He laughed in court. His name is Kendrick Morris. He was only 16 when he attacked 18-year-old Queen of Wong outside a public library in Florida. She had just graduated high school, full of plans for college and a bright future ahead. It was April 24th, 2008. She was walking toward the library that night, just planning to return a book. As she got closer, she noticed a man sitting alone on the bench near the entrance. She was on the phone with a friend talking about weekend plans when she mentioned seeing a man nearby. Moments later, her friend heard her scream, then silence. >> She um had mentioned on the phone that there was a weird looking guy sitting on a bench and then um I heard I heard the scream and the phone just went down. >> When officers arrived, they found Quina's car still running. Her shoes and belongings were scattered on the ground. The trail behind the building showed there had been a struggle and that's where they found her. That's what her friend said in the court. >> What happened? But then the phone cut off. So um need a minute. There was blood on the floor and the door was her the driver's side door was open and then her phone was like into underneath kind of underneath the car. She was barely alive, severely injured and unrecognizable. Her skull had been fractured, and doctors said if she survived, she'd never walk or talk again. But she did survive, though her body never fully recovered. The investigation began immediately. Detectives collected DNA, fingerprints, and other evidence that led them straight to one person, Kendrick Morris. Just a year earlier, Morris had attacked another woman working at a daycare. He was already on probation but clearly hadn't changed. >> I reached back to close the door. I saw this person came up. He had a ski mask on and some gloves. His left hand caught the door and his right hand had a knife. >> When police questioned him, he acted calm, almost confident. He denied everything. But the forensic evidence told a different story. He was charged with kidnapping, aggravated battery, and attempted homicide. And when the trial began in 2011, Quina's family sat just a few feet away from the teenager who had taken everything from her. >> She said to me, "Why can't I see? I'm so itchy everywhere. Can you scratch me? I can't move. What happened to me?" I told her a very bad person had attacked her. >> She then asked me, "Did they catch him?" >> The prosecutors walked the court through every detail of what had happened that night. >> Don't be shy. We need to know what you're thinking, what you're feeling. Uh, and the idea, of course, at the end of all this is that we're going to try to seat as fair a jury as possible. >> The trauma, the pain, and the lifelong damage to Queen's health. And through it all, Morris showed no emotion. He was 16 and believed the law would protect him. His lawyer told him that since the victim was still alive, he couldn't face life in prison. But Judge Chad Tharp wasn't having it. Then he handed down the maximum punishment allowed under Florida law, 65 years in prison. And in that moment, Morris's smile disappeared. After the trial, Quina's mother said she finally felt a glimpse of justice. But her daughter would never get her life back. Quina spent months in the hospital and years in therapy. She can't walk, talk, or see. She communicates through sounds, tiny movements, and expressions. She's still fully conscious, trapped inside a body that won't respond. Her care costs over $80,000 a year. Her mom, Ivonne, became her full-time caregiver. >> Start walking. Okay. Move that right foot. >> Right leg. There you go. Come on, Quina. >> They turned their home into a space for medical care and therapy. But despite everything, Quina continues to fight. She smiles when people visit. She reacts to music, and she's made small steps of progress, tiny victories that mean everything to her family. The community rallied around her. >> But it it really is heartwarming to see the community rally around her. >> The join Queen Foundation to help cover medical expenses. People from across the country donated, sent letters, and followed her recovery online. Every blink, every sound, every smile became a sign of hope. But while Queen fought to live, Morris fought to get out. His lawyers appealed the sentence, saying it was too harsh for a minor. Around that time, the US Supreme Court had changed how juvenile sentencing worked. In 2010, Graham vers. Florida ruled that minors who commit serious non-homicide crimes can't receive life without parole. Then in 2012, Miller versus Alabama said mandatory life sentences for juveniles are unconstitutional. And in 2016, another case made those rulings retroactive, meaning even old sentences could be challenged. Because of those rulings, Morris got another hearing in 2017. His defense argued that he changed, that he deserved a chance to rebuild his life someday. Psychologists spoke about his tough childhood and potential for reform, but Quina's family sat through it all again, forced to hear his name and relive their trauma >> that day. And um but it just is just a reminder that of how horrific the crime was. >> When it was his turn to speak, Morris said nothing. No apology, no remorse. Judge Tharp listened carefully then made his decision. He resentenced Morris to life in prison with a review possible after 25 years. That means technically Morris could be considered for release around 237, but most people believe that will never happen. >> Life sentences are the only appropriate sentences in this case. I have come to accept our situation, but I will never accept letting this person go free ever. If my daughter cannot get a rest sentencing, he shouldn't either. He should stay in death for life. >> These crimes were particularly atrocious and cruel. >> Today, Queen is in her 30s. She's still unable to move or speak, but she's alive and still fighting. Her mom calls her a miracle in motion. She continues therapy everyday, surrounded by love and support. As for Morris, he's still behind bars serving his life sentence. He once believed that being 16 made him untouchable, that his age would protect him. Now, every day of his life is spent inside a cell paying for what he did. Two lives were changed that night, one innocent, one guilty. But only one deserves a second chance. So, what do you think? Was justice served or should someone who destroys another person's life ever get another shot at freedom, no matter how young they were? >> Lift us up and keep going every day. And and we we we really need. >> The truth is her recovery costs a lot. Therapy, equipment, and constant care. and her family has carried that weight for over 15 years. There's an official website run by her family called joinquina.com. That's ji nquina.com. It's the only verified place where donations go directly to her care and recovery. Even the smallest support, a share, a comment, or a few dollars makes a difference. Because while Kendrick Morris sits behind bars for what he did, Quina keeps fighting to live. Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday, dear. Happy birthday to you. to be going