Here is the face of my daughter, Ricquelle (Rici) Giannino, a beautiful soul we lost far too soon. 1992–2016.
In late February 2016, Rici met a man while she was in rehab. She had been struggling with an addiction to opiates, a painful consequence of the treatments she needed for her rare blood disease, TTP, and kidney disease. Her family had fought for so long to get her help, and finally, she entered a year-long rehab program. It was meant to be a safe place, a turning point—but life had other plans.
During her time in rehab, Rici met a man 19 years older than her. He was 41, court-ordered to rehab, and had a long history of violent behavior and criminal convictions. He had nearly beaten a man to death in a parking lot, claiming drug abuse as an excuse for his actions. Despite the danger he posed, he ended up in the same facility as Rici.
By April, Rici’s health had worsened. She became dependent on kidney dialysis three times a week. The rehab program, unable to accommodate her medical needs, discharged her. In that vulnerable moment, she leaned on her new acquaintance for guidance and support. But this man would become her greatest mistake. It wasn’t long before Rici realized how controlling, manipulative, and violent he truly was. She was scared, trapped, and unsure of how to escape.
In August, Rici came home to visit family. She finally confided in us about the abuse she had endured. Our first instinct was to remove her from the situation immediately—to pack her things and take her far away. But she begged us for time. She wanted out desperately but feared the consequences. Reluctantly, we gave her that time. Little did we know, it would become our biggest regret.
Two weeks later, Rici began her journey north, 300 miles away, to safety. She stopped along the way to visit her cousins. At 4:30 a.m., she left their home and headed to a local gas station. By 9:30 a.m. that Monday, our sweet girl was gone—killed by the man she thought she could escape.
Her illnesses had already made her life fragile. She needed a kidney transplant and battled TTP alongside her addiction. Her autopsy revealed blood clots in her brain and lungs. The tragic signs of abuse were clear: finger marks around her throat, bruises on her bicep and cheek, all within the last 24 hours of her life. To this day, we do not know exactly how she ended up with him or the precise moment she passed.
The man involved was never charged for her death. The police focused on his drug trafficking, which ultimately led to a federal conviction and a 12-year sentence in 2017. But for us, justice feels incomplete. Her phone had been factory reset after her death, her apartment smelled of bleach, and all her clothes were washed. He tried to hide her laptop and stole personal belongings. Evidence, along with our gut instincts, makes it clear he was not innocent—but no one held him accountable for taking her life.
We live every day with the weight of her absence. Her laughter, her spirit, her light—gone. And yet, her story must be shared.
I urge anyone reading this: report abuse the moment you become aware of it. Victims are often scared and unsure how to act, but safety must always come first. Talk to your local domestic violence shelter—men and women alike deserve protection.
Rici reached out because she feared for her family’s safety if she left him. Nobody should have to live in that fear. Please share her story to raise awareness. Help prevent another life from being lost.
