November 8, 2025 • 31 mins
Discover the shocking true crime story of Lila Corbin, an 18-year-old Kirkwood High School senior who was tragically murdered in April 2019 after running away with her obsessed substitute teacher, Evan Lathrop. This gripping true crime case reveals the dark secrets behind a forbidden teacher-student relationship, the investigation that uncovered digital evidence, surveillance footage, and Snapchat messages, and the shocking twist involving Lila’s pregnancy with her ex-boyfriend’s child. Follow the detailed timeline of police investigation, forensic evidence, arrest, trial, and sentencing, and hear how her family, including mother Kara Corbin, coped with the devastating loss. Tune in to learn about this Kirkwood, Missouri murder case, a story of obsession, betrayal, and the pursuit of justice that shook a quiet suburban community.
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Transcript
Episode Transcript
Available transcripts are automatically generated. Complete accuracy is not guaranteed.
Speaker 1 (00:00):
Kirkwood, Missouri. April twenty nineteen, the disappearance of eighteen year
old high school senior Leelah Corbin shocked the quiet, tree
lined streets of this Saint Louis suburb, a town where
people still left doors unlocked and waved at the mail carrier.
At first, it seemed like a teenage runaway story, a
young girl leaving home for love. But within weeks Kirkwood
(00:21):
would learn that this was no romance. It was a
crime built on obsession, lies, and betrayal. In April of
twenty nineteen, Leela Corbin was a familiar face in the
small suburb of Kirkwood, Missouri, a quiet community about twenty
minutes outside of Saint Louis. She was eighteen years old
and in her final semester at Kirkwood High School, where
(00:41):
the lawns were greening up after winter and seniors were
counting the days until graduation. Lel had already picked out
her prom dress, a pale blue gown she found on
clearance at Macy's, and talked about how she wanted to
paint a mural over the summer before heading to college.
Lel worked evenings at the Sonic Drive in on Manchester Road,
taking orders on roller skates and saving tips in a
(01:03):
Mason jar on her dresser. She hoped to buy a
used car, maybe a red Honda Civic, before moving away
for school. Her coworkers said she was polite and easy
to talk to, often humming along to Taylor's Swift songs
as she passed out milkshakes through car windows. Her manager,
Brenda Collins, remembered her as the kind of girl who
would stay late to help clean up even when she
(01:24):
wasn't asked. At school, Leela was known for her love
of art. Her sketch books were full of pastel sunsets,
water lilies, and quiet self portraits. Her art teacher, Mister Lane,
said she had a gentle eye for beauty and could
make even dull colors look soft and full of feeling.
Leela had recently been accepted to a small art college
in Illinois, and she often told friends she wanted to
(01:45):
become a children's book illustrator one day. She lived with
her mother, Kara Corbin, in a two bedroom house near
Essex Avenue. Kara worked as a dental assistant at a
local clinic and was known for being both protective and
outspoken Neighbors often saw her sitting on the porch after work,
still in scrubs, smoking and talking on the phone. Those
who knew them said the mother and daughter loved each
(02:07):
other deeply, but clashed often. Kara worried about Leela's late nights,
her makeup, and her growing independence. Friends said their arguments
usually ended with slammed doors and text messages like I'm fine, mom,
stop freaking the bleab out like a bleeping helicopter mom.
In the weeks before she disappeared, Leayla seemed distracted but cheerful.
(02:28):
Her best friend Maya Grant, noticed she was always checking
her phone and sometimes smiling at messages she wouldn't explain.
Leayla told Maya she was seeing someone older, but didn't
want to give a name. She started talking about taking
a trip somewhere new and exciting. Maya thought it was
just a fantasy, another one of Lila's daydreams. But by
(02:48):
the second week of April, Leelah had quietly withdrawn two
thousand dollars from her savings account and began packing a
duffel bag with clothes, art supplies, and her favorite sketchbook.
She told him she might spend the weekend at Maya's house.
No one knew she was planning something far bigger that
she had fallen for her substitute English teacher, a man
twice her age, and was preparing to run away with
(03:11):
him that Friday night, As the sun dipped low behind
the Sonic Sign and the air smelled of grilled burghers
and lilocks, few and Kirkwood could have guessed that it
would be the last time anyone saw Leelah Corbin alive.
It was a warm sunny morning on May eleventh, twenty nineteen,
almost three weeks since Leelah Corbin had vanished from her
Kirkwood home across the Missouri River in Saint Charles County.
(03:34):
The air smelled of fresh cut grass and rain soaked pavement.
At the Safelock storage facility off Highway ninety four, the
morning had started like any other for Don Reeves, the
fifty two year old manager who had worked there for
nearly a decade. Reeves arrived around eight thirty am, carrying
a styrofoam cup of gas station coffee and a breakfast
sandwich wrapped in foil. By mid morning, he had finished
(03:57):
his usual rounds checking padlocks, lighting down late payment notices
and chatting with a tenant moving boxes into a truck.
But when he reached the far corner of the property,
near unit two hundred and twelve, something caught his attention.
I thought it was just a dead raccoon or something.
Reeves later told reporters that part of the lot always
smelled kind of musty after it rained. The air was still,
(04:20):
but there was a strong, sore odor of it seemed
to grow worse the closer he got. He checked the
lock on the metal roll up door and noticed that
it wasn't latched properly. The unit had been rendered under
the name Elafra, a name he didn't recognize, and it
was due for inspection because the payment was overdue, following
company policy. Reeves pulled on a pair of gloves, unlatched
(04:41):
the door, and tugged it open about halfway. What he
saw inside made him drop his clipboard. In the center
of the small concrete space was a large, tightly wrapped
bundle layers of clear industrial shrink wrap stacked neatly like
a cocoon. There was no furniture, no boxes, no signs
of storage items, just the plastic wrap shape and a
(05:02):
faint sweet odor mixed with cologne. The spring sunlight filtered
in through the half open door, glinting off the shiny layers.
At first, I thought maybe it was an old mannikin,
Reeds said. Then I saw a bit of blonde hair
stuck in the plastic. That's when my stomach turned. He
stumbled back, dropping his keys and nearly tripping over the
concrete lip of the doorway. His hands shook as he
(05:23):
pulled out his phone and dialed nine one one. The
despatcher asked if any one was hurt, and Reeves could
barely get the words out. It's bad, he said, I
think it's a body. Within minutes, he locked the gate,
ran back to the main office and waited in silence,
the smell still clinging to his clothes. I've seen dead mice,
not dead people, he told officer's layer. I just froze.
(05:46):
At ten thirty seven a m. Deputies from the Saint
Charles County Sheriff's Department arrived on the scene. They immediately
tacked off the area and escorted Reeves back to his
office to take a statement. By noon, the discovery was
already spreading through the news alerts in social media posts,
body found in Saint Charles storage Unit one headline read
no one yet knew it was Leela, the missing Kirkwood
(06:09):
teen whose smiling photo had been taken to telephone polls
for weeks. But when detectives opened the plastic layers and
found the small painted fingernails and a bracelet that said LC,
they knew the search for Lela Corbin was over. By
the time police arrived at the Safelock storage facility in
Saint Charles County, the morning sun had climbed high and
(06:30):
the temperature was nearing seventy degrees. It was May eleven,
twenty nineteen, almost exactly three weeks after eighteen year old
Leela Corbin vanished from her home in Kirkwood. For detectives,
the discovery inside Unit two hundred and twelve would become
one of the most haunting crime scenes they had ever processed.
