Their love story ended in a mass shooting. Their families are still trying to pick up the pieces

The proposal had to be perfect, just like a Hallmark movie.

Brandy Escamilla had saved money to purchase a custom-made engagement ring: a pear-shaped diamond from a jeweler in downtown Los Angeles. She just needed the right time to propose to her high school sweetheart, Josilyn Ruiz.

“Everywhere she went, she had the ring with her until she was able to propose,” said her mother, Blanca Escamilla.

The opportunity came in January 2022, up in the mountains of Banff in Alberta, Canada. In the middle of a frozen lake, Brandy got on one knee and asked Josilyn to marry her.

“It came out exactly the way she dreamed,” Escamilla said.

Less than a year and a half later, there was a knock on the door of the Ruiz family home in Walnut. Three Los Angeles County sheriff’s deputies stood outside. One asked about Josilyn.

“Don’t say another word,” her mother, Anita Ruiz, responded. In her heart, she already knew something terrible had happened.

The deputies explained that a gunman had opened fire on a crowd at a music festival in Washington state. Brandy, 29, and Josilyn, 26, were both killed.

They were the definition of soulmates, said Leilani Ruiz, Josilyn’s sister-in-law. “Their love was deep, unconditional and timeless.”

The pair met in high school. Together, they graduated from Mount Saint Mary’s University, Los Angeles, in 2018 and later went on to work as nurses in the COVID-19 unit at City of Hope in Duarte.

“They worked extremely hard, but they played hard,” Anita Ruiz recalled. “It was very beautiful to watch them travel, go to concerts, eat fine food and mature together.”

After getting engaged, they moved to Seattle as travel nurses “to become their own people and live on their own,” she said. “And they did it.”

They were attending the Beyond Wonderland electronic music festival on June 17 at the Gorge Amphitheatre, a normally idyllic venue near the Columbia River, when a man started firing into the crowd, officials in Washington state said.

The next day, Father’s Day, a trio of sheriff’s deputies made their grim pilgrimage to the Ruiz family home.

Blanca Escamilla and her husband, Eddie, were at their grandson’s baseball game when they received a call from Ruiz. Police had been trying to contact them at their home in Norwalk.

“I just went down on my knees and started screaming,” Escamilla said.

Josilyn had a big heart and always stood up for other people, according to her mother. She enjoyed playing sports: volleyball and some softball.

In middle school, Ruiz found a love letter in which Josilyn came out to another girl. Ruiz said she was initially taken aback; they were a Catholic family.

One day, at a football game, Josilyn told her mom she was meeting someone and was nervous.

“From then on, we knew about Brandy,” Ruiz said.

She admits she was not very supportive of the relationship at the beginning.

“Once I got to know who Brandy was, and I came to terms with who my daughter is, and who we raised, I embraced it,” she said. “Brandy was just another family member. We grew to love her.”

At Mount Saint Mary’s — a private, Catholic university — Josilyn started a Gay-Straight Alliance club. “She opened a door for other students to speak out,” said her father, John Ruiz.

“She lived life on her terms, and she was going to carve out a way for her and Brandy to have an equal life like any other couple,” Anita Ruiz said. “She wanted people to be accepting of others, to love and be open about love.”

Brandy was petite but feisty, Escamilla said. She stood about 5 feet, 2 inches, “but fought like she was 6 foot 5.”

As an adult, Brandy was her family’s house nurse, but Escamilla still remembers her as the little girl who would wear her high heels while she was at work.

Brandy loved to play softball. “For the eight or nine years that she played it, our life with her was in the softball fields,” said her father, Eddie.

One day, when he was about to leave for work, he saw a then-unfamiliar girl pushing a bike with a flat tire. She asked him if this was Brandy’s house.

Josilyn, who lived about 20 miles away, had walked most of the way to come visit.

“They really loved each other,” Eddie Escamilla said, laughing.

Blanca Escamilla said she always knew her daughter was a lesbian, and waited patiently for her to feel comfortable talking about it. But Brandy was her father’s pride and joy, and worried he would be disappointed.

Brandy started crying when she came out to her father. He told her, “I wished you would have told me this sooner so you didn’t have to go through this pain.”

Three other people were injured in the June 17 shooting. Officials have identified the suspect as James M. Kelly, 26, an active-duty member of the U.S. Army based at Joint Base Lewis-McChord in Washington state. He will be arraigned in Grant County Superior Court on July 5.

“The families of the victims are suffering intensely,” said Ruiz family attorney Kevin Boyle, who also represented victims of the 2017 mass shooting at a music festival in Las Vegas. “They are not litigious people, and they are not after money, but they do want to know why this happened and how it can be prevented in the future.”

Though they are gone far too young and far too soon, Eddie Escamilla said he thinks Brandy and Josilyn lived a full life.

“Even though their lives were cut short, it seems they lived long lives because of all the traveling and all the food they ate,” he said. “I’m 53, and it seemed like Brandy lived more than me.”

John Ruiz said he remembered recently calling his daughter and asking about their upcoming plans. They were on their way to a kickboxing gym. The next day he called, she told him that they had bought a kayak down the street.

“Our girls knew what they wanted out of life and in their relationship,” he said. “They brought out the best of us as parents and all the people around them.”