Marcel Winatschek

The BTS Hoodie

She was wearing a pink plush jacket, a white hoodie with "BTS" and "Rap Monster" on it, jeans with torn knees, black-and-white Vans, and a large beige-pink bag. A red backpack. The specificity of that description is the thing that stays with you—that’s not the description of a case, it’s the description of a Tuesday morning.

Rebecca Reusch was fifteen when she disappeared from Berlin-Britz on February 18, 2019. She’d spent the night at her sister’s house on Maurerweg and should have been at school by 9:50 in the morning. She never arrived. The case became one of the most widely covered missing persons stories in recent German memory, the kind that spreads through social media in waves—shared by strangers, picked up by news outlets, then slowly absorbed into the background noise of unsolved things. From the beginning, the police assigned a homicide commission to the case. That detail meant something.

Her brother-in-law Florian R. was the primary suspect for years. He was tried in 2022 and acquitted—insufficient evidence, the court said, though Rebecca’s body has never been found and no one else has ever been seriously investigated. That verdict arrived in the particularly cold way verdicts do when the victim is still officially missing: not closure, just a door shut on one possible explanation. Her family has lived inside that uncertainty ever since.

I remember when this was spreading in early 2019, the strange communal urgency of sharing a photograph of a teenager you don’t know, in a city you may not live in, hoping the algorithm does something useful for once. It rarely does. But the alternative felt worse. Rebecca would be in her early twenties now. That math is its own kind of grief.