recalled “striking” the child, a young man slammed his hand down and stormed out of the room.

“My client has admitted her responsibility,” defense attorney Alex Leikus said in court.

Paramedics found Montgomery’s 1-year-old daughter “cold to the touch” in October 2022. An autopsy later revealed that the baby had suffered several broken bones, prosecutors said. Aurielle Montgomery had left her injured and unattended overnight, they added.

It was her new boyfriend, unrelated to the child, who called 911 the next afternoon, police said.

Leikus said in 2022 that Montgomery was a young, tired mother living in a basement with a man “she didn’t trust” and caught in a web of substance abuse and mental health problems. What happened to her daughter was the result of Montgomery reacting “horribly” to the pressures around her, the lawyer said.

Baltimore City Circuit Judge Jennifer B. Schiffer told Montgomery that every parent can understand being at their “wits’ end,” but said any frustration a mother or father experiences is trumped by their lifelong duty to protect their children.

“That’s your job as a parent,” Schiffer said. “She didn’t ask to be born.”

Tennille Byrd, the victim’s grandmother on her father’s side, said Wednesday that the young girl’s death “still hurts” their family, each in their own way.

“We try to support each other, but the grief is so huge we often feel torn apart,” she told the judge, explaining that while her granddaughter can never be brought back, she will have “some comfort to know justice will be served.”

Have a news tip? Contact Luke Parker at lparker@baltsun.com, 410-725-6214, on X as @lparkernews or on Signal as @parkerluke.34.