The first officers on scene arrived around ten thirty am,
(06:50):
their radio's crackling As they stepped out of their patrol cars.
They were met by Don Reeves, the storage facility manager
who had made the grim discovery earlier that morning. Reeves
stood pale and shaking near the front office, clutching a
bottle of water handed to him by a deputy. He
kept saying, I didn't touch anything. I swear I didn't
touch anything. Within minutes, yellow tape was stretched across the
(07:14):
gravel driveway. Tenants who had come to move boxes where
furniture were told to leave the property. The air smelled
faintly of motor oil, wet grass, and something much worse,
the odor seeping from the storage unit at the far
end of the row. Detective Sarah Haughton, a seventeen year
veteran of the Saint Charles County Sheriff's Department, arrived just
before eleven am. Known among her colleagues for her calm
(07:37):
and steady manner, she immediately took charge. Potton, wore plain clothes, jeans, boots,
and a light gray blazer, and carried a notebook that
she would later fill with twenty seven pages of observations.
When the roll up door of Unit two hundred and
twelve was lifted, the fluorescent light from the ceiling flickered on,
revealing a space that looked eerily tidy. The concrete floor
(08:00):
was clean. Against the back wall sat a single metal
folding chair, a half empty bottle of water, and an
empty box labeled industrial shrink film heavy duty. In the
middle of the floor lay the plastic wrap bundle. The
body was carefully encased in multiple layers of thick, transparent film,
sealed tight with precision, as if someone had tried to
(08:21):
preserve her rather than discard her. When the forensic steam
slowly unwrapped the layers, the air filled with the scent
of men's colown and decaying plastic. Inside was the lifeless
form of Leela Corbin, still wearing the thin silver bracelet
engraved with her initials. The medical examiner, doctor Janet Morales,
arrived shortly after noon. Her preliminary notes described faint bruising
(08:43):
on Leila's wrists, suggesting she had been restrained before death.
There were no signs of stabbing or gunfire. The cause
of death was suffocation, likely caused by the layers of
shrink wrap pressed tightly against her face and chest. Doctor
Morales quietly told detective Hotton it looked still. Someone took
their time. Forensic technicians spent the rest of the afternoon
(09:04):
documenting every inch of the unit. They photographed the walls,
dusted for fingerprints, and collected fibers from the concrete floor.
Samples of the plastic were placed into evidence bags and
sent for DNA testing at the State crime Lab. Outside
the unit, reporters began to gather along the fence, their
camera lenses pointed toward the flashing patrol lights. Inside, the
(09:25):
detectives worked in silence, speaking only in low voices. Haughton
later described the scene as methodical but deeply disturbing, the
kind of case that stays with you. By evening, when
the sun began to sink behind the row of metal
storage doors, the investigation was officially underway. The search for
Leela Cordon was over. Now the search for her killer
(09:45):
had begun. When detectives began tracing the days leading up
to Leela Cordan's disappearance, one inn kept coming up. He
can laughrp Age thirty four. He was the substitute English
teacher who had been filling in at Kirkwood High Schools
since early February while the regular teacher was on maternity leaf.
On paper, he seemed ordinary, a husband, father of two,
(10:07):
and teacher with a degree in history from the University
of Kansas. But in the weeks after Leela vanished, investigators
would uncover a very different side of him. One that
shocked the quiet Kirkwood community. Even lived on a tree
lined street not far from downtown Kirkwood with his wife, Hannah,
a nurse at a nearby clinic, and their young children,
ages five and eight. He drove a silver Honda Accord
(10:29):
and spent most mornings grading papers at a Starbucks near
the school. To coworkers, he was soft spoken, polite, and
always willing to help students who struggled with writing. He
was a little odd, but harmless, said one teacher. Later,
another remembered him saying, teaching makes me feel like a
potent lover again. At the time, people laughed it off
(10:49):
as a strange joke. Detectives learned that during the spring semester,
Lathrop had developed an unusual interest in one student, Leela Corbin.
She often stayed after class to discs us essays, and
he encouraged her to write about passion and freedom. At first,
no one thought much of it, but when investigators searched
Leila's phone records and social media activity, they found that
(11:11):
the two had been exchanging spicy and racy snapchat messages,
sometimes late at night. It didn't stop there. Leela had
withdrawn two thousand dollars from her savings account at a
local bank just three days before she went missing. Her
search history included phrases like how to rent an apartment
without ID and bus routes to Nashville. The real turning
(11:31):
point came when detectives reviewed surveillance footage from a highway
rest stop near Columbia, Missouri. The footage, dated April nineteen,
twenty nineteen, showed Daven and Lila together. In the grainy video,
the two were laughing, buying snacks from a vending machine,
and embracing nearest silver Honda. They appeared comfortable. Not a
kidnapping but a choice. Detective Sarah Haughton and her partner,
(11:54):
Detective Marcuera, brought Even in for questioning at the Saint
Charles County Sheriff's Office on me thirteen, twenty nineteen, two
days after Lila's body was found. Ivan arrived in a
wrinkled dress shirt, Looking pale and unshaven. He sat with
his hands folded tightly in his lap, avoiding eye contact.
At first, Even was calm. He told detectives that Leela
(12:16):
had been lonely and misunderstood, and that he was only
trying to help her find direction. When pressed about the
messages in the highway footage, his tone shifted. He admitted
they had talked about running away together, but claimed he
had changed his mind at the last minute. According to
the police transcript, Ivan said she panicked and randomly boff.
I swear that's the last time I saw her. But
(12:39):
his story began to crumble under scrutiny. Detectives had already
matched his fingerprints to several items found inside storage unit
two hundred and twelve, including the empty box of industrial
shrink wrap. Phone tower records showed his cell phone pinging
in Saint Charles County the day after Lilla disappeared. When
confronted with the evidence, Evan's poger brooke, his hands, trembled
(13:02):
and sweat beat it on his forehead. I didn't kill her,
he muttered, over and over. But by then, Detective Hotten
later said, we knew he was lying. His story didn't
just fall apart, it collapsed completely. What had started as
a quiet teacher student friendship had now turned into a
murder investigation, and for the first time, police began to
(13:22):
see the full picture of just how far even Lathrup's
obsession had gone. After police questioned even Lafrap, their attention
turned to his wife, Hannah Lathrup, aged thirty three. She
was a registered nurse at Mercy Hospital in Saint Louis
and the mother of two young children. Neighbors described her
as the perfect Mond type, always organized, polite and friendly,
(13:45):
but with eyes that missed nothing. She kept her front
lawn trimmed, drove a wipe Honda cr V, and was
known for baking cookies for neighborhood block parties. But behind
the need home and cheerful greetings, detectives soon learned there
was tension. Two days before Leelah Cordon disappeared, Hannah had
discovered a string of messages between her husband and the
(14:07):
eighteen year old student. The texts, which police later recovered
through Evans's phone back up, included phrases like I can't
stop thinking about your bleep and you make me feel
like a star lover again. When detectives interviewed Hannah on
April twenty three, twenty nineteen, she admitted she had confronted
her husband after finding the messages. I told him he
(14:27):
was about to throw everything away, she said in her
police statement. I told him you're going to throw our
bleeping lives away for a bleeping ugly child. According to investigators,
Hannah's voice during the interview was calm and measured almost clinical.
