"That's what I was thinking," he admitted. He pulled her closer to him, shaking now and not from the cold. There were fading winter flowers on the grave and as Charles stared at them, it was anger that replaced the sickness in his stomach.
Suddenly he dropped Piper's hand and he fell to his knees, ripping at the flowers, tearing them out by their roots. Perhaps it wasn't fair. The man's family had probably planted those flowers in the memory of their lost loved one. But it was all lies, and beneath the ground lay the bones of a monster. And monsters didn't deserve flowers.
As he ripped and dug at the twisted stems, he burst into tears, sobbing as he tore the offending vegetation from the ground.