His office in the front of the restaurant remains untouched. The Post-It notes he left are still there.

But everything else is different for the family of Jesus "Chuy" Campos.

His daughter explains how she, her mother and brother have coped after her father was shot and killed three years ago by someone who attempted to rob him as he opened his restaurant, Otaez, in the early morning in Oakland's Fruitvale neighborhood.

"We're not living. We're just not dying," Darlene Franco said on a recent afternoon from the restaurant.

The shooting made front-page headlines - Campos was well regarded and known by the many patrons who were regulars at his two Otaez restaurants in Oakland and Alameda.

In the days after the shooting, city officials met with the family and community members of the mostly Latino district and promised justice. But no one was ever arrested.

Over the years, the homicide case was reassigned three different times.

It's one of 168 unsolved homicides in Oakland since Campos was slain in April 2011.

Oakland police were apparently so busy, that at times they failed to show up for scheduled meetings with the Campos family.

Socorro Campos met Jesus Campos in the late 1960s at Chichen, a long-gone restaurant where she worked as a waitress and he as a cook.

They soon married, and in 1986 purchased a small market in the Fruitvale district. Two years later, they opened their first taqueria and restaurant in a building two doors from the market.

With so many homicides in Oakland, Socorro Campos feels like her husband is just another name on a long list.

"She feels like the city and the government don't care about all the people who have passed away," her son, Roy Campos, said while translating for his mother.

In truth, her son said, so much time has passed that Socorro Campos would rather not know who killed her husband. Because if she did, then it would open old wounds and she would have to carry, in her memory, the face of the assailant.

One month after Campos was slain, there was a break-in at the restaurant. A month after that, a restaurant patron was struck by gunfire right outside the restaurant.

Campos' daughter, Franco, heard the gunshots and the screams and ran toward the restaurant, which was only three doors down from the family home.

"I saw the guy lying on the street and it brought back all those feelings for my dad," Franco said.

The shooting outside the restaurant was the last straw for the family.

Three days later, the Campos family abruptly left their home.

"We grabbed a few changes of clothes, and we just left," Franco said. "It just didn't feel right in Oakland anymore. I have three kids."

They have since lived in Alameda, where Roy Campos owns a home.

But every day, Socorro Campos returns to Otaez in Oakland to work. There, she places fresh flowers beside her husband's photo at a small shrine made for him.

No place is more familiar or comfortable than the restaurant where she cooked alongside her husband and where friendly hugs, while not listed on the menu, were part of every visit.

Yet on Oct. 18, the restaurant matron took a rare day off. It was her 60th birthday. It was the day she and her late husband had agreed they would retire together to enjoy the fruits of a lifetime of work.

Socorro Campos continues working.

"We just try to change the subject," Franco said. "Sometimes, it's still too much for her."