EXCLUSIVE: A witness reports seeing a man acting suspiciously near the location where Kada Scott was last seen. The individual was reportedly wearing a hoodie and carrying a bag, but authorities have yet to confirm his identity

In the dim glow of streetlights along East Abington Avenue, where the upscale Chestnut Hill neighborhood meets the quiet hum of an assisted living facility, a new layer of dread has settled over the Kada Scott case. Just two days after authorities confirmed the tragic discovery of Scott’s remains, an exclusive report from a witness has surfaced, detailing a suspicious figure spotted near The Terrace at Chestnut Hill—the very spot where the 23-year-old vanished on October 4. The individual, described as a man in a dark hoodie and carrying a nondescript bag, was seen “pacing erratically” around 10:15 p.m., mere minutes after Scott clocked in for her overnight shift. Authorities have yet to confirm the man’s identity, but the sighting has reignited questions about the frantic final moments before her abduction, fueling fears that overlooked clues may have sealed her fate.

The witness, a longtime resident of the nearby Wissahickon Valley Park area who asked to remain anonymous for safety reasons, shared her account in a hushed conversation outside a local café on Germantown Avenue. “It was one of those crisp fall nights—you know, leaves crunching underfoot, but something felt off,” she recalled, her voice steady but eyes darting as if reliving the unease. “I was walking my dog after dinner, cutting through the side street by the facility. That’s when I saw him. Tall, maybe 5’10” or so, hood up shadowing his face, hands stuffed in his pockets except when he adjusted this black backpack slung over one shoulder. He wasn’t just passing by; he was lingering, looking toward the parking lot like he was waiting for someone. Or watching.”

The timing aligns chillingly with the last traces of Scott’s movements. According to police timelines, the Penn State graduate arrived at The Terrace around 10 p.m., her black Hyundai Accent pulling into the employee lot after a quick goodbye to her mother back in Mount Airy. Coworkers noted her brief presence—signing in, exchanging pleasantries—before she stepped out for what she described as a quick call. Surveillance footage, pieced together from fragmented cameras, captured her leaving on foot shortly after 10:15 p.m., phone in hand, heading toward the street. Her vehicle stayed behind, keys presumably with her, and her phone went dark moments later. “She seemed rushed, like she was meeting someone,” a colleague later told investigators, echoing the anxiety from those harassing messages she’d confided about days earlier. The witness’s description? It fits the profile of someone lying in wait.

“I didn’t think much of it at the time—Philly’s got its share of oddballs at night,” the witness continued, fiddling with her coffee cup. “But then, a young woman walked right past him, dark hair like in the missing posters, heading east on Abington. He perked up, you could tell—started following at a distance, bag bouncing against his side. I called out, ‘Hey, everything okay?’ but they were already turning the corner toward the arboretum path. My dog started barking like crazy, so I headed home. The next morning, the news hit about the missing girl from the facility. I froze. That had to be her.”

Philadelphia Police Department spokespeople were tight-lipped when reached for comment late Tuesday, confirming only that “all witness statements near the disappearance site are under active review” but declining to link this sighting directly to suspect Keon King, the 21-year-old from Dover, Delaware, arrested on October 15. King, held on $2.5 million bail, faces a litany of charges including kidnapping, stalking, arson, and tampering with evidence—escalated after the October 18 discovery of Scott’s remains in a shallow grave behind the abandoned Ada H. Lewis Middle School in East Germantown. Prosecutors allege he used a burner TextNow account to lure her out, communicating obsessively in the days prior, and that his phone pinged near the facility that night. A burned 1999 Toyota Camry, stolen days before from Southwest Philadelphia, was recovered in East Falls, its damage suggesting a high-speed escape or collision. But King’s hoodie-clad appearance in viral TikTok videos from his prior stalking allegations—peering into windows, bag in tow—bears an eerie resemblance to the witness’s account, sources close to the investigation whisper.

This isn’t the first red flag in King’s shadowed past. Earlier this year, he was charged with strangling and kidnapping another woman, dragging her into a car in a brazen assault captured on grainy video. The case crumbled when the victim, traumatized and fearful, failed to appear in court—a decision now lambasted by DA Larry Krasner as a “profound misstep.” Refiled post-arrest, it paints a portrait of predation: anonymous tips of King “prowling neighborhoods,” a pattern of digital harassment mirroring Scott’s ordeal. “He’d show up uninvited, hooded and hooded, always with that bag—like he was ready to grab and go,” a source familiar with the earlier victim said. “It’s the same playbook.”

For Scott’s family, shattered by Monday’s DNA confirmation, this witness’s story is both a gut punch and a grim validation. Kevin Scott, Kada’s father, has spent weeks poring over timelines, his home a war room of flyers and news clippings. “She was our spark—Miss Pennsylvania dreams, late-night laughs over bad rom-coms,” he told reporters last week, voice raw. “Those calls she mentioned? We thought spam. Now, knowing someone was out there, watching… it haunts us.” The family’s GoFundMe, initially for search efforts, now shifts to memorial funds, amassing over $150,000 in a tide of communal grief. A vigil planned for Friday at Awbury Arboretum—where early searches scoured dense woods—will feature candles etched with Kada’s favorite Bible verse: “Let your light shine.”

Investigators, meanwhile, are doubling down. The anonymous tip that led to the grave—”Go back, she’s there, look again”—has cracked open leads on potential accomplices, with King’s phone records placing him at the school site hours after the abduction. Items recovered there—a phone case, glasses, an ID card bearing Scott’s name—scream of a hasty burial. The witness has been subpoenaed for a composite sketch, and FBI behavioral analysts are profiling the “stalker archetype,” warning of copycats in a city where 2025 has seen a 15% spike in unreported harassment cases. “Hoodies hide faces, bags hide tools,” one profiler noted anonymously. “But they can’t hide intent forever.”

As autumn leaves blanket the paths where Kada last walked, this sighting underscores a brutal truth: danger often wears camouflage, blending into the night until it’s too late. The witness, wracked with what-ifs, ended our interview with a plea: “I wish I’d followed, called it in right then. Tell her family I’m sorry. And tell the cops— that bag? Check it for her things.” Whether it unravels more threads in King’s web or exposes a broader threat, the image lingers: a hooded silhouette against the facility’s glow, a bag heavy with unspoken horrors.

Philadelphia’s “City of Brotherly Love” grapples once more with its underbelly, where promise meets peril. For Kada Scott, whose smile lit up Penn State’s quad and her parents’ dinner table, the fight for justice presses on—not just for answers, but for safeguards. Mayor Cherelle Parker, in a somber address, vowed resources for stalking hotlines and victim support: “No more shadows unchecked.” In the Scott household, a single photo remains on the mantel: Kada in her pageant gown, radiant and unafraid. “She’d want us to keep shining,” her mother whispered. Amid the heartbreak, it’s a light that refuses to fade