Cool air rustled through the trees of a cemetery, a chilly breeze brought in from the ocean nearby. With it came clouds, solid and hanging low across the horizon like a damp carpet. Everything seemed duller, colours more muted, air more heavy. A couple mourners stood in black to the side, in silence.

Then down the small, rocky road, came a car. It was small and grey and slowly, carefully pulled up to the grass. The engine shut off, and for a long moment, nobody got out.

Eventually, the handle twisted and a tall man in a light raincoat helped himself out. He stood there another moment, looking down at a note in his hand, and then up to the archway above the cemetery.

"This is the place," Dipper said, slowly stuffing the note into his pocket. "Grunkle Stan, I hope you're wrong about this."

He walked into the cemetery, and with no small amount of hesitation, began to inspect the first row of graves. They were all noticeably new, with clean-cut tombstones, laid flowers and recent dates of death. Dipper couldn't help but ache for the loss of life as he read them.

Here lies Ann Smith

Loving mother, dedicated teacher

(1965-2017)

He kept searching, although his thoughts swam with worry. They'd been looking for weeks; what if this was just another false lead? Grunkle Stan seemed certain that this was the place, but what if he was wrong?

And what if he was right?

"Excuse me?" A light touch on Dipper's shoulder made him turn to see a woman in mourning black, smiling at him in mild concern. "I don't mean to pry, but you seem a little lost."

Dipper nodded. "Yeah." Then he blinked. "I mean, no! Not lost, I-I know where I am. I'm just looking for somebody."

"Do you need help with that?" Her smile turned sad. "I've been, well, I'm pretty familiar with this place by now. If you gave me a name, I could point you in the right direction."

"No, thank you. That's really nice, but I can do this." He turned away and kept searching.

Time passed. Rain began to fall in a light drizzle, misting his hair and his coat. People left, but he stayed.

"Oh..."

And eventually...

"Oh, no..."

He found what he was looking for.

"Oh, no, no, no." Dipper sank to his knees. "How could I let this happen to you?"

Because there, on a plain gravestone, was inscribed:

Here lies Mabel Pines

Beloved friend

(1941-1999)