She explained that she had gone to work the night
shift at Mercy Hospital on April nineteen, the same night
(14:48):
Leela was last seen. She clocked in at six fifty
eight pm and didn't leave until nearly seven thirty the
next morning. Confirmed by hospital time records and security footage
showing her taking vital signs on the car already at
Flora around midnight, her alibi was airtight. She couldn't have
left the hospital during those hours without being noticed. Still,
detectives found her lack of emotion unusual. She seemed relieved
(15:11):
more than angry. Detective Mark Correra later said like she
already knew what had happened and was just glad it
was over. Hannah told police she had suspected Even was
acting strange for months, spending extra hours, grating papers, taking
long drives, and keeping his phone face down at dinner.
She said he had become distant and moody, and that
(15:31):
she had considered taking the kids to her sister's house
in Springfield for a while. He wasn't himself. She said
he was chasing some fantasy. During the search of the
Lafrats home, investigators found a few unsettling clues. In a
couple shared laptop, there were deleted Internet searches about Berner
Phone's storage units and temporary housing in Columbia, Missouri. However,
(15:54):
all of those searches were tied to Evan's user account,
not Hannah's. In her closet, police found nothing suspens, just
folded scrubs, children's drawings, and a half packed Duffel bag
she said she was planning to use for a weekend
trip with her sister. Detective Sarah Houghton recalled that Hannah's
calm demeanor stood out during questioning. She didn't cry, she
(16:15):
couldn't shout, She just looked done, Houghton said. Later, Hannah
maintained that she had no idea where Leela was and
didn't believe her husband was capable of violence, but when
asked if she thought even could have run away with Leela,
she paused before answering, I think he wanted to, she
finally said, but he's too much of a coward to
follow through. Police eventually cleared Hannah of any direct involvement
(16:38):
in Leelah Corban's disappearance or death. Still many in the
neighborhood whispered that she had known more than she admitted.
One neighbor put it simply, she was the kind of
woman who saw everything. If she didn't stop it, maybe
it's because she didn't want to. By the end of
May twenty nineteen, the investigation into Leelah Corban's death had
taken several turns. Police thought they understood what happened, a
(17:00):
forbidden romance gone wrong, but a new discovery made them
question everything. On May twenty eight, a digital forensic specialist
at the Saint Charles County Police Department made a startling
fine while reviewing data from Hannah Laffrap's personal laptop. The laptop,
a silver twenty sixteen MacBook Air, had been seized weeks
earlier from the Lafrop home. Detectives believed it might contain
(17:22):
messages or documents linked to her husband, even who was
already their main suspect. That rainy Tuesday morning, the forensic
technician noticed a pattern of deleted Internet searches from April
twenty to twenty one, just hours after Leela had gone missing.
The search history included chilling phrases like how to remove
evidence of plastic wrap suffocation, temperature of body decomposition in
(17:46):
sealed space, how long before smell starts in hot car?
Detective Sarah Haughton, who had been on the case since
the beginning, said she felt a chill that had nothing
to do with the weather. The rain outside was steady,
drumming on a metal roof of the police annex where
the forensics team worked. It was one of those gray
days where the air felt heavy, she later told the reporter.
(18:08):
When those search terms popped up, the whole room went quiet.
The timing of the searches lined up almost exactly with
when Even lafferc was giving his first police interview, claiming
that Leela had panicked and ran the bleep off after
he changed his mind about leaving his wife. The evidence
raised an alarming question, had Hannah been helping cover up
a crime while even was pretending to cooperate with police.
(18:30):
Detectives immediately brought Hannah in for a second interview. She
denied making the searches and said her husband sometimes used
her laptop when his tablet was dead, But technicians found
the searches had been made while her nursing email account
was logged in, which meant someone using her profile had
typed them. That same week, another shocking discovery deepened the mystery.
(18:50):
The Medical Examiner's office received final lab results from Lela's autopsy.
The report revealed that Leela was about eight weeks pregnant
when she died. However, DNA testing showed that the baby
was not even Lathrops. It belonged to a former boyfriend,
a local team named Ryan Kessler, who had dated Leela
the previous fall. The revelation complicated everything. If even found
(19:13):
out she was pregnant with another man's child, that change
his motive completely. Detective Houghton said it could explain why
she was killed not out of love but betrayal. Investigators
began re examining phone records and location data from both
Evan and Hannah in the days after Lilla disappeared. They
suspected that both spouses may have known far more than
(19:34):
they were saying, and that what began as a secret
affair had spiraled into something much darker. As the rain
continued to fall that week in late May, the case
that had once seen straightforward now looked like a web
of lies. Jealousy and buried secrets. By late May twenty nineteen,
police turned their attention back to Kara Corbin, the forty
four year old mother of Leela Corbin. Kara was a
(19:57):
familiar face to Minnie and Kirkwood, known for her loud personality,
quick temper, and deep love for her only child. She
worked as a dental assistant at a local clinic off
Big Ben Boulevard and lived in a small tan bungalow
with a white porch swing and overgrown rose bushes in
the front yard. Neighbors told reporters that Kara had a
reputation for being both controlling and volatile. She was the
(20:20):
kind of mom who called the school if Leela was
five minutes late and showed up unannounced at her daughter's
part time job at Sonic drive In. Laila's friend said
Kara would scream at her for acting grown, checking her
phone constantly and tracking her location using a family app.
One friend recalled Kara once showing up at a park
after Lilla turned her phone off for an hour. She
(20:41):
was shaking mad. The friend said she didn't like not
knowing where Lila was. When detectives Sarah Haughton and Mark
Rrea arrived at Kara's home on April twenty fourth, twenty nineteen.
She greeted them wearing pagema pants and holding a cigarette.
Her mood shifted quickly between sadness and rage. He took
my baby, she shouted at at one point, referring to
(21:01):
Evan Lafra, the substitute teacher. But she shouldn't have gone
with him either. The search of Kara's home turned up
an unexpected clue. In the drawer of her nightstand, officers
found a small orange prescription bottle labeled Heaven M Lavra
ten milligrams zolpiem, a common sleeping pill. The date on
the label showed it had been filled only two weeks
(21:21):
before Lila's disappearance. When questioned, Kara insisted she hadn't stolen it.
She claimed she found the bottle in Lila's purse after
her daughter went missing and kept it in case she
came back. The discovery immediately raised suspicion. Why would a
teenage girl have her teacher's prescription pills in her back.
Detectives sent the bottle for fingerprint and DNA testing. The
(21:42):
results showed Evan's prints on the label, but also faint
traces of Kara's on the cap. Neighbors later said they
saw Kara outside nearly every evening after Lela vanished, sitting
in a lawn chair by the mailbox chain, smoking cigarettes
and muttering to herself. One neighbor remembered her saying over
a nime over, she doesn't know what the bleach she's done.
(22:03):
Detective hot And described Kara as emotionally unpredictable during her interviews.
She would break down in tears one minute and lash
out the next. She accused the police of not doing
their jobs fast enough, and said she believed even had
brainwashed her daughter. He messed with her head. She told them,
he made her think she was grown. Despite her erratic
behavior and the suspicious bottle, investigators couldn't link Kara directly
(22:27):
to the crime. The forensic steinm confirmed that none of
her finger prints matched those found on the layers of
industrial shrink wrap that had been used to suffocate and
seal Leila's body. Still, Detective Ferara noted something unsettling about
Kara's reactions. She wasn't shocked by anything we told her,
he said later. It was like she already knew what
we were going to say. By early June, police began
(22:49):
to wonder if Kara's anger and guilt came from something deeper,
not just grief, but knowledge of what really happened to
her daughter. For now, though there was no proof, the
grieving other remained both a victim and a mystery. By
early June of twenty nineteen, the case that had shaken
the quiet town of Kirkwood, Missouri, was finally nearing his
(23:09):
grim conclusion. After weeks of forensic testing, DNA samples taken
from the layers of industrial shrink wrap confirmed what investigators
had feared all along. The material carried the genetic profile
of even Lavra, the thirty four year old substitute teacher
who had vanished from public view since his last police interview.
