Heartbreaking Revelation: A Colleague of Kada Scott Recalls Her Mentioning Unsettling Messages Just Days Before She Vanished

In the quiet suburbs of northwest Philadelphia, where tree-lined streets and historic homes mask deeper shadows, the disappearance of 23-year-old Kada Scott has unraveled into a tragedy that has gripped the city and beyond. What began as a frantic search for a bright young woman— a recent Penn State graduate, aspiring beauty queen, and devoted daughter—has ended in unimaginable loss. Human remains discovered over the weekend in a shallow grave behind an abandoned middle school have been confirmed as Scott’s, authorities announced on October 20. But amid the grief, a chilling new detail has emerged: a colleague remembers Scott confiding about unsettling messages she had been receiving, just days before she vanished on October 4. “She seemed anxious, but didn’t say much,” the source revealed in an exclusive interview with this outlet, a confession that now haunts friends and family as they scramble for answers. Investigators are examining the messages closely, fearing they may hold clues to her final hours—and a truth no one was prepared to face.

Kada Scott was the epitome of promise and poise. Born and raised in Philadelphia’s Mount Airy neighborhood, she graduated from Penn State University in 2023 with a degree in communications, her eyes set on a career that would blend her passion for storytelling with her natural charisma. Friends described her as “a light”—someone whose infectious smile could brighten the dreariest shift at The Terrace at Chestnut Hill, the assisted living facility where she had started working just two weeks before her disappearance. Scott, who lived with her parents and younger sister, balanced her overnight shifts with dreams of competing in the Miss Pennsylvania USA pageant, a nod to her earlier days as a local beauty contestant. “Kada was kindness personified,” her father, Kevin Scott, told reporters in the early days of the search, his voice cracking with raw emotion. “She showed love and strength every day. We just want her home.”

But beneath that radiant exterior, something had been troubling her. In the week leading up to October 4, Scott began sharing snippets of worry with those closest to her. Family members later revealed to police that she had been receiving harassing phone calls from an unknown number—persistent, invasive contacts that left her unsettled. “She told us someone was bothering her, calling at odd hours,” her mother recounted in a statement released through the family’s GoFundMe page, which raised thousands for a reward fund. “We urged her to block the number, but she brushed it off as nothing serious. Hindsight is cruel.” What her family didn’t know then was that Scott had also opened up to a coworker during a late-night break at the facility. The colleague, who spoke on condition of anonymity out of respect for the ongoing investigation, recalled the moment vividly.

“It was about three days before she went missing—maybe October 1 or 2,” the source said, sitting in a dimly lit coffee shop near the Chestnut Hill neighborhood, her hands trembling as she clutched a Styrofoam cup. “We were in the break room, just chatting about the residents and how exhausting the shifts were. Kada was always the one cracking jokes, keeping spirits up. But that night, she got quiet. She pulled out her phone and showed me these texts. They were… weird. Not outright threatening, but pushy. Like, ‘Why aren’t you answering?’ and ‘I know where you work.’ She laughed it off at first, said it was probably some creep from a dating app she swiped left on. But her eyes—she looked scared. Anxious, like she was trying to convince herself it was no big deal.” The colleague paused, her voice dropping to a whisper. “I told her to report it, save screenshots, tell her supervisor. She nodded, but changed the subject. ‘It’s fine,’ she said. ‘I’ll handle it.’ God, I wish I’d pushed harder.”

This revelation adds a haunting layer to an already devastating story. Philadelphia Police, in collaboration with the FBI and the city’s homicide unit—which took over the case within days due to suspicions of foul play—had already been piecing together a digital trail from Scott’s phone. Records showed she had been communicating with a burner number linked to the TextNow app, a service notorious for its anonymity since users can sign up without verifiable personal information. The messages, described by law enforcement sources as “escalating in tone,” mirrored the harassing calls Scott had mentioned to her family. “These weren’t casual texts,” an investigator familiar with the case told us. “They showed a pattern of obsession—repeated attempts to meet up, questions about her routine. We’re combing through every word now, cross-referencing with cell data and witness statements. If there’s a clue to what happened in those final hours, it’s there.”

