(nw) Their daughter vanished in 1990 at her graduation…

“We’ll need to question Steven about the details of how he killed Mary,” the detective said quietly to another officer. An officer searching the area approached with a grim report. “Detective, we found something,” he said, his voice heavy. “About fifteen feet from here, there’s a patch where the soil composition is different. We did a preliminary dig and found bone fragments.” John’s legs buckled, and he sank to the ground. After 22 years of uncertainty and false hopes, the horrific truth was finally emerging.

The forensic team expanded their search, carefully excavating the indicated spot. As the day wore on, they uncovered more of Mary’s remains. The detective approached John, who watched the excavation in silence.

“Mr. Peterson, would you like us to call your wife? She needs to know about this.” John nodded, numb. “Yes, and please contact Emily Thompson too. She was Mary’s best friend. She deserves to know.” While they waited for Nancy and Emily, the detective offered to let John wait at the station, but he refused.

“No, I need to stay here,” he said firmly. “They need to see this, all of it, before anything’s moved. We’ve waited 22 years for answers. I have to see this through.” When Nancy arrived an hour later, her face was pale with shock. She rushed to John, and they clung to each other as the detective gently explained what they’d found.

Emily arrived soon after, her eyes red from crying during the drive. The three stood together at the edge of the crime scene, united in grief as the full picture of what happened to Mary became clear. Nancy turned to the detective, her voice trembling but resolute.

“We want to take her remains out of here. She deserves a proper burial in a peaceful place, not this awful spot where he left her.” “We’ll arrange that as soon as the forensics team is done,” Detective Morrison assured her. “It’ll take a day or two at most.” Emily stepped closer to the bone fragments, tears streaming down her face. Her voice broke as she whispered, “Why didn’t you tell me, Mary? We were best friends. I could’ve helped you. We laughed at girls who fell for guys like Steven. I don’t understand.”

As the sun began to set over the river, casting long shadows across the ridge, John, Nancy, and Emily stood guard over Mary’s remains. Finally found after 22 years of searching, waiting, and questions. “She’s coming home,” John whispered, squeezing Nancy’s hand tightly. “She’s finally coming home.”

A week later, a small procession gathered by the river, just below Windy Ridge. The day was unusually clear for rural Pennsylvania, sunlight pouring onto the calm river waves.

At the center of the procession were John and Nancy Peterson, joined by Emily Thompson, retired Detective Robert Sullivan, who came out of retirement to offer support, and Detective Morrison, who had brought Mary’s case to its final resolution. Following them were Mary’s former classmates, teachers, and the high school principal. News of Steven Larson’s arrest and the discovery of Mary’s remains had spread quickly through the small town, shaking a community that had never fully recovered from her disappearance 22 years ago.

John stood at the front, holding a small urn. After careful discussion, he and Nancy had decided against a traditional cemetery burial. Instead, they chose to scatter Mary’s ashes in the river, freeing her spirit from the place where she’d been confined for so long.

“Today, we gather to finally say goodbye to Mary Peterson,” the officiant began. “For 22 years, her family and friends carried the weight of her absence, the pain of the unknown. Today, we lift that burden and commit Mary’s remains to the river, where she will never again be bound or confined.”..