After hearing the emotionally-charged statement, Justice Robert Hulme told the grieving parents that their dignity was inspiring.

...Now Stephanie and Aaron are starting life together as Mr and Mrs Leeson-Woolley they will have time to make a history together, little jokes, family holidays, special events and places, their own memories with milestones to celebrate…

This wedding speech, like Stephanie’s life, will forever remain unfinished.

There were no vows exchanged, no wedding dance performed, no celebration with family and friends.

Stephanie spent her wedding day alone in the cold sterility of the Griffith morgue. Instead of enjoying every moment of her evening with loved ones, Stephanie was on the long and lonely journey to meet with the coroner in Glebe. Her ordeal was coming to a close. Ours was just beginning.

Our lives have been shattered. How could this happen to our beautiful girl?

We worried about our children as they stretched their wings, as they travelled and moved away for work or study. We did not worry about Stephanie when she moved to Leeton. We thought she would be safe.

Those first few days are a jumble of memories, of people and phone calls, of hoping and waiting, and searching. There were constant tears and pain, so much food donated, but being unable to eat, and the griping pain of it. There was the realisation that heart ache is real, so severe I thought I must die, and I would have welcomed it.

Ribbons, yellow ribbons, and candles, and so many sad students who didn’t know where else to be. A shrine had grown at the school fence, and it persists today. I will forever remember the girls who told me how many hours they had been there, just sitting, waiting, for what…

They said they hadn’t eaten, but they weren’t very hungry. It was heart breaking. Why should they have to know such pain, have their precious teacher taken in such a way?

There were daily and sometimes twice daily meetings with detectives. We had to give DNA and details of our orthodontist.

Our family decided to celebrate Stephanie and Aaron’s wedding day in Mountford Park with the people of Leeton. It was a difficult undertaking, but was important for us and the town.

Leeton could not be defined by this tragedy, just as Stephanie’s life could not be defined by the terrible manner of her death.

A venue to cater for several thousand mourners had to be found, and Stephanie and Aaron’s wedding venue was chosen.

It was a poignant moment, standing in a room full of coffins, trying to decide which one was most appropriate for our beautiful girl. She was at the height of her happiness and loveliness, and should have been away on her honeymoon, enjoying her life and in love.

Stephanie was returned to us on the 21st April, but we could not see her, we could not hold her. The body bag was not to be opened. This was another cruelty we had to endure, and another indignity for our darling daughter.

Our children all played a role in contributing to Stephanie’s funeral, as did Aaron and his family. We wore our wedding clothes and the flowers were of the colours of the bouquets. Yellow balloons were released, and Stephanie left on her final journey to ‘Home’ ringing out across the green.

So much time and effort is involved in raising a child, so much love invested. A parent’s reward is seeing their children grow into good and moral human beings, in a career that suits their abilities and interests, and surrounded by quality people. Along life’s journey they learn to be resilient enough to face life’s challenges, to find love, and someone like minded to share their lives with. Stephanie had found Aaron.

We have watched our children from these first days, trying to understand how someone could do this to their precious, gentle sister. We watched them suffer and withdraw, trying to cope with all the repercussions of this tragedy. They have handled themselves with dignity and grace, and have all been courageous in the face of such grief and in the public eye.

Our children have had to return to work, and this has been difficult for them all. Stephanie was such a big part of our family, openly confessing her love in her beautifully hand-made cards, offering praise and encouragement.

Our Grandson was four when his Aunty Steph. died. Will he remember her? What problems will he face having his security undermined at such a young age?

As the weeks and months pass, the darkness persists. The tears have become more private now, deeper and more painful. They are part of who we have become. This is our new life.

In the beginning I would gladly have died, but we have survived, and this pain is a constant in our lives.

Stephanie is with me from my first conscious thought of a morning until I whisper ‘goodnight my darling girl’ in the darkness of my bed.  

But even the refuge of bed provides no sanctuary. The nights are haunted by visions so terrible; it is difficult to find rest.

Stephanie is with us during every moment of every day. She is in every activity, in every drawer and cupboard. Her beautiful smile beams out at us from every photo. But we don’t need photos. She is in our every cell, a heart-beat away.

I can again look at the moon without crying, and I can even appreciate its beauty, but it brings me no joy. This is just another of the things that Stephanie will never again see. She will never again experience the turning of the seasons, or the sun on her skin, or the breeze on her face. Her little garden is thriving without her. How bitter-sweet it is.

Stephanie will never again be able to wash her pretty cups, make a cake to mark our visits, and I can never watch her elegant way as she works in her kitchen. These are just a few of the things we will forever be denied, and I don’t know how I can keep existing feeling such loss.

Losing Stephanie has had a profound impact on us all. Something new occurs to us nearly every day. Our children have all celebrated a second birthday without her. I had to re-read almost every Christmas card I signed on behalf of our family. After 26 years, it just doesn’t look right without Stephanie’s name. The simple act of choosing a birthday card for our loved ones has become a challenge.