On the morning of June two, twenty nineteen, just after sunrise,
(23:31):
detectives Sarah Haughton and Mark Carrera, along with several uniformed officers,
arrived at the Lafrop home, a modest brick house on
a cul de sac near North Taylor Avenue. The front
yard was scattered with plastic toys, a reminder of the
couple's two small children. Even answered the door wearing sweatpants,
and a faded University of Kansas t shirt. He looked tired,
(23:53):
his eyes red from sleepless nights. He didn't resist when
police read him his rights. I just wanted to preserve her,
he said quietly, as officer's handcuffed him and led him
down the front stats neighbors later recalled the eerie calm
of the arrest, the birds chirping, the sound of a
lawn mower in the distance, and Hannah laugh Rup standing
frozen in the doorway, her hands pressed to her mouth.
(24:15):
At the station even broke down. During his second interview,
the confession came in pieces, halting at first, then pouring out.
He told detectives that he and Lilla Corbin, the eighteen
year old senior he'd been secretly seen, had planned to
run away to Nashville together. He had promised her they
would get a teaching job and rent a little place,
starting over where no one knew them, But the fantasy
(24:38):
unraveled in a single conversation. Lila told him she was pregnant,
not with his child, but with her ex boyfriends. According
to Evan, she said she still loved the boy and
wanted to figure things out before running away. That moment,
he claimed, shattered him. He even described the scene in
chilling detail. He and Lilla had rented a cheap motel
room off Highway seventy in Saintarles County, where they planned
(25:01):
to rest before continuing south. The argument began in the bathroom.
Lila tried to leave and even blocked the door. In
a fit of rage, he grabbed the industrial shrink wrap
he had brought from his garage, material he said was
meant to protect their things in the move. He told
investigators he only meant to scare her, but as he
wrapped the plastic around her face and body, she struggled
(25:22):
and fell silent. By the time he stopped, she was dead.
Instead of calling for help, he panicked. He sealed her
inside the layers of film, drove to a nearby storage
facility in Saint Charles County, and hid the bundle inside
a rented unit under a false man. When officers later
informed Kara Corbin that her daughter's killer had confessed, she
collapsed in her front yard, whispering through tears. He promised
(25:46):
he protect her. The arrest brought relief to the town
of Kirkwood, but also heartbreak. The truth revealed not only
a murder, but a tragic story of obsession, lies, and
a love that was never real. The trial of even
Laughraup began in February twenty twenty three, nearly four years
after the disappearance and murder of eighteen year old Leilah Corbin.
(26:08):
By then, the quiet suburb of Kirkwood, Missouri, had long
tried to move on. New families had moved into the
Corbin neighborhood, and the Sonic Drive in where Lila once worked,
now had a new sign and new faces behind the counter.
But when the courtroom doors opened of the Saint Louis
County Courthouse, old wounds came rushing back. Reporters packed the benches,
and camera crews waited outside in the cold winter air.
(26:31):
Each day, the courtroom filled with townspeople who remembered Lilla's
smile from her high school yearbook or the mural sheet
painted for her senior art project. Her mother, Kara Corbin,
sat in the front row wearing black clutching a framed
photo of Leela that showed her laughing on the beach
in a yellow sundress. The prosecutor, Dana Kessler, forty one,
was known for her sharp courtroom style and unwavering calm.
(26:55):
A former child afficacy attorney, she told the jury that
Even had groomed and manipulated his student for months, using
charm and secrecy to draw her in. He wanted control,
she said in her opening statement, and when Leela made
a choice he didn't like, he took her life instead.
Kessler presented hundreds of pages of digital evidence, snapchat messages,
(27:16):
deleted texts, and a timeline of Evans online searches for
how long does it take to suffocate with plastic The
jury also heard emotional testimony from Lela's best friend, Maya Grant,
who described how Leela had been in love and scared
at the same time. The defense attorney, Mark Lively fifty six,
a graying, soft spoken lawyer from Jefferson City, argued that
(27:37):
the killing had not been planned. He called it a
crime of panic, the act of a desperate man whose
life had spiraled out of control. Even Lathrop is guilty
of being weak, Lively told the jury, but he is
not guilty of premeditated murder. Throughout the trial, Even sat
quietly at the defense stable, dressed in a wrinkled suit
(27:58):
provided by the county jail barely looked up, except when
the prosecution showed photos of Leela, moments when his jaw
tightened and his eyes watered. The atmosphere grew tense. During
Kara Korbin's testimony, she broke down while describing the day
she learned her daughter's body had been found. He was
supposed to protect her, she sobbed, not kill her. The
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courtroom was silent except for the sound of her crying.
After two weeks of testimony and deliberation, the jury returned
a verdict guilty of second degree murder. The judge sentenced
even Lathrup to thirty five years in prison, without the
possibility of parole for at least twenty eight years. As
the sentence was read, even stared at the floor. Kara
wept and whispered, it's not enough. Many in Kirkwood agreed.
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Some residents said they felt justice had been done, while
others thought the punishment was far too light for a
man who had taken advantage of a child's trust and
destroyed so many lives. When the trial ended, the courthouse
emptied slowly, leaving behind only the echo of Lilla's name,
a reminder of innocince lost and of a town forever change.
(29:03):
After the trial concluded in February twenty twenty three, the
town of Kirkwood, Missouri, began adjusting to life without the
constant tension of the investigation. For some, the sense of
closure was small and fragile. For others, it marked the
first step toward moving on. Hannah Laughra, thirty seven at
the time, finalized her divorce from even Lathrop. Shortly after
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the verdict. She relocated with her two children to Madison, Wisconsin,
seeking a quieter life far from the memories of the
tragic events. Neighbors said she kept herself rarely leaving the
house and never spoke publicly about her role in the
investigation or her perspective on her husband's actions. Friends described
her as quiet and subdued, focused on rebuilding stability for
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her children. Kara Corbin, now forty eight, made different choices
in the wake of her daughter's death. She resigned from
her dental assistant position at a local clinic and dedicated
herself to preserving Lila's memory. In April twenty twenty three,
she launched the Lila KORbin Art Scholarship, a small fund
to support high school seniors pursuing visual arts. She loved
(30:05):
painting sunsets. Kara told a reporter of the scholarship's first
award ceremony, I wanted their kids to have the chance
to chase their dreams like Leela would have. She also
volunteered at Kirkwood High mentoring students in the art room
where Leela once spent hours painting and sketching. For law enforcement,
the case had a lasting impact as well. Detective Sarah Haughton,
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who had led the investigation, was promoted to lieutenant later
in twenty twenty three. She credited her team's careful work
and modern forensic techniques, including digital forensics, for bringing closure
to the family and the community. Houghton later spoke at
a police academy seminar about the case, emphasizing the importance
of vigilance in cases involving miners and authority figures. Kirkwood
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High School itself quietly honored Lela's life. Her mural, a
soft pink sunset fading into lavender clouds, remained on the
wall of the art classroom. Students and teachers would often
paused to admire it, a permanent reminder of her talent,
her laughter, and the tragedy that touched their small town.
