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Hi listeners, I'm David Wheeler and I have a story I want to tell you.

A story of an investigation riddled with doubts and obscured by shadows.

So gather round and listen, close.

Mr. Caraway would never admit just how uncomfortable he felt in that house.

Why know that would only fuel the rumors already circulating among townspeople?

Rumors were like a fungus or some other contagion, spreading from person to person.

All it took was for one to say they had an itch before the whole town started scratching.

There was simply enough oddity about the house and the tired little woman that lived there

without Mr. Caraway adding to the mess.

If Mr. Caraway was uncomfortable in the cramped countryside home,

then Lila Nettles was quite the opposite.

Too comfortable, in fact, given the gravity of their interview.

Summer was fast approaching, the days stretching longer,

languid, lazy. But even so, Lila snuggled into her worn armchair and wrapped her

knitthro blanket more tightly around her shoulders.

Her knees were drawn up to her chest and she clutched one steaming mug of tea close to her face

like the little china cup could chase the chill from her bones.

It wasn't just her who felt the chill in the house.

Yes, Mr. Caraway was grateful for the small bit of warmth billowing from his own cup.

Yes, summer was fast approaching, but the house was dark and damp.

...