
On June 10, 2025, Lance Wright walked into a courtroom with a heart full of fear and a motion in hand. His daughter Zy’nnya was still alive then. She was uncomfortable. Guarded. There were signs something was wrong, but no one wanted to see them.
According to Wright, attorney Jason Riggs of Hand Law Firm, LLC acknowledged in Lee County Family Court that Zy’nnya was hesitant to answer some of his questions, yet still recommended she remain in the home. “Now my baby is dead because of you,” Wright wrote.

But months before that, in February, Wright had already tried. He filed for an emergency hearing, desperate to intervene. Still nothing. The system barely blinked. And by June, even the family court judge, Mike Fellows, didn’t show. All the suits looked the other way. His warning was swallowed by silence.
Wright said it plainly. He told the court something was wrong. He begged the system to protect his daughter. But the paperwork sat. The lawyers shrugged. And the people in power looked away, leaving a child in a home where she wasn’t safe.
And now she’s gone.
According to reporting by WSFA, police believe 13-year-old Zy’nnya Wright and her mother Tyeisha Williams were killed by Williams’ husband, Aaron Williams, Zy’nnya’s stepfather.
Her father, Lance Wright, made it to the scene. And what he said haunts the case:
“I told him to get my child out of that house. I put 100% blame on the Lee County Family Court system and Lee County DHR for failing my daughter. They gave him the green light to kill my daughter.”
This isn’t just a tragedy. It’s a testimony. A testimony of everything broken in Alabama’s family court system. Where fathers like Lance are dismissed, where warnings are filed into silence, and where decisions are made behind closed doors with no allegiance to procedure or protection.




Wright told WSFA that his daughter lost her life trying to protect her mother in what is now being called a domestic abuse case. But who was protecting her? An innocent life gone too soon.
This wasn’t a system unaware. This was a system unmoved. Two emergency pleas. Two missed opportunities.
And now a father carries what the court refused to hold: the weight of a child lost and a truth too heavy to ignore. Grief is a heavy thing. But injustice makes it heavier.
Where are the oaths that were sworn? Where are the guardians of justice?
She was more than a case.
Zy’nnya Wright was a daughter. A protector. A bright spirit with her own voice and her own dreams. She was only thirteen, but the courage she showed in her final moments was beyond her years.
She deserved safety. She deserved joy. She deserved more time. This is not just an indictment of the system that failed her.
It is a tribute to a young life that should still be here.
Zy’nnya Wright, you were brave. You mattered. You are not forgotten.
Families all across this state and this nation are sick and tired of the abuse, the neglect, and the refusal of DHR and the family court to do their jobs. They barge in when no danger exists, then disappear while children are dying and parents are left to survive the unimaginable. This is a nationwide crisis.
How many more children must suffer? How many more must we bury before someone is held accountable?
DHR. Judges. Lawyers.
How many?
We want answers. And we’re not waiting quietly anymore.
We will run full-blown campaigns against you. We will expose every name, every failure, and every cover-up. We are not afraid to spend the funds to make sure history remembers exactly who you are and what you did.
We are done being silent.
— The Parents
**Originally published July 15, 2025. Updated July 16, 2025.**