Though life went on, the memory of Leela's story lingered
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in the streets, the classrooms, and in the conversations of
parents and neighbors. The Sonic Drive in where she had worked,
reopen under new management, and the corner of Manchester Road
where she once waited tables slowly returned to normal, But
for those who knew her, the vibrant girl with the
wide smile and the paint streaked fingers was never forgotten.
In February twenty twenty three, nearly four years after Lila's death,
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Kirkwood had moved forward, cautiously, carrying grief lessons and the
quiet hope that her legacy in art and in life
would continue to inspire others. You've been listening to true
crime case files. The story of Leela Corbin is one
of love twisted into control, and how a community learned
that even the most trusted faces can hide the darkest intentions.
Kirkwood, Missouri. April twenty nineteen, the disappearance of eighteen year
old high school senior Leelah Corbin shocked the quiet, tree
lined streets of this Saint Louis suburb, a town where
people still left doors unlocked and waved at the mail carrier.
At first, it seemed like a teenage runaway story, a
young girl leaving home for love. But within weeks Kirkwood
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would learn that this was no romance. It was a
crime built on obsession, lies, and betrayal. In April of
twenty nineteen, Leela Corbin was a familiar face in the
small suburb of Kirkwood, Missouri, a quiet community about twenty
minutes outside of Saint Louis. She was eighteen years old
and in her final semester at Kirkwood High School, where
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the lawns were greening up after winter and seniors were
counting the days until graduation. Lel had already picked out
her prom dress, a pale blue gown she found on
clearance at Macy's, and talked about how she wanted to
paint a mural over the summer before heading to college.
Lel worked evenings at the Sonic Drive in on Manchester Road,
taking orders on roller skates and saving tips in a
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Mason jar on her dresser. She hoped to buy a
used car, maybe a red Honda Civic, before moving away
for school. Her coworkers said she was polite and easy
to talk to, often humming along to Taylor's Swift songs
as she passed out milkshakes through car windows. Her manager,
Brenda Collins, remembered her as the kind of girl who
would stay late to help clean up even when she
(01:24):
wasn't asked. At school, Leela was known for her love
of art. Her sketch books were full of pastel sunsets,
water lilies, and quiet self portraits. Her art teacher, Mister Lane,
said she had a gentle eye for beauty and could
make even dull colors look soft and full of feeling.
Leela had recently been accepted to a small art college
in Illinois, and she often told friends she wanted to
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become a children's book illustrator one day. She lived with
her mother, Kara Corbin, in a two bedroom house near
Essex Avenue. Kara worked as a dental assistant at a
local clinic and was known for being both protective and
outspoken Neighbors often saw her sitting on the porch after work,
still in scrubs, smoking and talking on the phone. Those
who knew them said the mother and daughter loved each
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other deeply, but clashed often. Kara worried about Leela's late nights,
her makeup, and her growing independence. Friends said their arguments
usually ended with slammed doors and text messages like I'm fine, mom,
stop freaking the bleab out like a bleeping helicopter mom.
In the weeks before she disappeared, Leayla seemed distracted but cheerful.
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Her best friend Maya Grant, noticed she was always checking
her phone and sometimes smiling at messages she wouldn't explain.
Leayla told Maya she was seeing someone older, but didn't
want to give a name. She started talking about taking
a trip somewhere new and exciting. Maya thought it was
just a fantasy, another one of Lila's daydreams. But by
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the second week of April, Leelah had quietly withdrawn two
thousand dollars from her savings account and began packing a
duffel bag with clothes, art supplies, and her favorite sketchbook.
She told him she might spend the weekend at Maya's house.
No one knew she was planning something far bigger that
she had fallen for her substitute English teacher, a man
twice her age, and was preparing to run away with
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him that Friday night, As the sun dipped low behind
the Sonic Sign and the air smelled of grilled burghers
and lilocks, few and Kirkwood could have guessed that it
would be the last time anyone saw Leelah Corbin alive.
It was a warm sunny morning on May eleventh, twenty nineteen,
almost three weeks since Leelah Corbin had vanished from her
Kirkwood home across the Missouri River in Saint Charles County.
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The air smelled of fresh cut grass and rain soaked pavement.
At the Safelock storage facility off Highway ninety four, the
morning had started like any other for Don Reeves, the
fifty two year old manager who had worked there for
nearly a decade. Reeves arrived around eight thirty am, carrying
a styrofoam cup of gas station coffee and a breakfast
sandwich wrapped in foil. By mid morning, he had finished
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his usual rounds checking padlocks, lighting down late payment notices
and chatting with a tenant moving boxes into a truck.
But when he reached the far corner of the property,
near unit two hundred and twelve, something caught his attention.
I thought it was just a dead raccoon or something.
Reeves later told reporters that part of the lot always
smelled kind of musty after it rained. The air was still,
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but there was a strong, sore odor of it seemed
to grow worse the closer he got. He checked the
lock on the metal roll up door and noticed that
it wasn't latched properly. The unit had been rendered under
the name Elafra, a name he didn't recognize, and it
was due for inspection because the payment was overdue, following
company policy. Reeves pulled on a pair of gloves, unlatched
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the door, and tugged it open about halfway. What he
saw inside made him drop his clipboard. In the center
of the small concrete space was a large, tightly wrapped
bundle layers of clear industrial shrink wrap stacked neatly like
a cocoon. There was no furniture, no boxes, no signs
of storage items, just the plastic wrap shape and a
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faint sweet odor mixed with cologne. The spring sunlight filtered
in through the half open door, glinting off the shiny layers.
At first, I thought maybe it was an old mannikin,
Reeds said. Then I saw a bit of blonde hair
stuck in the plastic. That's when my stomach turned. He
stumbled back, dropping his keys and nearly tripping over the
concrete lip of the doorway. His hands shook as he
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pulled out his phone and dialed nine one one. The
despatcher asked if any one was hurt, and Reeves could
barely get the words out. It's bad, he said, I
think it's a body. Within minutes, he locked the gate,
ran back to the main office and waited in silence,
the smell still clinging to his clothes. I've seen dead mice,
not dead people, he told officer's layer. I just froze.
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At ten thirty seven a m. Deputies from the Saint
Charles County Sheriff's Department arrived on the scene. They immediately
tacked off the area and escorted Reeves back to his
office to take a statement. By noon, the discovery was
already spreading through the news alerts in social media posts,
body found in Saint Charles storage Unit one headline read
no one yet knew it was Leela, the missing Kirkwood
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teen whose smiling photo had been taken to telephone polls
for weeks. But when detectives opened the plastic layers and
found the small painted fingernails and a bracelet that said LC,
they knew the search for Lela Corbin was over. By
the time police arrived at the Safelock storage facility in
Saint Charles County, the morning sun had climbed high and
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the temperature was nearing seventy degrees. It was May eleven,
twenty nineteen, almost exactly three weeks after eighteen year old
Leela Corbin vanished from her home in Kirkwood. For detectives,
the discovery inside Unit two hundred and twelve would become
one of the most haunting crime scenes they had ever processed.
The first officers on scene arrived around ten thirty am,
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their radio's crackling As they stepped out of their patrol cars.
