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Julie Miller pleaded guilty and is serving a sentence of 15 years to life in prison. Donna Stone was convicted this week by a Boone County jury and granted mercy, making her eligible for parole after 15 years. Formal sentencing is scheduled for December. Jerry Stone faced similar charges but was found incompetent to stand trial and committed to a mental health facility.
These were the adults responsible for the welfare of Kyneddi Miller, the 14-year-old girl from Morrisvale, Boone County, who died of severe malnutrition in April 2024. Her body was found in an emaciated, skeletal state.
Justice served?
Perhaps. It may not feel like justice, although what would? The criminal justice system has held two of the adults responsible under the laws that govern us; the third likely faces life insitutionalized.
But another question of accountability remains unresolved: What responsibility does the State of West Virginia bear for failing to recognize, investigate or intervene in the circumstances surrounding Kyneddi’s death?
In 2023, State Police visited the girl’s home following concerns about her prolonged isolation. Kyneddi reportedly had not left the home for years, a circumstance attributed during Donna Stone’s trial to the child’s fear of COVID.
What happened next raises troubling questions.
Troopers reportedly visited a local Department of Human Services office, but no formal Child Protective Services referral was documented. Investigators concluded that an informal disclosure likely occurred, although the workers involved did not recall the conversation.
How could concerns about an isolated child reach the attention of law enforcement without producing a documented referral for evaluation by child welfare professionals?
And what safeguards existed to prevent such a breakdown?
Beyond that encounter, Kyneddi had been withdrawn from traditional schooling. Required homeschool assessments reportedly were not submitted to Boone County Schools, raising additional questions about oversight and whether warning signs should have prompted intervention.
More questions. More uncertainty. More potential gaps in a system intended to protect vulnerable children.
Public scrutiny of CPS, the school system and state government was intense when Kyneddi’s death first became public. Rightfully so.
Over time, attention understandably shifted toward the criminal proceedings against the adults responsible for her care.
But with those proceedings nearing their conclusion, the focus must return to the institutions that may have missed opportunities to intervene.
The central questions remain remarkably simple: Why did the system fail to identify a child in danger, where did its safeguards break down, and what has changed to prevent another tragedy?
Perhaps state leaders have thoroughly examined those questions. Perhaps meaningful corrective actions are underway.
But the public should not be expected to assume progress without evidence. The burden of competence rests with government, not the citizenry.
Where is the comprehensive, case-specific review documenting how the state’s child protection processes were supposed to function, what actually happened in Kyneddi’s case, where the two diverged, and what corrective actions have been implemented?
What evidence demonstrates that those corrective actions are working?
Kyneddi died during former Governor Jim Justice’s administration. That is an important matter of historical accountability.
But Governor Patrick Morrisey inherited responsibility for the state’s child welfare system when he took office. The obligation to identify failures, implement reforms and demonstrate results now rests with his administration.
Yet stakeholders say they cannot identify a publicly available, comprehensive after-action report devoted specifically to Kyneddi Miller’s case. Extensive searching failed to reveal one available for public viewing online.
That does not mean nothing has been done; some things have.
State Police have reinforced requirements that suspected abuse or neglect be formally reported through the designated CPS hotline rather than through informal conversations.
The Legislature created a Critical Incident Review Team to examine child fatalities and near fatalities. But lawmakers expressed considerable frustration with the limited information contained in its initial report. Even an expanded version left important questions unanswered.
The state has also introduced a differentiated response approach to better triage and manage the substantial volume of child welfare referrals, although aspects of that effort have drawn legislative scrutiny.
These are meaningful steps. But adopting new procedures is not the same as demonstrating that those procedures work or would have worked.
A policy change is not proof of a problem solved.
And until the state can show that failures have been identified, corrective measures implemented and outcomes independently evaluated, there remains legitimate reason to question whether other vulnerable children are exposed to similar risks.
That is not an accusation that every child welfare employee failed Kyneddi. Nor does it diminish the criminal responsibility of the adults who cared for her.
It is a recognition that institutional accountability cannot end where criminal accountability begins.
Governor Morrisey’s administration should provide lawmakers and the public with a comprehensive accounting of what went wrong, what has changed and how the state knows those changes are effective.
Protecting confidential information about vulnerable children need not prevent meaningful public accountability.
Kyneddi Miller is lost. But the state can still demonstrate that it has learned from her death.
Two adults have been held criminally accountable; the other most likely institutionalized for the rest of his life. The question now is whether West Virginia will hold its institutions accountable, too.