Frances Lucero’s mother is now raising the two children who witnessed the 2023 killing in Daly City.
REDWOOD CITY, Calif. — When a San Mateo County judge sentenced Romier Taguiam Narag to 64 years to life, the punishment answered the criminal case in court but left the daily aftermath with the family of Frances Kendra Lucero and the two children who saw her die.
The case has drawn notice not only for the murder conviction but for what followed outside the courthouse: grandparents stepping in, children growing older with questions, and a county again confronting the damage of domestic violence. Lucero was 27 when she was shot in Daly City in March 2023. Narag, the father of the children, was convicted last month of first-degree murder and child endangerment. At sentencing, the judge said Narag had “orphaned his own children,” turning the focus from prison time to the family left to carry the result.
Long before the sentencing hearing, the family’s public grief had already become part of the story. In a 2025 interview with NBC Bay Area, Lucero’s mother, Liezel Chan Lucero, said she was raising the children and trying to answer questions they were still too young to fully understand. “Is there a way to get ahold of my mom?” she said they asked. She described that question as a fresh heartbreak every day. A GoFundMe page created after the killing called Lucero a caring mother, daughter, sister and friend who gave her life to her children. Those details framed the case in human terms before the trial ever ended.
The killing itself was fast and public. Investigators said Lucero had returned home after dinner with the children on March 6, 2023, when an argument with Narag escalated. KTVU reported that Narag pulled out a 9-millimeter handgun and shot Lucero as she ran toward the home. Later court reporting said she was struck several times, including twice in the back, as she tried to flee. The children were 3 and 4. Daly City officers arrested Narag at the scene, and prosecutors charged him with murder and child endangerment. What is not clear from public accounts is how much the children saw moment by moment, though the court record and the judge’s remarks make plain that their presence shaped the prosecution and sentence.
The trial added details that sharpened the family’s account. Redwood City Pulse reported that surveillance cameras recorded the shooting and that Lucero’s brother ran toward Narag in an effort to disarm him. The jury convicted Narag after about four hours of deliberation following a two-week trial. Prosecutors said that speed reflected the strength of the evidence, which included witness testimony, video and the gun recovered after the shooting. Narag later apologized in court, but his explanation drew attention because he still shifted blame. According to courtroom coverage, he said Lucero had “pushed my buttons.” That statement stood against the victim-impact message from the family, which centered not on argument or anger, but on what two children had lost.
The broader context has only made the family’s story more visible. County officials later listed Lucero among women killed in domestic violence cases during a deadly year in San Mateo County. Local advocates and county leaders have since pointed to those killings while pressing for better coordination and prevention. Yet the Lucero case remains distinct because of the children’s ages and because the family has spoken publicly about what happens after headlines fade. The practical work of care now falls to relatives, not the court. Public reporting has not identified any new custody proceeding or separate family court dispute, suggesting that the criminal sentence, while major, addressed only one part of the long aftermath.
For now, the legal chapter is mostly complete. Narag has been sentenced to state prison on the murder conviction, firearm finding and child endangerment counts. Any next move would likely come through an appeal, not a new trial date. The harder timeline belongs to the children and relatives. Birthdays, school years and ordinary questions now mark the calendar more than court settings do. That is why the case continues to resonate: the state has imposed its punishment, but the family must still build a life around a loss that happened in front of the youngest people in the house.
The sentence ended the courtroom fight on March 5, but the family story remains unfinished, carried forward by a grandmother raising two children and by a memory of their mother that relatives continue to describe in the present tense.
Author note: Last updated April 6, 2026.