Litchfield

I’ll admit, I was skeptical going into *Litchfield*—another true crime book about a headless murder in flyover country? But Wm. Stage pulled me in with the first chapter, not with shock value, but with the chilling mundanity of the crime’s aftermath. The prose is taut, almost clinical, which only amplifies the horror when the cracks in the town’s facade start to show. Virtual Voice’s narration is a standout: their measured, almost monotone delivery mimics the way small-town gossip spreads—controlled, hushed, and impossible to shake. The pacing is deliberate, letting the tension build like a slow-burning fuse. That said, I wish Stage had spent more time on the killer’s psychology—we get fragments, but the full picture remains frustratingly out of reach, a deliberate choice that works but also leaves me wanting more. The audiobook’s production is crisp, with no distracting sound design, which is perfect for focusing on the story’s raw power. The only misstep? The epilogue feels tacked on, a half-hearted attempt to wrap things up that falls flat. Still, *Litchfield* is a haunting listen, the kind that lingers long after the final word. If you want true crime that’s less about the gore and more about the why, this is your book.