Birthday to you. Happy birthday, Sirena. Happy birthday to you. She called 911 and said, "My children are dead." When police arrived, 31-year-old Elaine Campione opened the door and said, "They're on my bed." Inside were her daughters, Sirena, 3, and Sophia, 19 months, lying side-by-side in clean pajamas and tiny jewelry. No signs of struggle, but a camcorder revealed it all. One tape showed a birthday celebration. What is it? It's a bike. Another showed Elaine crying, speaking about abuse and how no one helped. Yes, this is the deplorable, horrible, messy, filthy apartment that supposedly my two children and I live in. I think Diego Campione is totally in the wrong and I hope he burns in hell for all his sins, the same as Leonardo. All I wanted to do is take care of my two little girls and live happily ever after. In her final recording, she appeared shattered, lost, and blaming the system for everything that happened. Everything's gone. Gone. You wouldn't give peace. You wouldn't tell the truth. I begged. You wouldn't Stacy not believing me, telling her I didn't have the signed papers when I didn't. I don't remember. I have videotape. I keep telling them. I was videotaping my my 2-year-old signing I love you. And then I went and I was singing "Twinkle, twinkle, little star." We were cuddling with me. Mhm. And Sophia had weird-colored lips. Mhm. And that's when I thought there's something wrong. And I looked at Sophia, Sirena, and she was looking weird, too.