Before I can knock, Ackerbee opens the door and looks at me nervously.

“Come in, come in!” he loudly says with false cheer.

I walk past him to the hallway. His wife is sitting in the living room, listlessly watching television. She doesn’t even react to someone coming into her home. I study her profile for a few moments. Her blonde hair is short, just barely coming down to the base of her neck. Her cheeks are sunken. She looks thin, but not a healthy thin. The kind of thin that either hints at the fact that she isn’t eating, or that someone is stealing her health.