Robin, Judy, there was a lot of gunfire at this scene. More than 50 shots were fired based on the number of evidence markers that we're seeing here on the ground. And we are told that there was a baby in the backseat of the victim's vehicle who fortunately was not hurt. The shooting happening around 1:30 this afternoon near 79th and May Street in the Auburn Gresham neighborhood. Police say a 26-year-old woman and a 27y old man were inside a white Chevy sedan when they were hit by gunfire. They then crashed their vehicle into a GMC van. Police say the female victim was shot multiple times and taken in critical condition to Little Company of Mary hospital and the male victim police say was shot in the buttocks and arm and is in good. >> You know, there are moments in life that divide everything into before and after. February 4th, 2026 was one of those days for the Auburn Gresham community on Chicago's South Side. It was a Wednesday afternoon just like any other. the kind of day where people are running errands, picking up groceries, maybe stopping by church. Nothing felt different. Nothing felt wrong. It was 1:25 in the afternoon on the 7900 block of South May Street. Folks were going about their business near St. Sabina Parish. Cars moving through traffic. People walking down sidewalks. Just another winter day in the neighborhood. The weather was ordinary. Everything seemed peaceful. There was no warning, no sign that in just moments everything would fall apart. And then it happened. Gunshots, not just one or two. We're talking about more than 50 rounds fired in broad daylight. 50 shots that echoed off the buildings and cars, turning an ordinary Wednesday into a nightmare. The sound alone would make your heart stop. Imagine being there, hearing that violence erupt around you when just seconds before everything was calm. This wasn't some accident. This wasn't random chaos. Surveillance cameras and people nearby captured what happened next. At least three shooters walked up to a white car, raised their weapons, and opened fire. They weren't shooting wildly into the air. No, this was focused. This was deliberate. Someone in that car was their target, and they didn't care who saw them or what happened around them. The gunfire was so intense that it transformed the whole block within seconds. One moment routine, the next moment crisis. people running for cover, the sound of glass shattering, metal being ripped apart by bullets. This was the kind of violence that leaves scars not just on the people who were there, but on an entire community. Inside that white sedan was a 26-year-old woman named Gabriel Ays. She was a mother, a hair stylist, someone's daughter, someone's friend. She had her whole life ahead of her. And in the backseat of that car, strapped into a car seat, was her one-year-old baby girl. Think about that for a moment. A baby, an innocent child who couldn't even understand what was happening. While her mother drove down a street, she probably traveled every day. Danger was coming for them, and there was nothing Gabrielle could do to stop it. This is the story of what happened that day. It's a story about a young woman whose life was stolen in broad daylight. It's about the baby who survived against all odds. It's about a community that's still searching for answers and still waiting for justice. And it's about the questions that still haunt everyone who heard about what happened on South Main Street. Because when 50 bullets tear through a car in the middle of the afternoon, you don't just lose one person. You lose a piece of everyone who knew her, everyone who loved her, and everyone who believes that life should mean more than this. Before we talk about how Gabriel Ays died, we need to talk about how she lived. Because she wasn't just a name in a police report. She wasn't just another statistic in Chicago's violence numbers. She was a real person with a real life and the people who knew her want the world to remember that Gabrielle was 26 years old. Let that sink in. 26. She should have had decades ahead of her. She should have watched her daughter grow up, go to school, graduate, maybe become a mother herself one day. But all of that was taken from her in less than a minute on South Main Street. She worked as a hair stylist right there in the community. You know what that means? It means people trusted her. They sat in her chair and let her work her magic on their hair. They talked to her about their lives, their problems, their joys. Hair stylists aren't just people who cut hair. They're confidants, counselors, friends. Gabrielle was part of the fabric of Auburn Gresham. She wasn't an outsider. She was one of them. And she was a mother. That one-year-old baby in the back seat, that was her whole world. Being a mom while working and trying to make ends meet isn't easy for anyone, but Gabrielle was doing it. She was balancing everything that young mothers have to balance. The sleepless nights, the daycare schedules, the bills, the hopes and dreams for her child's future. In the car with her that day was a 27year-old man. He survived the shooting. He was treated for his injuries at Christ Medical Center and made it through. Though I can only imagine the trauma he carries from that