Scott’s last known movements paint a picture of abrupt normalcy shattered by terror. On the evening of October 4, she kissed her mother goodbye at their Mount Airy home around 9:45 p.m., driving her black Hyundai Accent to the facility on East Abington Avenue for her 10 p.m. to 6 a.m. shift. Coworkers clocked her arrival but noted she left early, around 10:30 p.m., after receiving a call or message—details still under review. Surveillance footage from the parking lot, frustratingly sparse due to blind spots, captured nothing conclusive. Her car remained parked, keys missing, phone silenced. By morning, when she failed to return home or respond to texts, her family grew alarmed. “To have the phone totally off, go straight to voicemail, and no texts responding—that’s definitely strange behavior for Kada,” her father said, echoing the sentiments of those who knew her best.

The breakthrough came swiftly but agonizingly. Tips poured in—over 50 in the first week alone—prompting searches across Awbury Arboretum, Southwest Philadelphia, and abandoned sites like the vacant middle school on Ardleigh Street. On October 15, police arrested 21-year-old Keon King of Dover, Delaware, charging him with kidnapping, stalking, and related offenses in connection with Scott’s disappearance. Bail was set at $2.5 million, with prosecutors hinting at more charges to come, including potential homicide counts pending autopsy results. King, described as the last person in contact with Scott, had allegedly used the TextNow number to communicate with her. Evidence linked him to a stolen black Hyundai Accent—Scott’s make and model—found burned in East Falls, its front bumper damaged in a manner consistent with a struggle or crash.

King’s history only deepened the horror. Earlier this year, he faced charges in a separate kidnapping and assault case involving another woman, which was controversially dropped by the Philadelphia DA’s office—a decision now under scrutiny. Viral TikTok videos surfaced showing a man matching King’s description prowling outside a woman’s home, peering into windows in what sources called a “pattern of predatory behavior.” “This wasn’t random,” the anonymous colleague said, tears welling. “Those messages she showed me? They fit. She was being stalked, and we missed it. How many signs do we ignore until it’s too late?”

The discovery of Scott’s remains on October 18—prompted by a chilling anonymous tip: “Go back, she’s there, look again”—shattered the fragile hope her family clung to. Hidden in a wooded area behind the abandoned school, the shallow grave yielded partial skeletal remains, confirmed via DNA as Scott’s by October 20. Philadelphia Mayor Cherelle Parker issued a statement of profound sorrow: “There are no words to remove the unimaginable pain… our hearts are with Kada’s family.” In a joint family message, Kevin and his wife described their “shattered hearts,” urging the public to honor Kada’s memory through “kindness and care, just as she did every day.”

As the investigation presses on— with King’s silence complicating prosecutors’ case—questions linger like ghosts in the autumn fog. Were the unsettling messages the stalker’s first overtures, a digital noose tightening around Scott’s life? The colleague’s memory, once a casual aside, now feels prophetic. “She didn’t say much because she didn’t want to worry us,” the source reflected. “But looking back, she was screaming for help in whispers.”

Philadelphia, a city of brotherly love scarred by too many unsolved sorrows, mourns Kada Scott not just as a victim, but as a stolen future. Her story is a stark reminder of the shadows lurking in everyday connections—of the harassing calls dismissed as nuisances, the anxious glances overlooked in the rush of routine. For those left behind, the haunting isn’t just in the what-ifs, but in the truth unearthed: a young woman’s light, dimmed by obsession, extinguished too soon.

In the days ahead, as charges mount and trials loom, Scott’s loved ones seek not vengeance, but justice—a reckoning for the messages that foretold her fate. “Honor Kada by listening,” her father implored. “When someone says they’re scared, believe them. Act.” In a world quick to scroll past warnings, it’s a plea etched in heartbreak, one that echoes far beyond Philadelphia’s borders.

This article is based on interviews, police statements, and public records as of October 22, 2025. Our thoughts are with the Scott family during this impossible time. If you have information on similar cases or patterns of harassment, contact local authorities anonymously.