This little insight—that Yuri killed all of the Afghani girls—reveals an important tidbit of information.

He was a murdered. The girls didn’t just die as a result of over-punishment or because he was making an example out of them to the other girls. He enjoyed killing, just as my father enjoyed causing others pain.

Periodically, his desire to kill overcame his desire to make money, and someone died.

My trafficker wasn’t just a trafficker. He was a serial killer, and the victims came from his stable of girls he was trafficking.

I am thinking I began to realize this when I was five or six years old: the man who had the most power in my life took pleasure in killing and sooner or later he did kill in order to fulfill that desire. I understand why I am in parts. Because how else do you live with that kind of terror?

There is an upside to understanding this particular horror. Yuri was not ordinary evil. He was once-in-a-lifetime evil. I am unlikely to ever meet anyone that evil again.

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