Bernie Melvin and his wife had spent hours in the silence of his daughter's studio apartment in the city where she had come to fulfill her dreams.
Her belongings were all still there: the photo of the blowfish from a trip to Maui, her cookbooks and the brown chair where her cat Fido loved to snuggle.
He knew that steps from the apartment was the spot where Carrie Melvin was shot and killed, and decided he had to go downstairs. He had to see where it happened. As he walked to the spot, he cried as rush-hour traffic whirred by on Sunset Boulevard.