A/N: John is not in this chapter by name, though he does appear at the very end for a brief moment. This chapter focuses entirely on Ronnie. Ronnie is still focused on Dolores' words as she was leaving, so she doesn't go straight home. She finds out where her mother's ashes were spread after she died and goes to visit her. The next chapter will focus on what everyone else (John, Dean, Ben, Lisa, and Jody) was doing during this chapter.

Most folks didn't know George's full name, or if they did, they still knew nothing about him, other than the fact that he watched over the cemetery on the edge of town. He made sure that it stayed kept up, that it was presentable, and that whoever still hung around there had a nice place to be. He kept records of everyone who had been sent there, as much as was possible. For every John and Jane Doe, he used his expertise as a former detective to try and find out who they were. If he couldn't, he simply gave them their own name and backstory, and talked to them so they knew they wouldn't be alone.

This wasn't the type of cemetery where family members came to visit, so when the teenager came limping inside the cemetery, looking around, George immediately assumed she was here to vandalize the place. It had happened before, and George was ready. He had a starter pistol that he kept beside him, that he'd fire into the air in order to scare off intruders. If that didn't work, he'd simply call the police and let them handle it. George was in his eighties now, and was simply too old to chase people off.

But there was something different about this kid. She didn't run when she spotted George, she looked relieved. She walked up to him with a slight limp, and when she got closer, he noticed that she was bleeding. Not a lot, but enough that she looked like someone had waled on her. George considered calling the police anyway, but he didn't want to scare the kid away.

"Hey there."

"Hi. Do you work here?"

"I do." George said. "Are you lost, sweetheart?"

"No. I'm actually looking for someone. Can you help me?"

"Who are you looking for?"

"My mom." The girl said. "She died about eight years ago. I was wondering if you could help me find where she's buried."

George frowned. "What's your name, honey?"

"Anne."

George could tell right away the name was fake, but if he called her on it, he was afraid the kid would leave. "I'm George. How old are you?"

"Eighteen."

Again, the answer came too quickly to be the truth. George guessed that she was no older than fourteen. "Honey, what do you know about this cemetery?"

"Not much. I know my mom was buried here."

"Sweetheart, no one's buried here." George said. "This is what's called a potter's field. The people who come here come because they don't have any family to pay for their burial. Everyone that comes here is cremated and their ashes are spread."

'Anne' seemed devastated at George's news. "You mean my mom's not here?"

"What was her name, sweetie?"

"Lily. Lily Wells."

"Hang on one second." George took out the notebook he kept with him and looked up Wells. He found it rather quickly and pointed out a large tree on the farthest end of the cemetery. "You see that big tree over there in the corner?"

"The one with the knot at the bottom?"

"Yep. That one. This says here that's where I spread your mom's ashes. I know it's not quite the same, but if you want to go over there and talk to her, you can." George said. "I promise I'll stay over here. You can have your privacy with her."

"Do you close?"

George smiled. "That's my house right there. It's four thirty now. I usually close the gate at five, but you can stay as long as you need to. If it's after five, then just come knock on my door and I'll open the gate for you."

Anne smiled. "Thank you."

"Here." George pulled a large flower out from his flowerbed. "You want to give this to your mom?"

"Thanks."

Anne, of course, was Ronnie. She had a feeling that the second she turned her back, the kind cemetery worker was going to go inside his house and call the police, but right now she didn't care. Ronnie thanked George again and headed in the direction he'd pointed. She figured she had fifteen to thirty minutes or so before someone came looking for her, and she intended to use all of that time.

It was more peaceful than she had imagined it would be. When she sat on the other side of the tree, away from George's house and away from anyone else, she could focus on what she'd tried to think about all day. Unfortunately, her brain turned back to Dolores' last words to her.

You think you're so special? That son of a bitch that took you in helped me escape! And he paid me to take you back! Even if you go back there, no one'll want you!

Ronnie's first instinct had been to go home. Back to John's, Ronnie thought to herself. A home of her own had been a longtime dream, and Ronnie berated herself for thinking that it had actually come true for her. She was a thirteen-year-old foster kid. She was the definition of unlovable. Five homes out of twenty-seven had been close to adopting her, but they always backed out at the last minute. The reasons sounded good when they were given. She's too needy. She's too old. She cries too much. She scares me because she's so quiet. I can't keep her because I can't protect her. For Ronnie, though, everything always led back to the truth. She didn't want to believe Dolores. But the evidence stacked up that way.

The only person who'd ever truly wanted her, and truly cared for her, was her mother. Taking a deep breath, Ronnie finally the conversation she'd always wanted to have.

"Hi, Mommy. It's been a long day out from school, huh?"

Ronnie heard a squirrel skittering up the tree behind her, and she watched it as she wondered what else to say.

"I used to hate squirrels. Do you remember? I think I called them tree rats or something." Ronnie laughed. "I think I got that from you, if I remember right."

She fell into another long silence, the words she'd desperately wanted to say to her mother for so long falling short. The longer she waited, the more it hurt, and the more it hurt, the harder it was for Ronnie to breathe. She knew she had to let it go, had to let out the anger and the pain and the guilt and the frustration. If she didn't, Ronnie was sure, she'd die.

