Me: Hey all! Well, I'm very proud of myself--this is my first challenge fic, and I think that it turned out quite nicely.

Jack: (looking over my shoulder) Ya finished it?

Me: Yep. The challenge was "Write a scene that takes place at the grave of a newsie."

Dutchy: Who'd ya kill off?

Me: Not telling.

Specs: Oh, come on. Tell us!

Me: No.

Spot: Tell us, or I'll soak ya! (holds up cane threateningly)

Me: If ya bums don't knock it off, I'll kill all of you off. (newsies all look at each other, then agree to shut up) Thank you. (turns back to my computer) Sorry about that. Anyways, before I start the story, I'd like to give a huge thanks to Vireyda Magodaly for all the help that she gave me with this fic. I couldn't have done it without her! And now, without further ado, on with the story!

It has been almost a year since it happened. Part of me has been in denial about the whole thing this entire time. But that is why I have come today. I am finally ready to move on. At least, I think I am.

The frost-covered grass crunches under my worn out boots as I cross the desolate graveyard. A cold wind blows, and I pull my threadbare coat tighter to me, trying to fend off the December chill as I reach the grave.

Kneeling down, I run my hand lightly over the tombstone, tears beginning to form in my eyes as I read the date again.

March 17, 1882-January 13, 1901. I shake my head sadly. So young…only 19 years old when it happened. I just sit for awhile, thinking about the past year. I also think of the future, about what I'm going to tell my daughter, Rogue, when she gets old enough to ask about her Daddy. I hear someone walk up behind me, but I don't turn around. I'm not quite ready to leave.

"Bookworm?" I look behind me and see Dutchy standing there, looking somewhat awkward, holding a small bundle in his arms. The small bundle is my baby girl--who is crying at the moment. "I think she wants her mom." I smile and stand up. Gently taking my two-month-old daughter from him, I start to sway back and forth slightly, trying to get Rogue to stop crying.

"Shhh, baby. Mommy's here," I say quietly. She quiets down the moment she hears my voice, and she smiles up at me. I smile back at her, though my heart breaks at the same time. Her Daddy will never have a chance to see her smile. I look back up at Dutchy. "Thanks for watching her." He smiles.

"You're welcome." There's a pause, then he speaks again, sounding nervous. "What are you going to tell her?" he wants to know. I think about it for a moment before answering.

"The truth," I say. "I'm going to tell her exactly what happened the night that…" I trail off, still finding it difficult to say. After a few moments, he asks the question that everyone wants to know the answer to.

"What did happen that night, Bookworm?" he asks gently. I simply look at him for a minute or two, trying to decide where to begin.

"It was the day I found out that I was pregnant with Rogue. Of course, we didn't know that it was a girl, but that didn't matter. He was so thrilled that he was going to be a father. We decided to go out and celebrate. Everything went fine until we started back towards the Lodging House. We were passing by an alley when I was suddenly grabbed and forced towards the back end. He tried to fight them off, but Morris had a knife, and Morris stabbed him in the gut. He fell, and didn't get back up. Luckily for me, Oscar and Morris heard the bulls coming, so they ran, leaving me alone with my dying husband." Tears are running down my face as I talk, but I don't stop the story. It needs to be told, so that my daughter's father's heroic sacrifice can live on. "He told me not to worry, that he'd be alright, but I could tell that he was lying, and he knew it. He told me to continue living so that I could raise our child. He wanted me to move on." I turn and look back at the grave, then I turn to face Dutchy again. "I think I'm finally ready to do just that." I look down at Rogue. "I want to make sure that she grows up knowing that her Daddy was hero." Dutchy smiles at me.

"I'm sure she'll never doubt that." A brisk wind picks up, whipping my brown hair in all directions. I shiver slightly and pull Rogue's blankets tighter around her. I come to a sudden decision, knowing it's what he would have wanted me to do.

"Could you hold her for a moment?" I ask. Dutchy nods, and I gently place Rogue in his arms. Turning back towards the grave, I slowly slip the ring off my finger and place it at the base of the tombstone. Turning back, I take my daughter back, and we start to walk away. Taking one last glance back, I say a final goodbye to my best friend and husband, Racetrack Higgins.