You sit back in your armchair and read.
"It was a dark and dreary night," begins the passage. A mysterious detective is on a case. "But all of a sudden, the mood shifted, for it turned out that the culprit was..."
The sentence suddenly ends.
"What was the culprit?" you ask yourself.
Suddenly, a knock is heard on your door.
You get up to answer the door. You are wearing pajamas and slippers.
When you open the door, a mysterious detective stands there. "Hello," he says, in a raspy voice, "you were reading my book, were you not?"
You nod. "Yes, but you never told me who the culprit was."
"Of course not," the detective replies, "that would be a spoiler."
"Then why are you here?" you ask.
"I'm here to take back my book," the detective replies, "you can't finish it."
The detective waits patiently. He has nowhere else to go.
You are both in limbo, waiting for the truth to reveal itself.
Suddenly, a noise comes from the window... a rustling in the bushes.
The detective's head snaps up. "The culprit!" he exclaims. "I've got her!"
The detective rushes outside, the book under his arm. You listen in, anxious to hear who the culprit is.
The detective returns to the door. He is breathing heavily.
"I've done it," he says, "the culprit is..."
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