"I don't know what to do, Mommy. I don't know where to go. I feel like I'm always waiting for you to come back, and I can't move on until you do."

Ronnie sniffed and wiped her face. She tried not to let her crying overwhelm her. It was the first time she'd felt safe to cry since she'd lived with Mona. Ronnie pulled out the picture she kept in her pocket of her mother and stared at it, trying to will her mother to appear and give her the hug she desperately wanted.

"I'm sorry, Mommy. I'm sorry I didn't help you that night. I'm sorry I didn't listen and leave the house when you told me to. I'm so sorry, Mommy…ow!"

A sharp pain coming from her hand broke Ronnie's thoughts of her conversation with her mother. She inspected her hand and found a tiny pool of blood trickling from it. On the ground next to her was an old orange tabby cat, curled up in a ball next to her leg.

"Did you bite me? That was mean."

The cat meowed loudly and poked at Ronnie leg with its paw, drawing a smile out of her. Ronnie cautiously put her hands on the cat's belly. The cat wrapped itself around her hand as Ronnie started to scratch.

"Are you lost too?" Ronnie asked. "You want to sit with me a while?"

The cat curled itself into Ronnie's lap and laid down. Ronnie immediately felt herself relaxing, even smiling at the cat. The cat was definitely a stray, with matted fur and dirt trapped inside it, but she purred deeply with contentment as Ronnie scratched and rubbed at her belly.

"You want to be friends?"

The answered meow finally relaxed Ronnie enough to lean back against the tree and focus purely on her breathing. The adrenaline that had driven her from Dolores out to the cemetery was beginning to wear off. She could feel the pain a little more sharply in her stomach now, where Dolores had kicked her in their scuffle. Ronnie was drifting off to sleep, and as she did, one of her few happy memories floated to the surface of her mind, filling her with a peace that more often than not slipped between her fingers these days.

Eight Years Earlier

"Okay, baby. You ready for this?"

Ronnie took her backpack from Mommy and looked at the crowded halls of the elementary school. Mommies and Daddies were everywhere, dropping their kids off and giving them hugs and kisses. Most of the kids seemed okay, and some of them even seemed to be excited. But Ronnie wasn't. She didn't know anyone here, and she didn't want to stay.

"Hey. Talk to me." Lily said. "What's wrong?"

"Do I gotta go to school?" Ronnie asked. "Why can't I stay home with you?"

Lily knelt down in front of Ronnie and adjusted her hair one more time. "Hey. Tell me something. What do you want to be when you grow up?"

Ronnie thought about for a minute, then grinned. "The president."

"The president? Okay. Will let me ask you a question. How many members of Congress are there?"

"Huh?" Ronnie asked.

"How many states are there?"

"Mommy, I don't know!"

"Well, that's why school's important." Lily said. "It can help you learn all the stuff you need to know for what you want to do when you're a grown-up."

"You mean I really can be president?"

"I don't see why not."

"What if I change my mind and want to do somefin else? Is that okay too?"

"Yeah, that's okay. But you got to go to school for it. Okay?" Lily said.

"Can you stay some? Please?" Ronnie asked.

Lily sighed. "You should really do this yourself, baby."

"Just a little bit. Please?"

"Alright. Just a little. Come on." Lily said, smiling and kissing her cheek. "Let's go. We don't want to be late."

Before Lily could get back up and take Ronnie's hand to lead her inside, Ronnie snaked both arms around her mother's neck and squeezed. "I love you, Mommy."

"I love you too, my precious girl. I love you too." Knowing that she wouldn't have much more of a chance to treat Ronnie like her baby, Lily lifted her up and carried her inside. "Let's go do this, okay?"

"Mommy? I think I'll be okay."

"You sure?" Lily asked.

"Yeah. I'll be fine. I can do this by myself."

"I'll take you inside and head back home. Deal?" Lily asked.

"Deal."

"Just remember one thing, okay? Mommy will always be with you. I'll always love you, no matter where you are."

"Love you too, Mommy."

George stepped out onto the porch to see if he could still see the little girl that had come earlier. He finally spotted her, sleeping underneath the big tree. He'd fixed her a bowl of the soup he had on the stove, but he set it aside in favor of letting her sleep. The poor kid looked terrible. George had just gotten off the phone with the police, and found out that the kid was likely a girl that had been reported missing from Sioux Falls just a few hours earlier. George smiled to himself. She reminded him of his daughter Yvette when Yvette had been around the same age. She wasn't nearly as sad, though. At least I hope.

"Don't worry, honey. I'll make sure you're taken care of."

George spotted something else that made him smile. The battered old tabby cat, who he'd named Ghost, was laying in the girls' lap like the two of them had been together forever. George chuckled and shook his head. He had never been able to get the cat to come inside or accept food from him. Guess you found a home now.

"I'll be damned."

A car was driving towards the cemetery. The car was beautiful. It was a Chevy, that much George knew, though he couldn't make out very many details from this far away. An older man got out, looking around frantically. George ran to meet the man at the gate.

"Can I help you?"

"I hope so. I'm looking for my daughter. I heard she might have come this way. Her name is Ronnie Winchester. Have you seen her?"