Charles Edward Stevenson Jr. Arrested in Cary Road Rage Shooting That Injured 5-Year-Old Girl on U.S. 1; Bullet Passed Through Child’s Leg and Lodged in Sippy Cup, Prompting Community Outcry and Renewed Focus on Gun Violence and Highway Safety

In a stunning act of violence that has left a North Carolina community shaken and a young family reeling, Charles Edward Stevenson Jr., 20, was arrested Tuesday night in Raleigh, just over 24 hours after allegedly opening fire on a family vehicle in a road rage incident on U.S. Highway 1 in Cary. The shooting injured Ema, a 5-year-old girl seated in the backseat of the targeted vehicle during rush hour traffic on Monday. As the horrifying details emerge, including the trajectory of the bullet—through Ema’s small leg before lodging in her sippy cup—the incident has reignited outrage over gun violence, reckless driving, and the fragile safety of children caught in the crossfire of public conflict.

According to the Cary Police Department, Stevenson was taken into custody without incident shortly before 8 p.m. Tuesday. He now faces multiple felony charges, including assault with a deadly weapon with intent to kill and discharging a firearm into occupied property. He is expected to make his first court appearance Wednesday.

The arrest followed a tense day of investigation, as law enforcement officers worked rapidly to identify and locate the suspect behind what authorities described as a senseless act of road rage that spiraled into gunfire and nearly cost a child her life. The shooting unfolded amid congested evening traffic on one of Cary’s busiest corridors—U.S. 1, a vital highway that winds through the heart of the Triangle area. It was there, in the midst of the ordinary rush hour routine, that the violence erupted.

Family members described the moment with raw emotional clarity. Ema, a bright-eyed 5-year-old with her whole life ahead of her, was seated in the back of her parents’ vehicle when a single gunshot tore through the car. The bullet struck her in the leg, ultimately embedding itself in her sippy cup—an object meant to provide comfort and nourishment now transformed into forensic evidence of a brutal encounter. That she survived is both a miracle and a solemn reminder of how close her family came to unthinkable loss.

Aubree Allison, Ema’s aunt, recalled the heartbreaking aftermath. “Your stomach just drops all the way down,” she said, describing the moment she arrived at the hospital. “To hear the wailing from her mother last night, when we went to greet her at the hospital, no mother or parent wants to get that phone call.” Her voice, laced with pain and disbelief, speaks for a community forced once again to reckon with the dangers that follow guns on the road.

As Allison and Ema’s mother explained, the altercation began moments earlier, when Ema’s father noticed two vehicles swerving aggressively, weaving through traffic. One of those cars, allegedly driven by Stevenson, reportedly threw an object out of the window, damaging a nearby vehicle before striking the family’s car. Instead of defusing the situation or calling for help, the confrontation escalated. Ema’s father, trying to keep track of the suspect’s vehicle, eventually caught up on U.S. 1 and rolled down his window to confront the driver. That’s when the suspect allegedly fired a single round into the car—no warning, no restraint.

The round passed through Ema’s leg, and the resulting injury has already required multiple surgeries. According to Allison, the young girl is “in good spirits,” an almost unimaginable testament to her resilience, but the physical and emotional scars are deep. Doctors had to remove a section of her leg tissue, and her path to recovery will be long and arduous. Ema is now facing extensive physical therapy—a burdensome journey for any person, let alone a child who hasn’t yet stepped into her first kindergarten classroom.

Beyond the immediate trauma, the shooting has sent reverberations through the larger Triangle community and beyond. The image of a bullet-ridden sippy cup is one that will linger in the minds of parents and drivers alike. It starkly encapsulates the randomness, the brutality, and the sheer preventability of gun violence born from reckless rage behind the wheel.

While Cary is often viewed as one of North Carolina’s more tranquil, suburban enclaves, Monday’s shooting has shaken the perception of safety many residents hold. Road rage is not new, and neither is gun violence. But their intersection in this incident—on a packed highway during rush hour, with a child as the victim—has led to renewed conversations about policing, preventative strategies, and the deeper social undercurrents that fuel such outbursts of aggression.

The investigation, although leading to a rapid arrest, remains active. Police are continuing to collect witness accounts, traffic camera footage, and ballistic evidence to piece together the full scope of the confrontation. Though no additional injuries were reported, the emotional toll on Ema’s family is profound. In response, Allison has launched a GoFundMe campaign to help offset the cost of Ema’s mounting medical expenses—a burden few families are prepared to bear, especially when the incident itself was so arbitrary and unprovoked.

The fundraising effort has already begun to attract community support, not just financially, but as a platform for awareness. “This can’t just be another story that fades away,” Allison said. “It has to lead to change. It has to mean something.”

The call for change is not new. North Carolina, like much of the country, continues to grapple with the twin crises of gun access and anger management, particularly in the context of road rage. Studies have shown a steady uptick in aggressive driving incidents leading to violence, often involving legally or illegally owned firearms. While some blame broader cultural trends, others point to policy gaps, law enforcement response times, and the normalization of confrontation as a means of resolving disputes.

For Ema’s family, these discussions are no longer academic. Their child’s life was nearly stolen on an ordinary day, in an ordinary car, on an ordinary road. Their plea is simple but urgent: that no other family should have to endure this nightmare, that action should follow outrage, and that gunfire has no place in moments of frustration on the road.

As Charles Edward Stevenson Jr. prepares to face a judge, the legal process begins—but justice, for Ema, will require more than prosecution. It will require community reflection, policy engagement, and a commitment to protecting the most vulnerable from the consequences of unrestrained violence. The bullet that tore through her leg was not merely a moment of physical harm; it was a rupture in the social contract that promises our children they are safe in the backseat, shielded by their parents, by their laws, by their society.

Ema’s name, now known across the state, carries with it the innocence of childhood and the fragility of life in a world where one man’s moment of rage can leave a lifetime of scars. But it also carries a seed of resolve—a reason to push for something better, safer, kinder.