DEVELOPING STORY 🔎 Police said the trash can at the home of 12-year-old Jacqueline “Mimi” Torres-Garcia at 80 Clark Street in New Britain, Connecticut, was discovered after the family moved from Farmington in March 2025; inside was a bracelet and the initials “M” were found engraved on the bottom of the can – small evidence but enough to raise a big question.
NEW BRITAIN, Conn. (WTNH) — New Britain school officials said the mother charged in 12-year-old Jacqueline Torres-Garcia‘s death pulled her daughter out of school last year.
They said her mother, Karla Garcia, had withdrawn her from the school district in August 2024, which would have been her first day of sixth grade.
“When kids are not going to school every day, sometimes we can lose track of them,” Gov. Ned Lamont (D-Conn.) said. “I wanna work again with the legislature to see how we can do a better job making sure some of these kids that aren’t going to school every day, almost like an early warning system.”
Read Consolidated School District of New Britain’s full statement below:
We are deeply saddened by the tragic death of Jacqueline Torres-Garcia, a former student who had been withdrawn from the Consolidated School District of New Britain in August 2024. Jacqueline Torres-Garcia attended kindergarten through fifth grade in New Britain. On August 26, 2024, which would have been Jacqueline’s first day of sixth grade, her mother, Karla Garcia, filed an official Notification of Withdrawal Out of New Britain School District form stating that the student’s new address would be in Farmington. On that same day, Garcia filed a Notice of Intent: Instruction of Student at Home form with the district.
We will continue to partner with local and state law enforcement to seek justice for Jacqueline Torres-Garcia.
Officials with the Farmington Public Schools said that while Torres-Garcia’s family previously lived in the town, the girl was never enrolled in the school district.
It is with profound sorrow to learn that the remains of a young child found outside an abandoned house in New Britain belonged to Jacqueline “Mimi” Torres-Garcia, whose family previously resided in Farmington. While Mimi was homeschooled by her mother and never enrolled in the Farmington Public Schools, this tragic and heartbreaking news affects our entire community, our neighboring community, New Britain, and beyond. We extend our deepest sympathy to Mimi’s loved ones and friends both near and far.
We understand that this news is incredibly difficult to process. We want to assure our community that support is available. Our school counselors and mental health personnel are available to provide assistance to students, staff, and families who may need help coping with this unimaginable tragedy. We encourage our school district community to reach out to their school Principal if they have any questions or need support.
We extend our appreciation to law enforcement and other state and local agencies who have been working tirelessly on behalf of Jacqueline “Mimi” Torres-Garcia and her loved ones, friends and communities.
Again, please join us, the Farmington Public Schools, in extending our hearts and sincerest condolences to all who knew and loved Jacqueline “Mimi” Torres-Garcia.
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As the investigation into the heartbreaking death of 12-year-old Jacqueline “Mimi” Torres-Garcia deepens, a seemingly innocuous detail has emerged from the shadows of 80 Clark Street in New Britain, Connecticut: a trash can bearing the engraved initials “M.” Discovered in the wake of the family’s abrupt departure from their Farmington home in March 2025, this humble household item—left behind like so much discarded debris—now stands as a haunting breadcrumb in a trail of deception. Inside the can, police report finding a delicate bracelet, its presence raising urgent questions about the final days of a girl who endured unimaginable torment. Was it Mimi’s? A parting gift? Or a careless slip that could seal the fate of those who concealed her fate? This small evidence, detailed in freshly unsealed search warrants, has ignited fresh scrutiny, transforming a routine disposal site into a forensic Rosetta Stone.
The grim discovery at the derelict property on Clark Street unfolded on October 8, 2025, when an anonymous tipster alerted New Britain authorities to suspicious activity at the long-vacant home. Officers, braced for urban decay or squatter remnants, instead pried open a blue plastic storage bin tucked behind the structure, revealing the mummified remains of a child—bound with zip ties, shrouded in trash bags, and weighing a mere 42 pounds. Autopsy results swiftly confirmed the victim as Jacqueline “Mimi” Torres-Garcia, a vibrant girl whose life had been snuffed out by starvation and blunt force trauma sometime in the fall of 2024, months before her body was abandoned like yesterday’s waste.
Now, as affidavits paint a fuller picture of the crime scene, the trash can enters the narrative as an unlikely protagonist. According to warrants obtained by NBC Connecticut, investigators combing the property noted the container amid piles of household refuse—faded fast-food wrappers, crumpled mail, and the detritus of a hasty move. Etched subtly on its base were the letters “M,” possibly a monogram or manufacturer’s mark, but in the context of the case, a chilling coincidence at best. Nestled within: a thin silver bracelet, unadorned save for a single charm shaped like a heart. No fingerprints yet identified, no DNA traces confirmed, but its discovery has prosecutors buzzing. “It’s the kind of overlooked item that families personalize without thought,” Farmington Detective Elena Vasquez told reporters off-record. “If this links back to Mimi, it’s damning—proof they brought pieces of her life to the site of her disposal.”