They were met by Don Reeves, the storage facility manager
who had made the grim discovery earlier that morning. Reeves
stood pale and shaking near the front office, clutching a
bottle of water handed to him by a deputy. He
kept saying, I didn't touch anything. I swear I didn't
touch anything. Within minutes, yellow tape was stretched across the
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gravel driveway. Tenants who had come to move boxes where
furniture were told to leave the property. The air smelled
faintly of motor oil, wet grass, and something much worse,
the odor seeping from the storage unit at the far
end of the row. Detective Sarah Haughton, a seventeen year
veteran of the Saint Charles County Sheriff's Department, arrived just
before eleven am. Known among her colleagues for her calm
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and steady manner, she immediately took charge. Potton, wore plain clothes, jeans, boots,
and a light gray blazer, and carried a notebook that
she would later fill with twenty seven pages of observations.
When the roll up door of Unit two hundred and
twelve was lifted, the fluorescent light from the ceiling flickered on,
revealing a space that looked eerily tidy. The concrete floor
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was clean. Against the back wall sat a single metal
folding chair, a half empty bottle of water, and an
empty box labeled industrial shrink film heavy duty. In the
middle of the floor lay the plastic wrap bundle. The
body was carefully encased in multiple layers of thick, transparent film,
sealed tight with precision, as if someone had tried to
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preserve her rather than discard her. When the forensic steam
slowly unwrapped the layers, the air filled with the scent
of men's colown and decaying plastic. Inside was the lifeless
form of Leela Corbin, still wearing the thin silver bracelet
engraved with her initials. The medical examiner, doctor Janet Morales,
arrived shortly after noon. Her preliminary notes described faint bruising
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on Leila's wrists, suggesting she had been restrained before death.
There were no signs of stabbing or gunfire. The cause
of death was suffocation, likely caused by the layers of
shrink wrap pressed tightly against her face and chest. Doctor
Morales quietly told detective Hotton it looked still. Someone took
their time. Forensic technicians spent the rest of the afternoon
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documenting every inch of the unit. They photographed the walls,
dusted for fingerprints, and collected fibers from the concrete floor.
Samples of the plastic were placed into evidence bags and
sent for DNA testing at the State crime Lab. Outside
the unit, reporters began to gather along the fence, their
camera lenses pointed toward the flashing patrol lights. Inside, the
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detectives worked in silence, speaking only in low voices. Haughton
later described the scene as methodical but deeply disturbing, the
kind of case that stays with you. By evening, when
the sun began to sink behind the row of metal
storage doors, the investigation was officially underway. The search for
Leela Cordon was over. Now the search for her killer
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had begun. When detectives began tracing the days leading up
to Leela Cordan's disappearance, one inn kept coming up. He
can laughrp Age thirty four. He was the substitute English
teacher who had been filling in at Kirkwood High Schools
since early February while the regular teacher was on maternity leaf.
On paper, he seemed ordinary, a husband, father of two,
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and teacher with a degree in history from the University
of Kansas. But in the weeks after Leela vanished, investigators
would uncover a very different side of him. One that
shocked the quiet Kirkwood community. Even lived on a tree
lined street not far from downtown Kirkwood with his wife, Hannah,
a nurse at a nearby clinic, and their young children,
ages five and eight. He drove a silver Honda Accord
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and spent most mornings grading papers at a Starbucks near
the school. To coworkers, he was soft spoken, polite, and
always willing to help students who struggled with writing. He
was a little odd, but harmless, said one teacher. Later,
another remembered him saying, teaching makes me feel like a
potent lover again. At the time, people laughed it off
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as a strange joke. Detectives learned that during the spring semester,
Lathrop had developed an unusual interest in one student, Leela Corbin.
She often stayed after class to discs us essays, and
he encouraged her to write about passion and freedom. At first,
no one thought much of it, but when investigators searched
Leila's phone records and social media activity, they found that
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the two had been exchanging spicy and racy snapchat messages,
sometimes late at night. It didn't stop there. Leela had
withdrawn two thousand dollars from her savings account at a
local bank just three days before she went missing. Her
search history included phrases like how to rent an apartment
without ID and bus routes to Nashville. The real turning
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point came when detectives reviewed surveillance footage from a highway
rest stop near Columbia, Missouri. The footage, dated April nineteen,
twenty nineteen, showed Daven and Lila together. In the grainy video,
the two were laughing, buying snacks from a vending machine,
and embracing nearest silver Honda. They appeared comfortable. Not a
kidnapping but a choice. Detective Sarah Haughton and her partner,
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Detective Marcuera, brought Even in for questioning at the Saint
Charles County Sheriff's Office on me thirteen, twenty nineteen, two
days after Lila's body was found. Ivan arrived in a
wrinkled dress shirt, Looking pale and unshaven. He sat with
his hands folded tightly in his lap, avoiding eye contact.
At first, Even was calm. He told detectives that Leela
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had been lonely and misunderstood, and that he was only
trying to help her find direction. When pressed about the
messages in the highway footage, his tone shifted. He admitted
they had talked about running away together, but claimed he
had changed his mind at the last minute. According to
the police transcript, Ivan said she panicked and randomly boff.
I swear that's the last time I saw her. But
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his story began to crumble under scrutiny. Detectives had already
matched his fingerprints to several items found inside storage unit
two hundred and twelve, including the empty box of industrial
shrink wrap. Phone tower records showed his cell phone pinging
in Saint Charles County the day after Lilla disappeared. When
confronted with the evidence, Evan's poger brooke, his hands, trembled
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and sweat beat it on his forehead. I didn't kill her,
he muttered, over and over. But by then, Detective Hotten
later said, we knew he was lying. His story didn't
just fall apart, it collapsed completely. What had started as
a quiet teacher student friendship had now turned into a
murder investigation, and for the first time, police began to
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see the full picture of just how far even Lathrup's
obsession had gone. After police questioned even Lafrap, their attention
turned to his wife, Hannah Lathrup, aged thirty three. She
was a registered nurse at Mercy Hospital in Saint Louis
and the mother of two young children. Neighbors described her
as the perfect Mond type, always organized, polite and friendly,
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but with eyes that missed nothing. She kept her front
lawn trimmed, drove a wipe Honda cr V, and was
known for baking cookies for neighborhood block parties. But behind
the need home and cheerful greetings, detectives soon learned there
was tension. Two days before Leelah Cordon disappeared, Hannah had
discovered a string of messages between her husband and the
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eighteen year old student. The texts, which police later recovered
through Evans's phone back up, included phrases like I can't
stop thinking about your bleep and you make me feel
like a star lover again. When detectives interviewed Hannah on
April twenty three, twenty nineteen, she admitted she had confronted
her husband after finding the messages. I told him he
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was about to throw everything away, she said in her
police statement. I told him you're going to throw our
bleeping lives away for a bleeping ugly child. According to investigators,
Hannah's voice during the interview was calm and measured almost clinical.
She explained that she had gone to work the night
shift at Mercy Hospital on April nineteen, the same night
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Leela was last seen. She clocked in at six fifty
eight pm and didn't leave until nearly seven thirty the
next morning. Confirmed by hospital time records and security footage
showing her taking vital signs on the car already at
Flora around midnight, her alibi was airtight. She couldn't have
left the hospital during those hours without being noticed. Still,
detectives found her lack of emotion unusual. She seemed relieved
(15:11):
more than angry. Detective Mark Correra later said like she
already knew what had happened and was just glad it
was over. Hannah told police she had suspected Even was
acting strange for months, spending extra hours, grating papers, taking
long drives, and keeping his phone face down at dinner.