day. He was stable after treatment, but stable doesn't mean okay. It doesn't erase what he saw or what he experienced. The community knew Gabrielle. When news broke about the shooting, people didn't have to wait long to know who had been taken from them. They recognized her name immediately. They remembered her smile, her work, her presence in the neighborhood. This wasn't some stranger. This was their neighbor, their friend, someone who belonged to them. Her godfather, Pastor Kirk Bell, spoke out after the shooting. You could hear the pain and confusion in his words. He asked the question that everyone was thinking. Why would anyone fire more than 50 shots into a car with a baby inside? What kind of person does that? What could possibly justify that level of violence? Pastor Bell's questions echo what so many people feel. Even in a city that's seen too much gun violence, this felt different. This felt especially cruel because no matter what happened before that moment, no matter what conflict or anger or grudge might have existed, there was a baby in that car, an innocent child who had done nothing to anyone. Gabriel Ays was a working woman, a mother, and a member of her community. She deserved so much more than what happened to her on February 4th. Now, let me tell you what happened that afternoon, because understanding the violence is important to understanding why this case haunts so many people. Gabrielle was driving her white sedan down South Main Street. It should have been a normal drive. Maybe she was heading home. Maybe she was running an errand. Maybe she was going to pick something up for her baby. Whatever the reason, she was just driving through her own neighborhood in the middle of the day. That's when they came for her. According to the Chicago Police Department and witnesses who were there, at least three men approached the vehicle. They didn't sneak up in the dark. They didn't hide their faces well enough. They walked right up to that car in broad daylight, raised their guns, and started shooting. 50 shots. Think about how long it takes to fire 50 rounds. Think about the intent behind that. This wasn't a warning. This wasn't a scare tactic. This was an execution attempt, plain and simple. The bullets tore through the car's exterior, shattering every window, ripping through metal, destroying everything in their path. Witnesses recorded video of the attack. In today's world, someone always has a phone out, and this time was no different. The footage shows these men firing at the car, then running back to a red Alpha Romeo that was waiting for them. But they didn't just get in and drive away. No, they kept shooting. Even as they fled the scene, they continued firing their weapons. The attack was coordinated. It was planned. These weren't random shooters caught up in some spontaneous argument. They came there with a purpose, with weapons, with a getaway car, and they executed their plan without regard for anyone's life. The impact was immediate and devastating. Gabrielle was hit multiple times. With bullets tearing through her body, she lost control of the vehicle. The car crashed into a GMC van. Metal crunching, glass everywhere. The sound of the collision adding to the chaos of the gunfire. Emergency services rushed to the scene. Paramedics worked frantically. Gabrielle was transported to Little Company of Mary Hospital and doctors there did everything they could, but her injuries were too severe. She was pronounced dead. Just like that, a young mother's life was over. A daughter was gone, a goddaughter lost, a friend taken. The man who was with her, shot and bleeding, was taken to Christ Medical Center in Oak Lawn. Unlike Gabriel, he survived. His condition was stable after treatment, which in this context feels like a miracle. But survival doesn't mean escape. He'll carry the scars from that day, physical and emotional, for the rest of his life. And the baby, the one-year-old little girl strapped in her car seat in the back, she wasn't hit. Not a single bullet touched her with 50 rounds fired with bullets flying everywhere. Somehow that baby survived without a scratch. First responders found her there in the wreckage unharmed but surrounded by violence. When the gunfire stopped and the siren started, South May Street became a crime scene. Chicago police units and paramedics arrived within minutes. They found a scene of absolute devastation. Dozens of shell casings scattered across the pavement. a crashed car riddled with bullet holes and a community in shock. The police from the sixth district took charge of the investigation immediately. They began the careful work of documenting everything, photographing the scene, collecting evidence, mapping where each shell casing fell. They were looking for any clue that might lead them to the shooters. Detectives confirmed what witnesses already knew. Three men were involved. The surveillance footage and witness videos made that clear. These weren't ghosts or shadows. They were real people who could be identified, who could be caught, who could be brought to justice. But here's the painful truth. As of the last reports, no one had been arrested. The shooters were still out there. The Chicago Police Department put out a call for help. They