The timeline underscores the audacity of the cover-up. Mimi’s family—mother Karla Garcia, 29; aunt Jackelyn Garcia, 28; and Karla’s boyfriend Jonatan Nanita, 30—fled Farmington under the cover of night in early March 2025, relocating to a cramped apartment in New Britain. Warrants allege the trio had stored Mimi’s remains in the basement freezer of their Farmington rental since her death, purportedly in September 2024, before transferring the bin to Clark Street upon eviction fears. The trash can, sourced from a discount store chain per purchase records subpoenaed from Nanita’s phone, was among the “essentials” packed for the move—ironic, given its role in the aftermath. Neighbors recall the family’s hurried loading of a U-Haul, oblivious to the horror within. “They seemed stressed, like any folks down on their luck,” said retiree Maria Lopez, who lives two doors down. “Never imagined…” Her voice trailed off at the memorial now blooming with balloons and stuffed animals outside the forsaken house.
Forensic teams, undeterred by the elements that had weathered the site, cataloged every scrap. The bracelet, measuring 6 inches in circumference—suitable for a child’s wrist—bears microscopic scratches suggesting wear, perhaps from playful tugs during recess or bedtime stories long past. Lab analysis, ongoing at the Connecticut State Police Forensic Laboratory, aims to match it against jewelry inventoried from the family’s seized belongings. Early whispers suggest it aligns with a “best friend” set Garcia purchased for Mimi’s 11th birthday, per bank statements. If verified, it could corroborate witness accounts of the girl’s final weeks: confined to a corner on absorbent pads, fed sporadically as “discipline” for minor infractions, her pleas drowned out by the hum of the freezer that became her tomb.
Karla Garcia’s confession, extracted during a marathon interrogation on October 13, adds layers of revulsion. “She was bad, needed tough love,” the mother allegedly admitted, describing how Nanita enforced the deprivations—two weeks without sustenance, culminating in collapse. Jackelyn Garcia, the aunt, confessed to driving the bin to Clark Street under cover of darkness, parking haphazardly and fleeing without a backward glance. “I thought it’d be quick, like burying a pet,” she reportedly sobbed. The engraved “M” on the trash can? Investigators theorize it was a thrift-store find, customized impulsively by Karla during a rare moment of maternal sentiment—perhaps envisioning it for Mimi’s room, only to repurpose it for refuse. Its placement near the bin suggests it held overflow from the disposal: soiled clothes, perhaps a favorite toy, the bracelet slipping free in the chaos.
This revelation amplifies the big question gnawing at the public: How did a child’s vanishing go unnoticed? Mimi’s homeschool enrollment in August 2024—a legal pivot after her abrupt withdrawal from public school—shielded the abuse from prying eyes. Victor Torres, the estranged father, had begged for visits around her January 29 birthday, only to be ghosted. “That ‘M’—it’s like she’s screaming from the trash,” Torres told WFSB in a tear-streaked exclusive, clutching a photo of his “little dancer.” Great-aunt Erica Nieves echoed the anguish: “Mimi loved her bracelets, jingling them to Bad Bunny tunes. To think one ended up there… it’s profane.”
The Department of Children and Families (DCF), already reeling from the January 2025 video call fiasco—where a stand-in child masqueraded as Mimi—faces intensified backlash. Newly released timelines show DCF’s last in-person contact was a glowing home visit in June 2024, endorsing Karla’s custody. “We trusted the facade,” admitted Interim Commissioner Susan Hamilton in a contrite briefing. The bracelet could tip the scales in civil suits brewing from Torres and advocates, alleging negligence. “This isn’t just evidence; it’s emblematic of overlooked cries,” said child welfare expert Dr. Lena Marquez of Yale’s Child Study Center. Echoes resound from cases like the Turpin family’s California captivity, where homeschooling veils enabled horror.
Legislative ripples accelerate. Governor Ned Lamont, nominating Christina Ghio as Child Advocate amid the uproar, unveiled a $15 million initiative for AI-driven anomaly detection in welfare files—flagging patterns like sudden address changes or accessory anomalies in inventories. Bipartisan caucuses debate mandating serial-number tracking on household goods in high-risk homes, a nod to the trash can’s “M.” “No detail too small when a child’s life hangs in the balance,” thundered Sen. Bob Duff at a packed hearing. Public vigils swell, #MimisMark trending as artisans craft replica bracelets for auction, proceeds funding sibling therapy.
In court, the accused huddle: Karla’s $5 million bond holds firm, Nanita’s arraignment looms November 5, Jackelyn’s cruelty charge tests family loyalty. The bracelet, now under glass in an evidence locker, awaits its moment—perhaps in a trial where pixels from the fake call meet metal engravings. For now, at 80 Clark Street, the wind whispers through weeds, carrying the weight of what was left behind. Mimi Torres-Garcia, reduced to initials on a can, demands not just justice, but a reckoning: How many more “M”s must we engrave before we listen?