She said he had become distant and moody, and that
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she had considered taking the kids to her sister's house
in Springfield for a while. He wasn't himself. She said
he was chasing some fantasy. During the search of the
Lafrats home, investigators found a few unsettling clues. In a
couple shared laptop, there were deleted Internet searches about Berner
Phone's storage units and temporary housing in Columbia, Missouri. However,
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all of those searches were tied to Evan's user account,
not Hannah's. In her closet, police found nothing suspens, just
folded scrubs, children's drawings, and a half packed Duffel bag
she said she was planning to use for a weekend
trip with her sister. Detective Sarah Houghton recalled that Hannah's
calm demeanor stood out during questioning. She didn't cry, she
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couldn't shout, She just looked done, Houghton said. Later, Hannah
maintained that she had no idea where Leela was and
didn't believe her husband was capable of violence, but when
asked if she thought even could have run away with Leela,
she paused before answering, I think he wanted to, she
finally said, but he's too much of a coward to
follow through. Police eventually cleared Hannah of any direct involvement
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in Leelah Corban's disappearance or death. Still many in the
neighborhood whispered that she had known more than she admitted.
One neighbor put it simply, she was the kind of
woman who saw everything. If she didn't stop it, maybe
it's because she didn't want to. By the end of
May twenty nineteen, the investigation into Leelah Corban's death had
taken several turns. Police thought they understood what happened, a
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forbidden romance gone wrong, but a new discovery made them
question everything. On May twenty eight, a digital forensic specialist
at the Saint Charles County Police Department made a startling
fine while reviewing data from Hannah Laffrap's personal laptop. The laptop,
a silver twenty sixteen MacBook Air, had been seized weeks
earlier from the Lafrop home. Detectives believed it might contain
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messages or documents linked to her husband, even who was
already their main suspect. That rainy Tuesday morning, the forensic
technician noticed a pattern of deleted Internet searches from April
twenty to twenty one, just hours after Leela had gone missing.
The search history included chilling phrases like how to remove
evidence of plastic wrap suffocation, temperature of body decomposition in
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sealed space, how long before smell starts in hot car?
Detective Sarah Haughton, who had been on the case since
the beginning, said she felt a chill that had nothing
to do with the weather. The rain outside was steady,
drumming on a metal roof of the police annex where
the forensics team worked. It was one of those gray
days where the air felt heavy, she later told the reporter.
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When those search terms popped up, the whole room went quiet.
The timing of the searches lined up almost exactly with
when Even lafferc was giving his first police interview, claiming
that Leela had panicked and ran the bleep off after
he changed his mind about leaving his wife. The evidence
raised an alarming question, had Hannah been helping cover up
a crime while even was pretending to cooperate with police.
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Detectives immediately brought Hannah in for a second interview. She
denied making the searches and said her husband sometimes used
her laptop when his tablet was dead, But technicians found
the searches had been made while her nursing email account
was logged in, which meant someone using her profile had
typed them. That same week, another shocking discovery deepened the mystery.
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The Medical Examiner's office received final lab results from Lela's autopsy.
The report revealed that Leela was about eight weeks pregnant
when she died. However, DNA testing showed that the baby
was not even Lathrops. It belonged to a former boyfriend,
a local team named Ryan Kessler, who had dated Leela
the previous fall. The revelation complicated everything. If even found
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out she was pregnant with another man's child, that change
his motive completely. Detective Houghton said it could explain why
she was killed not out of love but betrayal. Investigators
began re examining phone records and location data from both
Evan and Hannah in the days after Lilla disappeared. They
suspected that both spouses may have known far more than
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they were saying, and that what began as a secret
affair had spiraled into something much darker. As the rain
continued to fall that week in late May, the case
that had once seen straightforward now looked like a web
of lies. Jealousy and buried secrets. By late May twenty nineteen,
police turned their attention back to Kara Corbin, the forty
four year old mother of Leela Corbin. Kara was a
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familiar face to Minnie and Kirkwood, known for her loud personality,
quick temper, and deep love for her only child. She
worked as a dental assistant at a local clinic off
Big Ben Boulevard and lived in a small tan bungalow
with a white porch swing and overgrown rose bushes in
the front yard. Neighbors told reporters that Kara had a
reputation for being both controlling and volatile. She was the
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kind of mom who called the school if Leela was
five minutes late and showed up unannounced at her daughter's
part time job at Sonic drive In. Laila's friend said
Kara would scream at her for acting grown, checking her
phone constantly and tracking her location using a family app.
One friend recalled Kara once showing up at a park
after Lilla turned her phone off for an hour. She
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was shaking mad. The friend said she didn't like not
knowing where Lila was. When detectives Sarah Haughton and Mark
Rrea arrived at Kara's home on April twenty fourth, twenty nineteen.
She greeted them wearing pagema pants and holding a cigarette.
Her mood shifted quickly between sadness and rage. He took
my baby, she shouted at at one point, referring to
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Evan Lafra, the substitute teacher. But she shouldn't have gone
with him either. The search of Kara's home turned up
an unexpected clue. In the drawer of her nightstand, officers
found a small orange prescription bottle labeled Heaven M Lavra
ten milligrams zolpiem, a common sleeping pill. The date on
the label showed it had been filled only two weeks
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before Lila's disappearance. When questioned, Kara insisted she hadn't stolen it.
She claimed she found the bottle in Lila's purse after
her daughter went missing and kept it in case she
came back. The discovery immediately raised suspicion. Why would a
teenage girl have her teacher's prescription pills in her back.
Detectives sent the bottle for fingerprint and DNA testing. The
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results showed Evan's prints on the label, but also faint
traces of Kara's on the cap. Neighbors later said they
saw Kara outside nearly every evening after Lela vanished, sitting
in a lawn chair by the mailbox chain, smoking cigarettes
and muttering to herself. One neighbor remembered her saying over
a nime over, she doesn't know what the bleach she's done.
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Detective hot And described Kara as emotionally unpredictable during her interviews.
She would break down in tears one minute and lash
out the next. She accused the police of not doing
their jobs fast enough, and said she believed even had
brainwashed her daughter. He messed with her head. She told them,
he made her think she was grown. Despite her erratic
behavior and the suspicious bottle, investigators couldn't link Kara directly
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to the crime. The forensic steinm confirmed that none of
her finger prints matched those found on the layers of
industrial shrink wrap that had been used to suffocate and
seal Leila's body. Still, Detective Ferara noted something unsettling about
Kara's reactions. She wasn't shocked by anything we told her,
he said later. It was like she already knew what
we were going to say. By early June, police began
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to wonder if Kara's anger and guilt came from something deeper,
not just grief, but knowledge of what really happened to
her daughter. For now, though there was no proof, the
grieving other remained both a victim and a mystery. By
early June of twenty nineteen, the case that had shaken
the quiet town of Kirkwood, Missouri, was finally nearing his
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grim conclusion. After weeks of forensic testing, DNA samples taken
from the layers of industrial shrink wrap confirmed what investigators
had feared all along. The material carried the genetic profile
of even Lavra, the thirty four year old substitute teacher
who had vanished from public view since his last police interview.
