That face, a face my mind can vaguely recall, those features all so familiar and yet so distant. Even as I walk away I know I know that face. If I allow it, that face will plague my dreams.

I must have another look.

That face stares back at me, tears in its eyes, mouth agape in horror. Ah, yes I know that face. It’s aged a bit, but I know it’s them. It’s the face of the child that watched me slaughter its parents fifteen years ago.

You never forget a face like that.