She had no idea. How could she have? He had come into her life as a savior not a murderer. He wasn’t short nor tall. Average height you could say. His slim body and pot marked skin gave off a non-threatening vibe. When you began talking he would lean back in his chair placing one foot dangling off his thigh. He would never blink as he sat taking in each word you said. His small brown eyes studied you through his round old glasses. This was how Dottie viewed him when she first met him.

She met George on her first day in rehab. He was her counselor and a deceptive counselor at that. Dottie had struggled with alcoholism her whole life and finally wanted to get clean. Dottie’s blue eyes became more focused each day as the alcohol slowly left her body. She saw George as her savior, the one who got her sober. He had really listened to her and was the only person who finally broke into her hard outer shell. By the end of her week in rehab he knew everything about Dottie. She spoke about her fears, her insecurities, her loneliness and more. She shared things that she had never even said out loud before.

Friday, September 14th Dottie left rehab feeling as if a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. She was ready to start her life sober. She was fully present and couldn’t thank George enough. Humbly he told her not to worry that it was his job to help people get back on track. He even promised to be her mentor/therapist going forward. Dottie gave him a quick hug and went on her way. After George said goodbye he went to his office and packed up his few belongings. He had been let go that day but he wasn’t worried. Just before switching his desk lamp off he put his book with the notes that he had taken about Dottie in his bag. Not because he cared for her but because she was going to be his next victim.