Charles turned back to the gravestone and he let his eyes take it all in. He wanted to remember it perfectly; to sear the image to his eyeballs. He wanted to see it when he closed his eyes, instead of the things the man under the ground had made him do.
"We should go," he whispered. He could still share terrible memories if they went somewhere else. "I don't want to be near him any more. Maybe into town or back to the hotel?"