It begins with a slouch. Under the hum of hallway lights on a chilly Ohio morning, Jeffrey Dahmer drifts past, shoulders caved in, a ghost in his own life. His classmate, John Backderf, watches with an unease he can’t yet name. He is both friend and witness, caught in a story that feels chillingly normal—and that is precisely the trap.
We meet them not as historical figures, but as teenagers: ...
