Hey, guys! I don't know if you guys are still with me or not, but I wanted to apologize for taking so long to finish this up! There are just two more chapters after this (I know I said that for the last chapter, but this one kind of snuck up on me and inserted itself into the story, so yay for unplanned additions!) and then it will be DONE! I've been so busy with school work that I just never got around to finishing. But summer is almost here, so I really hope to have this completed and updated for you very shortly. Thanks for sticking with me and thank you so much for reviewing so faithfully! I hope you enjoy this "bonus" chapter of strong!

GRAVEYARD GRADUATION

"Whatever comes

Whatever breaks

I'll stand up straight"

Carson flew into the gym, hoping he wasn't too late. He mumbled his apologies as he slid past rows of parents, trying not to block their view. Mercifully, the small town community wasn't bothered by the disturbance. Peering around him, he sighed in relief when he spotted an open seat not too far away from the entrance. Mrs. Fayne waved him over to sit beside her husband and Mr. and Mrs. Marvin. Hannah sat in the row below them. She smiled when she saw him.

"You're just in time," Mrs. Marvin patted his knee as he sat aside her. The gym was sweltering, even with the fans stationed at the ends of the bleachers.

"The whole town must be here," Mr. Drew mused to himself. He'd never been to one of these things before, and honestly, he was nervous. Someone tapped him on the shoulder from behind. Turning, he saw Mrs. Nickerson smile down at him from the row above him.

"I'm so glad your case finished in time for you to make it," she gushed.

"Oh," Carson bristled a little, "Nothing could keep me away from my daughter's graduation. I wouldn't let a court date come between me and something this important." Mrs. Nickerson nodded, turning her attention to the stage as the school principal welcomed the audience. Carson turned to do the same, wondering why she was here. Ned had graduated last year, and the Nickerson's didn't have any other children. Did she come for Nancy? Hearing the first speaker begin the ceremony with the opening prayer, Mr. Drew pushed those thoughts from his head, not daring to see where they might lead him.

After the commencement speech, Deirdre Shannon stood to give the salutatorian speech. If Carson was honest with himself, he tuned most of that one out. That girl could chatter away, but she did work hard at her studies. The placement was well-deserved and honestly earned. Carson was relieved that her father couldn't buy his daughter's grades. He could tell that Deirdre took pride in her accomplishment, but that didn't mean her speech was any more appealing or less self-absorbed.

Next, Nancy stood to give the valedictorian speech. She kept it short, sweet, and to the point, but somehow managed to be inclusive of everyone and memorable. Carson proudly applauded when she finished, unable to hold back his grin. His neighbors and friends glanced at him, bestowing congratulatory smiles in his direction.

The audience quieted in revered silence as the students began to cross the stage, each receiving their diplomas. The silent sniffles of parents across the gymnasium encompassed him. As Nancy crossed the stage, Mr. Fayne passed his handkerchief down to Hannah, who gratefully took it from him. Mrs. Marvin tapped Carson's hand with a folded Kleenex. Startled, he took it. She smiled at him, turning back to watch for her daughter. To his surprise, Carson felt something roll down his own cheeks. He reached up only to find that they were as wet as those around him. Grateful for his neighbor's kindness, he dried his tears and continued to watch as the students claimed their hard-earned papers, one by one.

At last, all of the students had returned to their places, ready for the conclusion of the ceremony. In the moment before the speaker allowed them to move their tassels, Carson noticed the eerie silence. Everyone seemed to be holding in breaths of anticipation, waiting for the final moment. And as the room held perfectly still, Carson felt the coolest breeze slide across his shoulders, almost like a hand gracefully caressing him.

...

Elizabeth smiled broadly as she passed behind her husband, running her hand across his broad shoulders. She laughed giddily as George Fayne yelled at the top of her lungs, "We did it!" and a hundred black caps flew into the air. She watched as Bess Marvin squealed, jumping up and down with her closest friends, George and Elizabeth's daughter. "That's my girl," she whispered, blowing a kiss to the floor below.

"Mom…" in that one breath all of the pain of missing her mother rushed into her throat and threatened to fill her eyes with the wisp of long-lost memories. Her hand lightly grazed the top of the forlorn tombstone.

A light, afternoon breeze lifted the hem of Nancy's pastel blue dress. Her black gown was draped across her arm, and she held her cap loosely by the tip of her fingers. It was unusually chilly for a day in mid-May. Nancy suppressed a shiver and crossed her arms, hugging herself for a little warmth. She gazed around the empty cemetery, not quite sure what she was looking for. The sun hid behind nonthreatening, spring-time clouds.

"Appropriate, I suppose," Nancy sighed. Just then she heard footsteps approaching on the soft grass behind her.

"I thought I might find you here," Mr. Drew wrapped an arm around his daughter's shoulder. They stood in silence, gazing down at Elizabeth's resting place.

Finally, Nancy spoke up, "It's been so long, Dad…I can hardly remember her anymore."

"You were so young," he agreed.

She turned to her father, resting her head on his shoulder, "and what little I do remember feels like a dream." She looked up at him, searching his eyes for an answer neither of them had, "How do I know if what I think I remember is true?" She looked back at the headstone, "or just the whimsical wishes of a daughter who never knew her mother?"

Mr. Drew pulled away from his daughter, looking down at her curiously. "You did know her, sweetheart."

"That's not what I mean, Dad," Nancy sighed, "I just wish I knew whether she was creative or was she funny? Did she have an Irish temper to match her fiery red hair? Was she serious, like you? Or did she like to cook, like Hannah? Or did she burn everything but water?" She looked off into the distance, "Did she like cream in her coffee, or sugar? What did she do for fun?" She looked at her father, "Was there a certain football team that she rooted for? I don't know her, Dad. I don't remember anything about who she was, what she liked or didn't like. I don't even remember what she looked like?"

Carson smiled, looking down at his daughter. He held back the tears brimming at his eyes. Taking a deep breath, he kissed the top of her head. "Every time you look in the mirror, you see her." Nancy rolled her eyes. She wasn't in the mood for cliché speeches, and it wasn't exactly like her dad to give them.

"No, I mean it, Nan," he said, his tone serious, "Not only do you look just like her, but…" He sighed, trying to find the words. Grinning, he whispered, "That little wrinkle you get in your brow when you're stumped on a case… " That caught Nancy's attention. She glanced up at her father only to find him smiling fondly down at the ground.

"You get that from her," he went on, "And when you eat your favorite lemon tarts that Hannah makes, your eyes roll back and you slump in your seat." Nancy began to protest, hands on her hips, but her father laughed, "She did that too.

"Nancy, you may not remember much about your mother's tendencies and preferences, but every time I look at you, I see her. Your kind and gentle nature, your insatiable inquisitive nature, and even your stubborn determination. Nancy, I can tell you stories all day long, and I can answer your queries about what she was like. You can hear her laugh and see her smile in our old videos. Something might spark your memory. But the truth is that we will always miss her, and you don't have to remember her to know her."

Nancy tried to swallow the lump in her throat. She smiled through the tears that slid down her cheeks, unbidden. Nodding, she knelt down, running her fingers through the grass at the foot of her mother's grave. Satisfied, she stood and turned to go.

"You would be so proud of her," Carson mumbled, staring at the stone, "I wish you were here to…well, I just wish you were here." He turned his haunted gaze from the cold, lifeless ground to follow what he had left of his wife. He may have been able to abate his daughter, but he couldn't truly feel the peace in his heart that he hoped he had given her.