Marco M. Lugo, 19, male, was riding with others in a white GMC Yukon in the early morning hours when a simple night out in Kansas City, Missouri turned into something irreversible. It was the kind of hour when the city feels half-asleep and half-alive, when music still lingers in the air and headlights slide across emptier streets. The Yukon had just pulled away from a nightclub, the group likely expecting nothing more than the last leg of the night—getting home, shaking off the noise, letting
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