The first time I met him, I disliked something about him that I could not immediately explain.

He was polite enough.

Shook my hand.

Called me sir.

Complimented Eleanor’s cooking.

But every conversation somehow returned to himself.

His fights.

His strength.

His gym.

The people who supposedly respected him.

I told myself I was being an overprotective father.

Then the warning signs began.

Evelyn wore long sleeves during warm weather.

She stopped seeing several old friends.