Stephanie and Aaron lived conservatively and within their means. This was partly a legacy of being a member of a large family and partly a poor ‘uni’ student. She had no debt and no unfinished business. They were a special couple. Stephanie was civic minded and had a great attitude to life. She was careful with all her possessions.

She abhorred cruelty of any kind, but particularly to children and animals.

Stephanie was many things to many people. She was a daughter, a sister, fiancé, a soul mate, a granddaughter, a niece, an aunt, a godmother and a friend.

She was quick witted and insightful, gentle, kind, generous, wise beyond her years, sensitive, considerate, compassionate, energetic, inspiring, creative, encouraging, courageous, loud, inclusive, perceptive, organised, empathetic, good, honest, trustworthy, reliable, sensible, silly, outrageous, capable, determined, patient, fun, disciplined, focussed, elegant, eloquent, athletic, happy and at times a little irreverent, and could laugh at herself.

She was a mentor, a role model, a confidante, a communicator, and a  passionate educator. She was the conduit through which many young people found courage.

She represented all that was good about human kind.

Stephanie made many friends along her life’s journey, and loved her friends. She tended her friendships to keep them strong, and expected the same in return.

We thank Stephanie’s friends who continue to share their lives with us. We have met some of the babies Stephanie would have endeared herself to. It is the cruellest blow to know we will never meet Stephanie’s children, never watch her tend them. What an attentive mother she would have been, how much fun. How much time and love she would have invested to make their childhood amazing.

I would gladly give up my life in a single beat of my weary aching heart, if I thought Stephanie could have a chance at hers.

She has been referred to as an inspiration, a breath of fresh air, and a flower cut down before her time.

Stephanie embraced life and every opportunity it presented. She participated in all activities at school and university, and made many good friends through her enthusiasm and attitude and at all times maintained a focus on her studies.

At Leeton HS Stephanie was an integral part of daily life. She treated students as young people, and encouraged them to try everything, to experience it all. She was involved in the SRC, public speaking, debating, eisteddfods, sporting carnival relays, coaching the junior girls in Bill Turner KO soccer, League Tag, Vibe, reinvigorated staff V’s student competitions, organised drama excursions, took her place on the Leeton HS float and was heavily involved in musicals and sistaspeak.

A sadness has now descended on the school. Students are unable to participate in activities outside normal school hours, their innocence has been taken. So much damage has been done.

I do not know how the staff has continued to go about their duties under such difficult circumstances.

Stephanie had decided to take some time off at the beginning of term, always on a quest to find that perfect work/life balance. She had her first HSC drama class and would not have wanted her students to be disadvantaged in her absence.

It was her dedication to duty and her students, and her determination to fulfil her professional obligation that saw her at school on Easter Sunday.

This despicable person had access to 6 schools, TAFE and Essential Energy. Within less than a week had begun flouting rules, and was not challenged. There were many behaviours that should have raised red flags; his behaviour in the community was also anti-social at best.

He should not have been at school that fateful weekend, but such was his arrogance that he did as he pleased.

He had made it his business to establish what selected staff members were doing over Easter and his plan had swung into action by the end of term.

With the anonymity of the internet he was able to purchase all of the vile items he needed without having to be accountable to anyone, or look anyone in the eye.

Too pathetic and inept to make a life of his own, he chose to take a life he had no right to.

It sickens me to think that in her last moments on earth Stephanie would have been at a loss to comprehend how this person, to whom she had only ever been polite and pleasant, could betray her so badly.

Did she see the knife? Did she know her fate? Did she see his fist before he pounded her precious life into oblivion? And even as her life drained away, his assault continued.

We will never know what she suffered, but to know that she suffered at all is difficult for us to bear.

We will endeavour to stop thinking about the person that has done this to our family. So much pain has been caused, and so much damage done. Enough has been taken from us, and let this be an end to it. It is time to celebrate our daughter’s life, to dwell on all the good things, to remember her humanity and her love of life.

Writing this statement has weighed heavily on me for many months. It has overshadowed every day. It is another of the many tasks we have had to perform to honour our daughter. The pressure has been immense.

Every day is a challenge. There was life before and there is life now. A sadness has permeated everything we do, and just existing is hard. I naively thought that once court was finished, and the low calibre-low lives that have done this to our daughter and our family are dealt with, that things would be easier, but I realise now they will never be. Every day is long, and even though I buy my flowers to fill my world with colour, the darkness persists. I am withdrawn, and find going out to do the simplest tasks difficult. I have suffered a succession of bouts of ill health.

We were an ordinary family happily living ordinary lives, and now we have been set apart. Through no fault of our own, this tragedy has befallen us, and we are left floundering, trying to pick up the pieces of our shattered lives. The joy has gone. Grief is exhausting and isolating. I have lost touch with many of my friends. It just takes too much energy!

Our daughter was truly one of the special ones. She went softly through life, touching everyone, leaving no person worse off for having been showered with her love and goodness.

Her life is slowly, inevitably being packed into boxes. We are leaving her behind. There will be no end for us; we had a truly amazing girl who was a constant source of pride and joy. Now we have to learn to live with the void that losing her has left. Such a tragic waste, and a precious life unfulfilled.