Killing another human being isn’t so hard. It’s the forgetting. After a while, the faces of those you’ve killed tend to sneak up on you. Sometimes it’s in a dream. Other times you might be sitting in a crowded coffee shop and have a nagging sense of familiarity from the person taking your order. Each death is another haunting, another memory, another bit of subconscious weight added to one’s being.
For Mac Walker, that weight was never so great as when he killed that child.