On November 2, 2023, Abigaíl’s parents visited the cemetery for the first time to lay flowers on her grave. They never imagined that on Good Friday of 2023, they would be called to identify her remains, following her capture in April 2022, which they regard as arbitrary.
Karen Abigaíl Escobar was 21 when she died. The last time her parents saw her was one month before her death. They say she was fine, that she did not appear ill, and they cannot understand why her health deteriorated so quickly. They were told she had undergone surgery, but to this day, they do not know what the procedure was for.
“No parent wants to lay flowers on a daughter’s grave. My wife begins to cry, but I try to be strong for her because I cannot cry alongside her. It is hard to lay flowers on the grave of a daughter who was innocent and who was wrongfully taken away under this regime,” says her father, who requested anonymity for fear of reprisals.
Six months after this news outlet’s first visit to Karen Abigaíl’s family, her bed remains untouched. There are stuffed animals, her school notebooks, photographs, and several personal items. Her family refuses to disturb anything. They still struggle to come to terms with the fact that she will not be coming back.
“With each passing day, I feel her presence more. I recently dreamed she was working with us. Her memory will endure for a lifetime, and I will never remove her from my heart,” her father says.
It is the father who speaks about the case because the mother finds it too difficult to speak of Karen. It causes her immense pain. “I cannot bring her back to life. They have already taken her from me, and I can do nothing to bring her back,” she says with resignation. She also does not want to reveal her name because she is afraid.
“We are filled with sorrow because we do not have her by our side. As a father, I miss her dearly. I feel as if a part of my body has been torn away; my daughter was my right hand. I want justice so that other families do not go through what is happening to us,” he asserts.
Both parents lament that they were never informed of their daughter’s medical condition, which remains unclear to them. They assert that they would have done “whatever it took” to bring her the medication she needed to survive.
“She had surgery on her head, but without our consent, and we question what was done to her,” they relate.
They state that the doctor had no answer when Karen’s mother asked why she was never notified. “He just lowered his head and remained silent,” they recall about the day of her death.
They vividly remember the last time they saw their daughter alive, one month before she passed away. They were able to see her because some people recognized her at the San Juan de Dios hospital in Santa Ana. Upon arriving at the hospital, they saw their daughter from a distance with other inmates awaiting a medical consultation. Although they wanted to speak with her, the guards would not permit it, and their daughter also motioned for them not to approach.
They say they could see she was afraid and did not want to get her into trouble. Her father was only able to hand her a drink. Both parents stood mere steps away from her, yet they could only gaze upon her. Though they longed to embrace her, they could not, and they chose to leave before anyone reprimanded her.
They relate that the medical examiner who performed the autopsy told them she died from an infection, about which they still have no further details. They only remember that the casket was sealed before it was delivered to the funeral home. They were not even able to see her one last time. Her parents and sister were also denied a final embrace.
Abigaíl recibió flores en su tumba por primera vez
El 2 de noviembre de 2025 fue la primera vez que los padres de Abigaíl llegaron al cementerio para poner flores en su tumba. Jamás se imaginaron que el Viernes Santo de 2025 les llamarían para reconocer sus restos, después de su captura en abril de 2022 y que ellos consideran arbitraria.
Karen Abigaíl Escobar tenía 21 años cuando murió. La última vez que sus padres la vieron fue un mes antes de su fallecimiento. Dicen que estaba bien, que no parecía enferma y no se explican por qué desmejoró tan rápido. Les dijeron que la habían operado, pero hasta el momento ellos desconocen de qué.
“Ningún padre quiere ir a enflorar a una hija. Mi esposa se pone a llorar, pero yo le doy ánimo porque no puedo ponerme a llorar a la par de ella. Es duro enflorar a una hija que era inocente y que por este régimen erróneamente la vinieron a traer”, dice su padre, quien prefirió el anonimato por temor a represalias.
Seis meses después de la primera visita que este medio hizo a la familia de Karen Abigaíl, su cama sigue igual. Hay peluches, sus cuadernos de estudios, sus fotografías y varios artículos personales. Su familia no quiere mover nada. Aún les cuesta asimilar que ella no volverá.
“Entre más días pasan, más tengo la presencia de ella. Hace poco soñé que trabajaba con nosotros. El recuerdo de ella va a prevalecer toda la vida y de mi corazón nunca lo voy a sacar”, dice su padre.
El señor es el que habla del caso porque a la madre le cuesta hablar de Karen. Siente mucho dolor cuando lo hace. “Ya no puedo revivirla, ya me la quitaron y no puedo hacer nada para traerla de vuelta”, dice con resignación. Ella tampoco quiere revelar su nombre porque tiene miedo.
“Sentimos tristeza porque no la tenemos a nuestro lado y como padre me hace falta bastante, pues siento que me han quitado una parte de mi cuerpo, era mi mano derecha mi hija. Quisiera justicia para que otros familiares no pasen lo mismo que nos está sucediendo a nosotros”, asevera.
Ambos padres lamentan que nunca fueron informados de la situación médica que padecía su hija y que hasta el momento no la saben con claridad. Ellos afirman que pudieron haber hecho “hasta lo imposible” por llevarle los medicamentos necesarios para que sobreviviera.
“A ella le operaron la cabeza, pero sin ningún consentimiento de nosotros y dudamos de qué le hicieron”, relatan.
Afirman que el médico no supo qué responder cuando la madre de Karen le preguntó por qué nunca le avisaron. “Él solo bajaba la cabeza y se quedaba callado”, recuerdan sobre el día de su muerte.
Tienen muy presente la última vez que vieron a su hija con vida, un mes antes de que falleciera. Pudieron hacerlo porque algunas personas la reconocieron en el hospital San Juan de Dios de Santa Ana. Al llegar al hospital vieron de lejos a su hija junto a otras reas pasando consulta y aunque quisieron hablar con ella, la custodia no se los permitió, aparte que su hija les hacía señas de que no se acercaran.
Dicen que le vieron cierto temor y no quisieron meterla en problemas. Su padre solo pudo entregarle una bebida. Ambos padres estuvieron a escasos pasos de ella, pero solo podían verla. Aunque querían abrazarla, no pudieron y prefirieron irse antes de que le dijeran algo a ella.
Relatan que el forense que practicó la autopsia a su hija les dijo que falleció por una infección, de la cual hasta el momento no saben mayor detalle. Solo recuerdan que la caja la sellaron antes de entregarla a la funeraria. Ni siquiera pudieron verla por última vez. Sus padres y hermana tampoco pudieron darle el último abrazo.