Rachel Aviv

Funny drawings from this week’s magazine.

In Southeast Oklahoma, a father-son reporting duo’s series on the county sheriff led to an explosive revelation.

The agency’s failure to block a merger of Microsoft and Activision Blizzard represents the latest in a series of blows to its campaign to rein in tech giants’ economic power.

I think what O’Connor sought in her music was anguish, laid bare, and then a gorgeous moment of communion.

In more than a hundred works of fiction, Oates has investigated the question of personality—while doubting that she actually has one.

The R. & B. titan shares a fictionalized version of her coming of age.

When Joyce Carol Oates was thirty-four, she started a journal. “Query,” she wrote on the first page. “Does the individual exist?” She felt that she knew little about herself—for instance, whether she was honest or a hypocrite. “I don’t know the answer to the simplest of questions,” she wrote. “What is my personal nature?”

I will lovingly monitor your arrival and departure times via security camera, and charge twenty dollars for every minute you are late checking out.

Colleagues reportedly called Lucy Letby an “angel of death,” and the Prime Minister condemned her. But, in the rush to judgment, serious questions about the evidence were ignored.

Lucy Letby, the most notorious nurse in Britain, was found guilty of killing seven babies. Did she do it? RACHEL AVIV