Isla Rose Melucci went to sleep March 8 like any normal night.
When the 4-year-old wasn’t awake by 7 the next morning, a Monday, her mother figured it was because they had spent most of the weekend playing outside, enjoying the mild weather. They moved the clocks ahead an hour that Sunday, so that could have affected her, too.
By 8:30, Rebecca Reed opened the bedroom curtains and turned off the sound machine, seeing if that would help her daughter wake on her own.
When that didn’t work, Reed touched Isla. She was cold.
She grabbed Isla from the bed and ran outside screaming for help in their Taylor neighborhood. But Isla was gone.
“She wasn't sick. She didn't fall and bang her head. She didn't have any concussions. She didn't have a fever,” Reed said. “She was literally just this perfect, happy girl that went to bed and just didn't wake up.”
Since exams and the autopsy didn’t provide answers, Isla’s death is considered Sudden Unexplained Death in Childhood. Similar to Sudden Infant Death Syndrome, Sudden Unexplained Death in Childhood is a category of death for a child 1 year of age or older that remains unexplained after a thorough investigation.
“We don't have a reason why. I don't know if we'll ever really know a reason why. At least not in the medical technology that we have right now,” Reed said.
Approximately 418 children in the U.S. were affected by sudden unexplained death in 2024, according to the SUDC Foundation, an organization that funds research and helps families. Isla’s family is now working with the foundation and Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia, seeking answers and raising awareness.
During a fundraiser on Sunday at Montage Mountain, friends, family and strangers will raise money to build a playground to honor Isla's legacy.
'Our world has stopped'
Isla loved Minnie Mouse and bubbles. She wanted to be outside, regardless of the weather.
She took longer to reach milestones, such as talking and walking, and received early intervention support for her diagnosis of global developmental delay. That diagnosis is not related to her death, Reed said.
She said four words — Mama, Dad, hi and her name — and when she started to walk, there was no stopping her. She loved going to her gymnastics class.
“Considering she didn't start walking until after 2, she was strong and good at gymnastics. She could flip herself on the bar. She would do like tumbles,” Reed said. “She didn't just walk into the room. She would come running and tumble into it. She just brought a lot of energy.”
Isla loved spending time with her family, including her father, Ricky Melucci, and her siblings: sisters Fiora, 9; Priya, 2; and baby brother, Asa, who was six months old when Isla died.
Fiora misses looking out for Isla. Priya went weeks without picking up her toys — she had to figure out how to play on her own. She called her sister “Iya.”
“We tell her Isla's in the sky and that she's in her heart,” Reed said. “And she'll say, ‘Iya is my sister, my best friend.’”
Reed wears three necklaces — one with the letter I, and two pendants with Isla’s face. As she breastfeeds Asa, he often reaches up to touch the pendants. That provides the mom comfort, since soon, Asa’s life will include more time without Isla, than with her.
“Even though our world has stopped, it still continues. Like we still have to go to work. We still have to care for children,” Reed said. “You could see us walking as a family somewhere, and you think, ‘Oh, look at them! They look like they're such a great, happy family.’ You don't know that there's one child missing. Only we know that, and that's like really hard. But we have to keep moving.”
Honoring Isla
Isla’s death hit the coaches and families hard at USA Tiny Tumblers in South Abington Twp., Lackawanna County, where she attended classes.
“if I just close my eyes, all I see is her little curls and her big, big, big smile,” said Emilia McCormick, owner and gymnastics instructor. “She just came in on a mission. She was just happy. She loved gymnastics. She loved to tumble … She was just always smiling.”
In 2013, McCormick and her mother, Dima Raynova — owner of United Sports Academy in Dunmore and an Olympic gymnast — founded Athletes Caring Together. Through the nonprofit, McCormick and other volunteers found ways to honor Isla.
A scholarship will support a child who has overcome personal challenges — whether developmental, physical, financial or other obstacles — to attend United Sports Academy or USA Tiny Tumblers.
IF YOU GO
Athletes Caring Together will host the 2026 Youth Games on Sunday, Aug. 16, from 11 a.m. to 3 p.m. at Montage Mountain. The family-friendly event will feature sports challenges, activities, local organizations, vendors and more, with all proceeds going to the future playground. Admission is $10 per family.
The organization and Isla’s family say a playground will make a positive impact in the community for years to come.
“We decided we want to do something that was meaningful and important to Isla,” McCormick said. “She loved playgrounds and she also had a big love for gymnastics, so we wanted to bring those two together and create an all-inclusive playground that had sensory corners, some climbing and gymnastics elements.”
Sites in Scranton, Taylor and Old Forge are being considered to build Isla's Memorial Playground, a place where children of every ability can laugh, play, explore and belong.
Athletes Caring Together will host the 2026 Youth Games on Sunday, Aug. 16, from 11 a.m. to 3 p.m. at Montage Mountain. The family-friendly event will feature sports challenges, activities, local organizations, vendors and more, with all proceeds going to the future playground. Admission is $10 per family.
Not forgotten
Reed knows Isla would have loved that kind of playground. Isla couldn’t use the words to describe her excitement, but she had other ways to show it.
“She knew if you were driving a certain route, she would know that that was the route to the playground,” Reed said. “She would clap her hands and kick her legs and laugh and laugh and laugh.”
Isla’s legacy will live on at the playground, through the laughter and friendships to be made.
“I'm really excited that Isla's name is going to be said because as a mom, you don't want your child's name to not be said anymore. You don't want her to be forgotten,” Reed said. “She was only 4.”