After nearly two years of dread, speculation, and raw grief, the shocking murder case that gripped the nation has come to an unexpected close. Bryan Kohberger — the man accused of brutally killing four University of Idaho students in their off-campus home — will never face a jury. Instead, on July 2, he pleaded guilty to the murders in exchange for avoiding the death penalty.
With a judge’s approval of the plea deal, Kohberger will spend the rest of his life in prison — four consecutive life sentences, no chance of parole, no chance of appeal. For the legal system, the case is over. But for the victims’ families, closure remains as elusive as ever. The decision to accept a plea agreement split the families of Madison Mogen, Kaylee Goncalves, Xana Kernodle, and Ethan Chapin. Some called it mercy — a path toward healing without the agonizing spectacle of a public trial. Others felt robbed of a chance at true justice.
Kaylee Goncalves’ father, Steve Goncalves, has been among the most vocal critics of the deal. Speaking to NewsNation, he condemned it as a betrayal of the family’s wishes: “This is anything but justice. This is the opposite of our will.” For him, only a jury’s verdict — and the possibility of the death penalty — would have felt like real accountability.
Yet not every parent agreed. Outside the Idaho courthouse, Madison Mogen’s parents spoke through their lawyer, Leander James, voicing full support for the plea. “We embark on a new path,” James said. “A path of hope and healing.” If the split reactions feel confusing, that’s because grief never looks the same for everyone. Psychotherapists say traumatic loss shatters any expectation of a single “right way” to cope — especially when the crime is so brutal and the victims so young.
“You feel powerless when you already lost people that you love and had this egregious thing happen,” explains Marni Feuerman, a trauma therapist. “You’re looking for an opportunity to feel like at least there was some punishment and some justice.”
But what justice looks like depends on who’s looking for it. For some, a lengthy trial — with the suspect forced to answer for every detail — can feel like reclaiming power. For others, it’s an unwanted nightmare that reopens wounds, puts private pain under the public microscope, and delays the chance to grieve in peace.
“Rehashing something this horrific can retraumatize people,” says therapist Philip Lewis. “Some families want it to be over. They want the nightmare behind them so they can process their loss privately.” There was no guarantee a trial would bring closure. A high-profile proceeding would have meant months, if not years, of reliving grisly details — testimony, photos, arguments. A guilty verdict could still have been appealed, dragging families back to court over and over.
Instead, Kohberger will now spend the rest of his life behind bars, with no chance of parole. The question is whether that feels like enough for the people left behind.
“This loss never goes away,” Lewis says. “There’s no resolving it. The best you can do is find ways to grieve, express your pain, and keep your loved one’s memory alive.” Mental health experts stress that there’s no script for families shattered by murder. Some may find a measure of peace in the finality of Kohberger’s plea. Others may forever wish for a day in court they’ll now never have. All of it, therapists say, is valid.
“Unless someone has been through that, it’s very hard to understand the depth of that,” says psychotherapist Stephanie Sarkis. “That’s a level of grief few people ever experience. These families deserve compassion — not judgment.” In the end, the case that once dominated headlines is over — at least on paper. But for four families in Idaho, the search for peace and healing is only just beginning.
