In college, I wrote my senior thesis on the human need to connect and the power that holds over all of us. Why do we keep reaching for people even when we suspect it may not be good for us? The research culminated with me joining a cult for a six-month period. It was all very upfront, which was the only way the school would let me join an actual cult (rules, rules, rules, amiright?). They felt I was a viable conversion subject, because they believe everyone should join. I knew what they were and went in knowing that. It was, weirdly, mutually beneficial and fascinating. I will never forget the initial sessions where we sat in a circle in a college dorm and talked about the worst thing we had ever done in our lives, their own form of forced trauma bonding. We were all getting the connection we wanted, even if none of us were sure about the end state.

It came to mind as I listened to this week's pick, which is also about connection, and about how bad actors can make it so that no matter how much you push against your instincts, you still find yourself drawn into a larger plot.

The pick is Sweet Bobby, six episodes from Tortoise Media, reported by Alexi Mostrous, and my college thesis kept coming back to me the whole way through. People push past the signs because connection is what they came for. I did it myself, on purpose (because who doesn't want to join a cult for a thesis?), and I could leave whenever I wanted. Kirat Assi, a radio presenter in London who was 30 when the first message arrived, kept getting handed reasons to stay by profiles she trusted, and not one of them actually existed.

And while it may look like I am about to give away big pieces of the plot, I promise I am not. The magic of this pod lives everywhere around the catfish, and nothing below will blunt a single reveal.

Here is the scene that sets the whole series in motion. It’s spring 2011 in Brighton, where a bachelorette night—or hen night, because this show is UK-based and I like writing articles where I can imagine myself with a fancy accent—is underway at a Hawaiian-themed club Kirat calls Lola's (the accent gets slightly less fancy here). Kirat has been messaging a man named Bobby for about five months, a cardiologist connected to her community, a friendly shoulder, nothing romantic. Then Bobby walks past her in the club. The real one. She goes over to say hello and he looks at her like a stranger, because to him that is exactly what she is. She decides he must have had a few too many, lets him off the hook, and goes back to the party. Mostrous names the episode "Sliding doors" and admits that listening back makes him want to reach through time and shout at her.

I am leaving the scene right there, because the show itself tells you in its opening minutes that Bobby is not what he seems, and everything past that point you should meet the way Kirat did.

The scale of this is astounding: dozens of invented characters who confirmed each other's stories, a supporting cast deep enough to staff a scripted drama. The reason I am asking for four of your hours is a structural choice Mostrous makes, one I have never heard another true crime pod attempt. That is on the other side.