He had new medicine to help with his anger, and we saw Mary, our counselor, three times a week, alone and together. Things were going very well, and it was not uncommon for him to sleep over. In the following weeks, everything seemed fine, except we were anxious for him to come home. Maybe soon, Mary said, but we should keep doing what we were doing since it was going so well. Then our nightmare began. What was it that put him over the edge and become the man that he hated so much?
