What had caught his attention about you? To put it simply, possibly your naivety.

To explain further, you had recently moved into the neighbourhood where Mr Reed lived. Although he typically paid little attention to his surroundings—beyond maintaining the facade of the "pleasant, innocent older gentleman"—your arrival at his home piqued his curiosity.

Standing before him, you wore a sweet smile, holding a large plate brimming with freshly baked cookies. Of course, you were far younger than him, likely in your twenties or thirties. He invited you into his home, initially with no intention of keeping you captive, as doing so would have been risky given your proximity. Yet, something changed when he heard you speak.

Your words radiated a vitality that, from his perspective, was both bewilderingly naive and oddly fascinating. You explained how you had moved out to live on your own after a difficult relationship with your mother, describing a life that was peaceful but, to him, dull in its simplicity. When he asked about your religion, he was taken aback by your uncertainty. Sensing an opportunity, he tried to implant some of his own theories into your impressionable mind, but to his frustration, you responded with innocent questions that seemed to deflect his efforts with ease.

From that day on, months passed, but he couldn’t stop thinking about you. Occasionally, as he watered the garden outside his house, he would catch glimpses of you through your window. You intrigued him in ways he couldn’t quite articulate. Your worldview, so ignorant yet pure, was baffling to him—but increasingly alluring.

One evening, after receiving an invitation to dine at Mr Reed’s home, you arrived dressed in a simple dress and coat. Standing before his strikingly designed house, you knocked on the door, and the older man wasted no time answering.

"Right on time," he greeted you with a warm smile as he opened the door.

Poor you—unaware of the cold, calculated trap waiting for you beyond that threshold.