She was everything to me. It was just us against the world.
Tejada and girlfriend Kensly Alston squatted in vacant apartment, killed returning tenant, hid body in closet bag, then stole her car and credit card. Victim's son discovered mother's body after concerned friend alerted him; couple arrested week later in Pennsylvania following car accident.
- Halley Tejada, 19, sentenced to 20 years to life for beating Nadia Vitels, 52, to death in March 2024
- Tejada and girlfriend Kensly Alston, 18, were illegally occupying the vacant Manhattan apartment when Vitels returned
- Body hidden in canvas bag in front hall closet; couple stole victim's Lexus and credit card, arrested in Pennsylvania one week later
Halley Tejada was sentenced to 20 years to life for beating to death Nadia Vitels, 52, in her Manhattan apartment he was illegally occupying with his girlfriend in March 2024.
Halley Tejada was 19 years old when he and his girlfriend Kensly Alston, 18, decided to move into an apartment in Manhattan's Kips Bay neighborhood that did not belong to them. The building's unit had sat empty for months after its previous tenant died. They settled in quietly, illegally, waiting to see if anyone would notice. In March 2024, someone did. Nadia Vitels, 52, returned to the apartment she had recently rented—a fresh start, a new chapter. Tejada and Alston were there. What happened next was brutal. They beat her to death inside her own home, then wrapped her body in a canvas bag and shoved it into the front hall closet, burying her under a pile of clothes.
On Tuesday, a Manhattan court sentenced Tejada to between 20 years and life in prison. He had pleaded guilty in December to the killing. His girlfriend has maintained her innocence; her case remains pending, though she faces charges including murder, breaking and entering, robbery, concealing a human corpse, grand larceny, and criminal possession of stolen property.
Misha Vitels, Nadia's only child, was at work when a family friend texted him in a panic. His mother wasn't answering calls—unusual for her, he explained to the court before sentencing. He began calling frantically through his network of family and friends. No one had heard from her in days. When he finally entered the apartment, the scene told a story of violence and abandonment. Clothes lay scattered across the floor near the entrance closet. In the living room, his mother's dog sat alone, the floor stained with dried urine. A massive crack and hole scarred the wall near the bedroom door. Her laptop was gone. Her luggage was gone. The things she had just moved in with were gone. "My mind was racing," he recounted to the court, his voice steady with the weight of memory. "Had she run away? Had she hurt herself? Had she taken her own life? I searched the bedroom very carefully, but I was shaking from head to toe. I was terrified of what I might find."
He found her in the closet—his mother, wrapped in canvas, hidden beneath clothes.
After killing Vitels, Tejada and Alston did not flee quietly. They stole her Lexus from the street outside the building and drove it north. The car was caught on video. A week later, after the vehicle was involved in an accident in Pennsylvania, both were arrested. Police also discovered that they had used Vitels's stolen credit card to purchase a diamond ring, sealing their engagement with money taken from the woman they had killed.
Manhattan District Attorney Alvin Bragg released a statement after sentencing. "Nadia Vitels was about to begin a new chapter in her life when Halley Tejada murdered her brutally in the very apartment she was moving into," he said. "Tejada has been sentenced to between 20 years and life in a state prison for his abhorrent and fatal conduct. My thoughts are with Mrs. Vitels's loved ones, who continue to grieve her painful loss. I know this sentence will not bring her back, but I hope it can provide them some measure of comfort."
Misha Vitels had described his family to the court in simpler terms. "It was just us against the world," he said. "We were a small, very close-knit family. She was everything to me." The sentence does not change that. It does not restore what was taken. It only marks, in the formal language of the law, that a young man beat a woman to death in her own home, and that the cost of that act will be measured in decades.
Citas Notables
Nadia Vitels was about to begin a new chapter in her life when Halley Tejada murdered her brutally in the very apartment she was moving into.— Manhattan District Attorney Alvin Bragg
It was just us against the world. We were a small, very close-knit family. She was everything to me.— Misha Vitels, victim's son, to the court
La Conversación del Hearth Otra perspectiva de la historia
Why does this case matter beyond the immediate tragedy? What does it tell us about the city right now?
It's about vulnerability meeting opportunity. An empty apartment, two teenagers with nothing to lose, a woman returning home alone. The systems that should have protected that space—the building, the landlord, the city—had already failed. She was moving into a place that had been abandoned.
The son's account of finding her is extraordinarily detailed. Why do you think he chose to speak that way in court?
He was testifying not just to a judge but to the record. He needed the court to understand what he experienced—not just the fact of her death, but the terror of not knowing, the slow realization as he walked through that apartment. That specificity is a kind of witness.
They used her credit card to buy an engagement ring. That detail seems almost incomprehensible.
It's the thing that reveals the complete absence of remorse or reality. They didn't flee in shame. They celebrated. They were living in the apartment, wearing her jewelry, driving her car. They had already begun remaking her life as their own.
The girlfriend maintains innocence. How does that complicate the story?
It doesn't resolve it. She's still facing the same charges. But it means the full picture of what happened in that apartment—who did what, who knew what—remains incomplete. The court will have to determine that.
What happens to the son now?
He lives with the knowledge that his mother was alone in a place she thought was safe, and that he found her. That doesn't end with a sentence. That's the part the law cannot address.