On the morning of June two, twenty nineteen, just after sunrise,
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detectives Sarah Haughton and Mark Carrera, along with several uniformed officers,
arrived at the Lafrop home, a modest brick house on
a cul de sac near North Taylor Avenue. The front
yard was scattered with plastic toys, a reminder of the
couple's two small children. Even answered the door wearing sweatpants,
and a faded University of Kansas t shirt. He looked tired,
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his eyes red from sleepless nights. He didn't resist when
police read him his rights. I just wanted to preserve her,
he said quietly, as officer's handcuffed him and led him
down the front stats neighbors later recalled the eerie calm
of the arrest, the birds chirping, the sound of a
lawn mower in the distance, and Hannah laugh Rup standing
frozen in the doorway, her hands pressed to her mouth.
(24:15):
At the station even broke down. During his second interview,
the confession came in pieces, halting at first, then pouring out.
He told detectives that he and Lilla Corbin, the eighteen
year old senior he'd been secretly seen, had planned to
run away to Nashville together. He had promised her they
would get a teaching job and rent a little place,
starting over where no one knew them, But the fantasy
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unraveled in a single conversation. Lila told him she was pregnant,
not with his child, but with her ex boyfriends. According
to Evan, she said she still loved the boy and
wanted to figure things out before running away. That moment,
he claimed, shattered him. He even described the scene in
chilling detail. He and Lilla had rented a cheap motel
room off Highway seventy in Saintarles County, where they planned
(25:01):
to rest before continuing south. The argument began in the bathroom.
Lila tried to leave and even blocked the door. In
a fit of rage, he grabbed the industrial shrink wrap
he had brought from his garage, material he said was
meant to protect their things in the move. He told
investigators he only meant to scare her, but as he
wrapped the plastic around her face and body, she struggled
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and fell silent. By the time he stopped, she was dead.
Instead of calling for help, he panicked. He sealed her
inside the layers of film, drove to a nearby storage
facility in Saint Charles County, and hid the bundle inside
a rented unit under a false man. When officers later
informed Kara Corbin that her daughter's killer had confessed, she
collapsed in her front yard, whispering through tears. He promised
(25:46):
he protect her. The arrest brought relief to the town
of Kirkwood, but also heartbreak. The truth revealed not only
a murder, but a tragic story of obsession, lies, and
a love that was never real. The trial of even
Laughraup began in February twenty twenty three, nearly four years
after the disappearance and murder of eighteen year old Leilah Corbin.
(26:08):
By then, the quiet suburb of Kirkwood, Missouri, had long
tried to move on. New families had moved into the
Corbin neighborhood, and the Sonic Drive in where Lila once worked,
now had a new sign and new faces behind the counter.
But when the courtroom doors opened of the Saint Louis
County Courthouse, old wounds came rushing back. Reporters packed the benches,
and camera crews waited outside in the cold winter air.
(26:31):
Each day, the courtroom filled with townspeople who remembered Lilla's
smile from her high school yearbook or the mural sheet
painted for her senior art project. Her mother, Kara Corbin,
sat in the front row wearing black clutching a framed
photo of Leela that showed her laughing on the beach
in a yellow sundress. The prosecutor, Dana Kessler, forty one,
was known for her sharp courtroom style and unwavering calm.
(26:55):
A former child afficacy attorney, she told the jury that
Even had groomed and manipulated his student for months, using
charm and secrecy to draw her in. He wanted control,
she said in her opening statement, and when Leela made
a choice he didn't like, he took her life instead.
Kessler presented hundreds of pages of digital evidence, snapchat messages,
(27:16):
deleted texts, and a timeline of Evans online searches for
how long does it take to suffocate with plastic The
jury also heard emotional testimony from Lela's best friend, Maya Grant,
who described how Leela had been in love and scared
at the same time. The defense attorney, Mark Lively fifty six,
a graying, soft spoken lawyer from Jefferson City, argued that
(27:37):
the killing had not been planned. He called it a
crime of panic, the act of a desperate man whose
life had spiraled out of control. Even Lathrop is guilty
of being weak, Lively told the jury, but he is
not guilty of premeditated murder. Throughout the trial, Even sat
quietly at the defense stable, dressed in a wrinkled suit
(27:58):
provided by the county jail barely looked up, except when
the prosecution showed photos of Leela, moments when his jaw
tightened and his eyes watered. The atmosphere grew tense. During
Kara Korbin's testimony, she broke down while describing the day
she learned her daughter's body had been found. He was
supposed to protect her, she sobbed, not kill her. The
(28:19):
courtroom was silent except for the sound of her crying.
After two weeks of testimony and deliberation, the jury returned
a verdict guilty of second degree murder. The judge sentenced
even Lathrup to thirty five years in prison, without the
possibility of parole for at least twenty eight years. As
the sentence was read, even stared at the floor. Kara
wept and whispered, it's not enough. Many in Kirkwood agreed.
(28:42):
Some residents said they felt justice had been done, while
others thought the punishment was far too light for a
man who had taken advantage of a child's trust and
destroyed so many lives. When the trial ended, the courthouse
emptied slowly, leaving behind only the echo of Lilla's name,
a reminder of innocince lost and of a town forever change.
(29:03):
After the trial concluded in February twenty twenty three, the
town of Kirkwood, Missouri, began adjusting to life without the
constant tension of the investigation. For some, the sense of
closure was small and fragile. For others, it marked the
first step toward moving on. Hannah Laughra, thirty seven at
the time, finalized her divorce from even Lathrop. Shortly after
(29:23):
the verdict. She relocated with her two children to Madison, Wisconsin,
seeking a quieter life far from the memories of the
tragic events. Neighbors said she kept herself rarely leaving the
house and never spoke publicly about her role in the
investigation or her perspective on her husband's actions. Friends described
her as quiet and subdued, focused on rebuilding stability for
(29:45):
her children. Kara Corbin, now forty eight, made different choices
in the wake of her daughter's death. She resigned from
her dental assistant position at a local clinic and dedicated
herself to preserving Lila's memory. In April twenty twenty three,
she launched the Lila KORbin Art Scholarship, a small fund
to support high school seniors pursuing visual arts. She loved
(30:05):
painting sunsets. Kara told a reporter of the scholarship's first
award ceremony, I wanted their kids to have the chance
to chase their dreams like Leela would have. She also
volunteered at Kirkwood High mentoring students in the art room
where Leela once spent hours painting and sketching. For law enforcement,
the case had a lasting impact as well. Detective Sarah Haughton,
(30:26):
who had led the investigation, was promoted to lieutenant later
in twenty twenty three. She credited her team's careful work
and modern forensic techniques, including digital forensics, for bringing closure
to the family and the community. Houghton later spoke at
a police academy seminar about the case, emphasizing the importance
of vigilance in cases involving miners and authority figures. Kirkwood
(30:49):
High School itself quietly honored Lela's life. Her mural, a
soft pink sunset fading into lavender clouds, remained on the
wall of the art classroom. Students and teachers would often
paused to admire it, a permanent reminder of her talent,
her laughter, and the tragedy that touched their small town.
Though life went on, the memory of Leela's story lingered
(31:10):
in the streets, the classrooms, and in the conversations of
parents and neighbors. The Sonic Drive in where she had worked,
reopen under new management, and the corner of Manchester Road
where she once waited tables slowly returned to normal, But
for those who knew her, the vibrant girl with the
wide smile and the paint streaked fingers was never forgotten.
In February twenty twenty three, nearly four years after Lila's death,
(31:33):
Kirkwood had moved forward, cautiously, carrying grief lessons and the
quiet hope that her legacy in art and in life
would continue to inspire others. You've been listening to true
crime case files. The story of Leela Corbin is one
of love twisted into control, and how a community learned
that even the most trusted faces can hide the darkest intentions.
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