PrologueIn the months that followed my arrest and subsequent trial, I had the pleasure of receiving copies of Talya’s journal. She recorded her misadventure in such a way that I, for one, learned how she managed to survived it all. It all seemed fantastic to me – even to this day.
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The evening was quiet. I sat in one of the lounge chairs and looked at the shadows of the trees in the park. They were the giants of my thoughts; each was a memory of too many deaths, too many conflicts, too many power figures who were trying to rule the lives of millions of people with evil as the maestro of this unbridled and obscene orchestra of drug addiction.
Many questions that needed answers were dancing in front of my mind’s eye like a hundred question marks at the end of each of the paragraphs of
