On a humid August evening in 2013, a quiet Pennsylvania home became the scene of a shooting that would tear a family apart and raise troubling questions about what really happened in the final moments of Melissa Rocuba's life. Airlifted to a trauma center with a gunshot wound to her head, the 49-year-old woman clung to life while her loved ones raced to her bedside, unaware that the truth behind her injuries would remain elusive for years.
The emergency call came just before 10 PM, shattering the peaceful routine of a rural Pennsylvania community. Melissa's daughter, Chelsea Cicio, who lived next door to her mother, arrived at the hospital in a state of shock. At just 22 years old, she struggled to comprehend the nightmare unfolding before her.
"I had no idea how I got down there," Chelsea later recalled, describing her frantic drive to the medical center. "I was just panicked and frantic."
Meanwhile, Melissa's sister Sabrina Rocuba, living hundreds of miles away in Wisconsin, received the news that every family member dreads. She sped to the airport through tears, her mind filled with desperate prayers for her sister's survival.
"It was just a lot of me just praying to God that my mom was gonna be OK," Sabrina said, the familial term "mom" reflecting the close bonds within the Rocuba family.
The victim's father, a police sergeant in a neighboring county, and her sister Joanne Swinney also made the urgent journey to the hospital. What would normally be a multi-hour trip was completed in a fraction of the time, driven by adrenaline and fear.
"It's a few hours of driving," noted one investigator familiar with the case.
"Not that night," Joanne responded. "...we got there really fast."
At a different medical facility, Bruno Rocuba, Melissa's husband of over two decades, was receiving treatment for his own gunshot wound—a clean hole that had pierced straight through his palm. The circumstances of how a single bullet could pass through his hand and strike his wife in the head would become the central mystery of the investigation.
The Husband's Account
Within 15 hours of the shooting, with his hand freshly bandaged and Melissa on life support, Bruno Rocuba walked detectives through his version of events. Using a toy gun provided by investigators, he demonstrated how he believed his .40 caliber pistol had discharged accidentally.
According to Bruno, the couple had returned home around 10 PM after an evening out with friends. He told detectives they went downstairs to wash up before bed, with no arguments or tension between them.
"Got home from work at 3:30 in the afternoon," Bruno explained in the recorded interview. "And we came home just before 10, and after that we went downstairs, washed up, came up to go to bed."
Bruno claimed he had left the loaded firearm in the nightstand drawer for his wife's protection while he was away on business the previous week, citing recent break-ins in their area. With their grandson scheduled to visit the next day, Bruno said he wanted to secure the weapon properly.
"My wife was home alone all last week," he told investigators. "So, I left it in the top drawer on the nightstand for her because of recent break-ins."
He described sitting on the edge of the bed, pointing the gun to the left side with his right hand while checking the chamber. Melissa, he said, was sitting up in bed watching television when she suddenly leaned back. At that moment, Bruno claimed, the gun fired.
"I went to check the, um, chamber to see if there was a round in there," he stammered. "I must have pulled it away and then shot through my hand."
The Evidence and the Questions
Investigators who processed the scene found no evidence of a struggle. Hospital staff noted no defensive wounds or other injuries on Melissa's body. Friends who had been with the couple earlier that evening insisted they appeared happy and affectionate.
Jack Wilczewski and his wife Tonia had joined the Rocubas for dinner that night and described the evening as completely normal.
"They were holding hands," Jack recalled. "There was no arguments that night."
Bruno himself looked family members in the eye and assured them of the same: "We walked in the house holding hands … there was no arguments that night."
Yet the physics of the shooting troubled detectives. The trajectory required precise positioning—Melissa would have needed to be positioned exactly in line with the gun's barrel at the precise moment it fired. The angle seemed improbable for a truly accidental discharge.
The Silent Witness
What investigators haven't publicly detailed is what, if anything, the home's security system captured that night. The title of the original report suggests video exists showing Melissa's "final moments," but authorities have remained tight-lipped about its contents.
In cases like these, home security footage can be either damning or exonerating. Did the cameras capture a loving couple preparing for bed, supporting Bruno's account? Or did they record something else entirely—an argument, a threat, a reconstruction of events after the fact?
Legal experts note that such evidence is often the key to unraveling domestic shooting cases, where the only surviving witness is the person holding the gun. The positioning of individuals, the timing of movements, and the presence or absence of certain behaviors can make or break an investigation.
A Family Divided
As Melissa clung to life for several days before ultimately succumbing to her injuries, her family grappled with impossible questions. Was this truly a tragic accident, as Bruno insisted? Or was there a darker truth hidden beneath the surface of their 25-year marriage?
The Rocuba children found themselves caught between grief for their mother and loyalty to their father. Extended family members, including Melissa's police officer father, brought their own professional skepticism to the investigation.
Pennsylvania State Police have never officially closed the case as an accident, leaving it classified as an open investigation. For over a decade, the file has remained active, with detectives periodically reviewing evidence and waiting for new information to surface.
The Legacy of a Life Cut Short
Melissa Rocuba's death certificate lists the manner of death as "undetermined"—a rare classification that speaks to the ambiguity of the evidence. For her family, there is no closure, only the endless replay of that August night and the questions that haunt them.
Did a moment of carelessness with a firearm rob a family of their matriarch? Or did something more sinister occur behind closed doors? The security video that may hold the answers remains locked in an evidence room, a silent testament to a tragedy that refuses to be neatly categorized.
As true crime documentaries and podcasts have brought renewed attention to cases like Melissa's, her family continues to hope that someone, somewhere, might come forward with the piece of information that finally reveals the truth. Until then, they wait—and remember the woman who was taken from them far too soon, her final moments preserved on video but her truth still waiting to be told.