He Lost One Twin to Gunfire — Then Was Killed Before He Could Speak for His Son.

He Lost One Twin to Gunfire — Then Was Killed Before He Could Speak for His Son

It should have been a quiet night, the kind where nothing happens, where children sleep without fear and a home feels like the one place in the world that cannot be touched by violence.

Ace Lucas and his twin brother ArCel Lucas were just 19 months old, lying asleep on a couch inside their father’s home in Canton, too young to understand danger, too young to know that safety can disappear in seconds.

Their father, Aaron Lucas, was there that night, present in the place that was supposed to protect his children, never imagining that it would become the scene of something irreversible. On July 22, 2020, that illusion of safety shattered. Gunfire erupted. Not one or two sH๏τs. But a barrage. Investigators later said around 23 rounds were fired into the home by three men, bullets tearing through walls, furniture, and the space where two babies lay sleeping, turning a place of rest into a place of chaos. Ace Lucas was struck in the head. A single moment that ended his life before it had even begun to unfold.

His twin brother, ArCel, was also hit, sH๏τ in the leg, wounded but alive, left to grow up carrying a story that began with loss before he could even speak. One child died. One child survived. And their father was left in the middle of both realities at once. Aaron Lucas lost his son inside his own home, in a place that should have protected him, a loss that did not just break a family but reshaped everything that would come after. In the months that followed, the case moved forward. Investigators built their timeline. Suspects were identified. And Aaron became something more than just a grieving father. He became a witness. The person who would stand in court. The person who would speak for Ace. The person who would help tell the truth about what happened that night.

He was preparing to testify. Preparing to face the people accused of bringing that violence into his home. Preparing to stand in a courtroom and give his son a voice. But he never made it there. On August 8, 2021, just one day before he was scheduled to testify, Aaron Lucas was sH๏τ and killed. Not weeks before. Not months before. The day before. The timing turned what was already a tragedy into something even more unsettling, raising questions about silence, about fear, about whether his death was connected to what he was about to do. The man who was going to speak for his child was gone before he could say a single word.

 

Two losses. One family. Less than a year apart. The legal process for Ace’s death did move forward. Trejuan Johnson was convicted for his role in the shooting that killed Ace and injured ArCel, receiving a sentence of 72 years to life in prison, a punishment that reflects the severity of what happened inside that home. But that conviction did not bring full closure. Because it did not stop what came next. It did not prevent the second loss.

It did not protect the one person who was supposed to stand in court and tell the story. In Aaron Lucas’s killing, another name emerged. Nichalous Harvey was arrested in connection with his death, raising hope that there might be answers, that the second tragedy might also lead to accountability. But that hope did not last. A grand jury declined to indict him, citing insufficient evidence and stating that the shooting stemmed from an unrelated confrontation, leaving the case without charges, without resolution, and without a clear answer. And that is where things remain. A child killed while sleeping. A father killed before he could testify.

A second case without a conclusion. And a surviving twin left to grow up without both his brother and his father. This is not just a story of one moment of violence. It is a story of repeтιтion. Of loss that did not stop the first time. Of a family that was struck, and then struck again. Ace Lucas was 19 months old when he died. Aaron Lucas was preparing to speak for him when he was killed. And ArCel Lucas is growing up carrying both of those absences at once.

Because for this family, the tragedy did not end with one night. It continued. And it left behind a silence that no courtroom ever got to hear.