Cheating Wife Shoots Husband 6 Times — He Survives, Gets Out of the Hospital, and K!lls Her | HO”

On a quiet March evening in St. Louis, a frantic 911 call reported a husband shot inside his own home. By dawn, doctors were unsure he would live. By winter, he woke from a coma and named the person who pulled the trigger. And two years later, in a Honolulu apartment, that same man stood accused of killing the woman who nearly took his life.

What followed was a labyrinth of evidence, infidelity, money, and motive — a case that stretched from Missouri to Hawaii, from an ICU bed to a hotel corridor, and from an apparent robbery to a verdict that divided public opinion.

A call for help — and six bullets at the door

At 8:47 p.m. on March 15, 2022, the St. Louis Metropolitan Police Department received a call from Naima Hinton, who said her husband had been shot inside their Peabody Darst Webbe neighborhood apartment. Officers arrived within minutes to find Galani Drayton, 27, collapsed in the entryway, bleeding heavily and unconscious.

Paramedics counted six gunshot wounds: two to the chest, one to the abdomen, two to the left arm, and one to the right temple. He was rushed to Barnes-Jewish Hospital, where surgeons fought through the night. Against the odds, Drayton survived emergency surgery — but remained in critical condition.

Hinton told detectives she had been watching television when she heard the shots. She said she hid, waited several minutes, then found her husband wounded and called 911. There were no signs of forced entry. No weapon recovered. And no witnesses reported seeing a shooter flee.

A marriage under pressure

Detective Keshan Germaine began reconstructing the couple’s life. Drayton had recently lost a higher-paying sales job during pandemic downsizing and was earning less at a warehouse. Hinton worked part-time in healthcare. Bank records showed mounting debt and missed payments.

Then came the detail that would loom over everything: a $250,000 life-insurance policy taken out two months earlier — with Hinton as the sole beneficiary.

Friends described arguments about money. Neighbors noticed Hinton leaving at unusual hours. A coworker recalled complaints that married life “wasn’t what she expected.” The scene, however, yielded little to contradict Hinton’s robbery story. Investigators waited on the one witness who mattered most — the man in the hospital bed.

Coma, contradictions, and a chilling hospital clip

Drayton slipped into a medically induced coma. Days turned to weeks. Investigators flagged inconsistencies in Hinton’s account: her fingerprints appeared on a table near where Drayton fell; there was no physical trace that she hid behind the couch; and officers noted her calm demeanor.

Then a disturbing discovery emerged months later. Hospital security footage showed Hinton alone in Drayton’s room late one night, briefly disconnecting his ventilator before a nurse intervened and documented the incident as a malfunction. No charges followed at the time. Drayton could not speak.

Meanwhile, an insurance company approved a partial payout while Drayton remained critical. Debts were paid. Life continued.

A secret relationship surfaces

Phone records revealed flirtatious messages between Hinton and Terrell Lyman, a man later identified as her romantic partner. Lyman denied involvement in the shooting. The neighborhood produced no witnesses. The gun remained missing. By summer, the case stalled.

Hinton sold the couple’s home and moved to Hawaii with a companion. St. Louis police classified the investigation as inactive.

Nine months later, the survivor speaks

In December 2022, after nearly nine months, Drayton regained consciousness. Recovery was slow: speech therapy, a walker, lingering weakness. When detectives finally interviewed him, his account cut through the fog.

He said his wife called his name as he entered the apartment — then shot him at close range. The first bullet struck his head; five more followed as he fell. He said she watched him bleed before calling 911.

Doctors documented his statement. His mother corroborated details about the insurance policy and the Hawaii move. The case was reopened.

The gun appears — and the plot takes shape

In 2024, a storm dislodged a Glock 9mm from a nearby roof in St. Louis. Ballistics matched the bullets removed from Drayton’s body. Fingerprints matched Hinton’s. Investigators learned the weapon had been purchased via a straw buyer and given to Hinton by Lyman, who later admitted to helping her stage a robbery to trigger an insurance claim.

Prosecutors now believed the shooting was planned — and that it went wrong only because Drayton survived.

Hawaii: confrontation and death

On June 19, 2024, Honolulu police responded to a disturbance at Hinton’s apartment. She was found dead, strangled, with defensive wounds. DNA under her fingernails matched Drayton. Surveillance captured a man resembling him entering and leaving the building that night.

An arrest warrant followed. Drayton was later taken into custody and charged with second-degree murder. Two cases — one attempted murder, one homicide — converged.

Courtroom battle: revenge or self-defense?

At trial, prosecutors argued Drayton traveled to Hawaii with vengeance in mind. The defense told a different story: a confrontation spiraled into self-defense when Hinton allegedly grabbed a knife. A blade bearing her fingerprints was introduced. Character witnesses described Drayton as non-violent.

After days of testimony and deliberation, the jury acquitted Drayton, accepting self-defense. Hinton, already deceased, was formally named the shooter in the St. Louis case.

Outside court, Drayton’s mother spoke of a system that failed to protect her son — and the cost of justice delayed.

A tragedy with no clean ending

Two crime scenes. Two cities. One marriage undone by deceit and money. Drayton survived six bullets and nine months of silence — only to face a reckoning that followed him across an ocean.

The case leaves uncomfortable questions: How close can a lie come to becoming truth? How long can justice wait before it changes everyone involved? And when survival turns into confrontation, where does responsibility finally rest?

For St. Louis and Honolulu alike, the answer came too late — and at a terrible price.