Everything that happened within the walls of a prison, everything, was known to staff almost the moment it happened. And sure, fights broke out that guards weren’t able to attend to immediately, because it simply was impossible to have a guard in every room within a prison. Every letter an inmate received was read, every piece of post, clothing and whatnot they got from the outside, all checked and secured. A person with a conviction for hacking wouldn’t be allowed to have any device with technology inside. Not even the most old-fashioned radio, perhaps a 1950s one, forbidden for those people. Just like you wouldn’t allow someone convicted for sexual crimes to have naked pictures on their walls.<br/><br/>After the group meeting, Dr. Montand locked the door of his office. He sat down, sipping a mug of strong black coffee. He was going through the new inmates, to see whether they could be helped with his scheme. But the moment the teacher chose to go down for Margaret, he knew about it, and because she chose to go down for the older inmate, he crossed her off his list. She wasn’t suitable anymore to be helped. She had made a clear choice of going for help among the other prisoners. And for him it was either/or, not both. He knew that two of the others, Ms. Bloom and Ms. Williams weren’t ones that would ask for his help. He had ruled them out even before the group meeting and their introductions had only confirmed his initial thoughts.<br/><br/>It left only one person, Ms. Andrews, Cam, who he could potentially help in his scheme. Of course, he thought, while finishing his thought-process and his coffee, he would have the planned meetings the coming week and with both Ms. Marlowe as Ms. Andrews he was going to have multiple session, as individual sessions were part of their sentences. He picked up both their files. Could it be, he continued thinking that Ms. Marlowe had a split personality syndrome? And that such a syndrome had prevented her to make well thought-out decision about the students she had sex with?<br/><br/>He moved to the file of Ms. Andrews, a lot was written in it, she had seen specialists galore, but it seemed nobody had been thinking that perhaps she was just an evil girl? One who committed those murders for the fun of it? Not because of some reason dating back a long time, just the thrill of slicing a man’s throat. Time would tell, in both cases. With the other two he was convinced that one individual session would be enough, maybe not even ten minutes of conversation. They both didn’t seem the kind of girls who needed individual therapy.