My name is Carla Vetromile, and I am the mother of Mathew Vetromile, who has been missing since March 1st, 2021. Every day since Mathew vanished has been a waking nightmare—a constant loop of fear, grief, and unanswered questions. A piece of my heart is missing, and the uncertainty of not knowing where he is or if he’s safe is a pain I wouldn’t wish on anyone.

Mathew is not just a name or a case file—he is my son. He is kind, thoughtful, and deeply loved by our family and his friends. His laughter filled our home, his dreams filled our conversations, and his presence brought light into our lives. The silence in his absence is deafening.

I wake up each day hoping for news. I check my phone obsessively. I can’t drive down the street without scanning faces, wondering if I’ll catch a glimpse of him. I’ve lived every mother’s worst fear—imagining if he’s hurt, if he’s scared, if he’s even still alive. It’s an agony that never ends.

This ordeal has not only shattered my heart, but it has also upended our lives emotionally, mentally, and financially. We’ve poured every resource we can into searching for Mathew—printing flyers, hiring investigators, working with law enforcement, and doing everything humanly possible to bring him home.

What I need most is awareness, support, and continued effort to keep Mathew’s name and face in the public eye. Someone, somewhere knows something. We need that person to come forward. I ask—no, I beg—for anyone with information, no matter how small, to speak up.

Mathew, if you can hear me: I love you. I will never stop looking for you. We are waiting for you, and we will never give up hope.

—Carla Vetromile

My name is Amanda Miller, and I am the sister of Mathew Vetromile, who has been missing since March 1st, 2021. More than four years have passed since the day he disappeared, and not a single one has gone by without pain, questions, and the desperate hope for answers. Living in this state of constant uncertainty is something I wouldn’t wish on anyone.

Mathew isn’t just my brother—he’s a part of me. He’s someone who I looked up to, he would give his last penny to you, his shirt of his back, he was there when you called no matter the day or time. He loved music, made people laugh at the most unexpected times, and always cared deeply about the people in his life. His disappearance has left a void in our family that will never be replaced. The emotional and psychological toll of not knowing what happened to him is overwhelming. Our family has lived every day in a state of suspended grief—not able to mourn, not able to move forward, just stuck in this endless limbo. 

We are not just asking for answers—we are begging for them. We need help. We need people to remember that Mathew is not just a name or a statistic. He is loved. He is missed. And he deserves to be found.

If anyone has any information, no matter how small or insignificant it might seem, please come forward. Someone out there knows something. And until we know the truth, we will never stop searching.

Thank you for hearing our story, and for keeping Mathew in your thoughts.

—Amanda Miller

My name is Tasha Burgos, and I am the cousin of Mathew Vetromile, who has been missing since March 1st, 2021. I can’t begin to describe the pain, fear, and heartbreak that our entire family has carried every single day since he disappeared. Mathew isn’t just my cousin—he’s like a brother to me. We grew up together. We laughed, we shared secrets, we made plans for the future. Now, I live every day haunted by his absence and the silence that has followed.

There’s a hole in our family that nothing can fill. Holidays, birthdays, and everyday life aren’t the same without him. We look around the room and feel the weight of who’s missing. We don’t just miss him—we ache for him. The not knowing is the hardest part. Is he okay? Is he safe? Does he know we’re still searching, still hoping, still loving him just as much as we ever have?

Watching his mother, Carla, my aunt, suffer through this unimaginable pain is heartbreaking beyond words. No one should have to live in this kind of limbo. And yet, here we are—pleading for answers, clinging to hope, and trying to stay strong for each other when all we feel is broken.

We need help. We need Mathew’s face and name to stay out there in the world. Someone out there knows something. Even the smallest detail could be the one that brings him home. I’m asking from the deepest part of my heart—if you know anything, please speak up. Please give our family the peace of knowing what happened to Mathew.

Mathew, if you’re out there and can somehow see this: We love you. We are not giving up on you. We will keep searching until you are found.

—Tasha Burgos