asked anyone with information to come forward. They requested surveillance footage from businesses, from homes, from any camera that might have caught something useful. They needed the community's help, and they weren't shy about asking for it, and the community responded. Reverend Michael Fleger from St. Sabina Church stepped up and offered a $10,000 reward for information leading to an arrest. $10,000? That's not pocket change. That's serious money meant to motivate someone who knows something to finally speak up. But here's where it gets complicated. Despite all the evidence, the videos, the shell casings, the witnesses, the police still didn't have a confirmed motive. Why did this happen? Was it gang related? Was it mistaken identity? Was it retaliation for something? Nobody was saying, and maybe nobody knew for sure. Investigators used every tool they had. They checked the ballistic evidence against databases to see if the same guns had been used in other crimes. They used Chicago's Shot Spotter technology, which detects and locates gunfire automatically. They interviewed witnesses and canvas the neighborhood. They did everything by the book, but sometimes doing everything right still doesn't give you the answers you need. The motive remained a mystery. The suspects remained unidentified in any official capacity, and Gabrielle's family remained without justice. Meanwhile, that baby girl, the one who survived in the back seat, was taken into family custody after doctors checked her over. Physically, she was fine. Emotionally, who knows what a one-year-old remembers or understands, but she's alive, and for many people, that's the one piece of good news in this entire tragedy. The investigation remained active. Detectives continued working leads, following up on tips, trying to piece together the puzzle. They emphasized that they needed community cooperation. Anonymous tips were welcome. Any information, no matter how small it might seem, could be the piece that breaks the case wide open. But days turned into weeks and still no arrests. The questions remained unanswered and the community's frustration grew. Let me tell you something about Auburn Gresham and Chicago's Southside. This isn't the first time they've seen violence like this. It won't be the last. And that's the tragedy within the tragedy. Gabrielle's shooting, as horrific as it was, is part of a larger pattern. Gun violence on the south side is a persistent problem that doesn't have easy answers. Yes, there have been some improvements in recent years. Some crime statistics have gone down, but tell that to the families who've lost loved ones. Tell that to the communities who hear gunshots and don't even flinch anymore because they're so used to it. Auburn Gresham has seen multiple shootings over the years. Drive-bys in the middle of the day. Violence outside churches. Young lives cut short before they really began. The neighborhood has tried to fight back. Churches like St. Sabina have held gun buyback programs trying to get weapons off the street. Community leaders have organized, protested, and pleaded for change. But change is slow and violence is fast. After Gabriel's death, the community came together like they always do. There were prayer vigils. There were gatherings near the site where she was killed. Violence interrupters spoke. Elected officials spoke. Grassroots organizers spoke. Everyone was asking the same questions. How do we stop this? How do we protect our children? How do we make our streets safe? The mayor addressed the shooting. Community programs were discussed. There was talk of increased cooperation between police and residents, better surveillance, more violence prevention initiatives. All good ideas, but ideas that had been talked about before. And still, the violence continues. For Gabrielle's family, the pain is personal and permanent. Her daughter will grow up without her mother. That little girl will never remember the woman who gave birth to her, who loved her, who died trying to protect her. She'll only have stories and photos and the weight of a tragedy she didn't understand when it happened. The family is left with questions that may never be answered. Why, Gabriel? Why that day? Who were those men? and what did they want? And the hardest question of all, will they ever face justice? As I'm telling you this story, the case remains unsolved. The shooters haven't been caught. The motive hasn't been confirmed. Gabrielle's loved ones are still waiting for answers. Still waiting for someone to be held accountable. Still waiting for something that feels like justice. This is the reality of gun violence in Chicago. Cases don't always get solved quickly. Sometimes they don't get solved at all. Sometimes families wait years for closure that never comes. It's frustrating. It's heartbreaking. It's unacceptable. But Gabrielle's story matters. Her life matters. And as long as people keep telling her story, keep demanding answers, keep refusing to let her become just another statistic, there's hope that something will change because she deserved better. Her daughter deserves better. And every person in Auburn Gresham deserves to live without fear of being the next headline. That's the story of Gabriel Heirs.