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Dear Detective Inspector Hills,
I need you to understand what happened — and why.
As far as I’m concerned, justice has been done, as best as it can be done. It doesn’t even come close to making up for what we lost — those valley communities — but knowing those vile bastards are dead and no longer living off the fruits of our misery is at least some consolation.
I need you to know what we went through. Houses are not just buildings. They’re homes. Everything our families had worked for. Gone. Some of those homes had been passed down through generations. My mother was born in our house. So was I. We knew nothing else. Can you imagine waking up one morning to someone telling you they were going to knock down your home and you’d have to move? No option. No appeal. Nothing.
It’s one of
