Family pay tribute to girl, 9, murdered while playing on Boston street
Deividas Skebas has been found guilty of murder
Last updated 5th Feb 2026
The family of a nine-year-old girl who was fatally stabbed in the heart while playing in the street in Boston have paid tribute to her.
Lilia Valutyte was attacked by Deividas Skebas, 26, while playing with a hula hoop outside a shop where mother was working in 2022.
She was taken to hospital but later died.
Skebas, a Lithuanian national, admitted manslaughter on the grounds of diminished responsibility, referring to his schizophrenia, but was convicted of murder today (5th February).
He was convicted by a majority of 11 to one after the jury deliberated for almost seven-and-a-half hours.
He will be sentenced on 25th February 2026.
A statement from Lilia's mother, Lina Savickiene
On February 2nd, she would have turned thirteen.
Despite that, I am not here. Because I am afraid. Afraid of myself.
My plan was to see him face to face. I did that. And everything else is just a detail we will have to live with for the rest of our lives.
Grief does what it does — wounds do not heal quickly. A person can, at any moment, become a lawyer, a psychiatrist, or the accused…
She was my firstborn. On the day she was born, we almost died — we fought for each other’s lives. And where are we now?
I was not, and am not, a very “maternal” mother. I was always strict, but loving. We do not come into this world with a book that teaches us how to be parents, and when I think about how many things I could have done differently while she was alive… guilt does what it does best.
Over these years of loss, both I and my entire family have lived through so much. Tears and pain cannot wash away everything we feel. It is deeply painful to live through something whose consequences someone never truly thought through.
We did, in fact, visit this person’s hometown. A rather beautiful, fairly large town. His mother owns a flower shop. There were so many thoughts, and I tried to understand — to feel — why? For what? I still cannot comprehend it.
Yet memories are the greatest gift. I am grateful to myself at least for this — that during those nine years, we lived fully and visited many places. We did not stand still.
Even though I so wanted to see her future… her choices, perhaps her children.
Sadly.
In her memory, in Boston, we will leave a part of ourselves — and of her: a bench in the central park, the Fountain Lane garden, the wings, the flower wall, and the Dolphin Lane mosaic.
And also a statue — capturing her final minutes, playing with a hula hoop — which, for now, stands in our yard.
What parent ever thinks they will have to bury their own child?
When the cemetery caretaker asked whether we would take places for ourselves as well, we did not hesitate.
Would you?
People talked — and people will continue to talk. Some supported us. Others gossiped and slandered.
We owe our thanks to those who stood by us. And also to those who walked away — because they, too, showed us who they are.
This is not something you recover from.
Sometimes terrifying thoughts overwhelm the mind, and during this trial week, there have been many more. Yet as a family, we stand strong, supporting each other through every low point and every wound.
Simply tired of tears. Of constant overthinking.
The child will not return. Why her? Why us?
These questions remain unanswered.
A statement from Lilia's stepfather, Aurelijus Savickas
As a father, it is incredibly hard to write about my daughter. Finding the right words feels almost impossible.
In her short life, Lilia went through so much. I came into her life when she was just three years young. From that moment on, we walked our journey together — through good days and bad.
Becoming her Dad Stepfather was new for both of us, but I loved her as my own and always tried to be there for her.
She was a beautiful soul with a growing character and strong personality. She loved drawing and painting. Every time we moved into a new home, she always had at least one wall in her bedroom where she could paint freely. That was her special place — where her imagination lived.
When her little sister was born, Lilia welcomed her with pure joy. She loved her deeply, always wanted to be close to her, and naturally took on the role of protector.
I have attended many funerals in my life, but nothing prepared me for losing a child. There are no words to describe that pain. It left scars on our hearts that will never fully heal.
It has been more than three and a half years since she left us, yet it still feels unreal.
Some emotions fade with time, but the memories remain, and the love never disappears.
I will never forget the phone call from my wife. It was 18:26. She was crying and screaming, begging me to come home, saying something very bad had happened. She told me Lilia was badly hurt. At that moment, we didn’t yet know she had been stabbed. My wife didn’t tell me right away that Lilia had died in her arms — she tried to protect me until I came home.
That week I was working afternoon shifts. I had taken the 27th of July off work because it was my birthday. In our family, we have a tradition of celebrating birthdays together by going out for a meal. On the 28th, I returned to work. My wife was also working, so before I left, I took Lilia to her shop.
Before I walked away, Lilia hugged me and kissed me and said, “Have a good day.” Normally, we just said goodbye.
That hug and kiss became our last moments together.
A week later, I went to see her at Leicester Hospital Mortuary. Even though I have experienced many funerals, I couldn’t stand beside her for even a minute. My legs felt weak. My heart was broken.
Now, from time to time, it is heartbreaking to see my little daughter crying without knowing why. When we ask what’s wrong, she quietly says, “I just miss my sister.” And in that moment, our pain begins all over again.
When Defence representative said that both sides are victims and that his family also are
suffering his loss, I cannot agree. The person who committed the crime still has the ability to taste food, smell scents, choose who to communicate with and is able to live. As Lilia did not choose to die this can never be compared.
Meanwhile, the crime that was committed has affected our family the most, because we no longer have the opportunity to talk to Lilia, to touch her, or to share our thoughts with her, to see her grow up, to become an adult and live her life in any way.
Of course, it has also affected other families and children. Our family members, friends, Lilia's school mates, everyone who knew her. And how many children has this case affected — children who endured countless sleepless nights, woke up screaming from nightmares, and were afraid to even go outside? And what about their parents, grandparents, and others supporting them?
This statement only touches on a small amount of the impact this has had on me and my family, I could never fully explain everything that we have felt, the pain we have suffered, because it would take so long to explain just how much this has impacted our lives.
We have somehow had to keep going, tried to stay strong and held a lot inside and for our children. But that has been incredibly difficult when inside and privately we have been broken.
Lilia, you will always live in our hearts.
You are forever loved.
Forever missed.