The Victims

Every animal recorded here knew something their abuser never will: they knew how to love without condition, how to trust without reason, and how to exist in the world without cruelty. They purred in laps, they kneaded blankets, they pressed their faces against the hands of strangers looking for warmth.

The people who destroyed them will never understand what they took, because you cannot comprehend gentleness if you have none. You cannot mourn innocence if you never possessed it. The abusers are hollow; the animals they killed were whole.

This page is a memorial, and it is a promise. We document each victim not to dwell in grief, but to ensure that the weight of what was done is never abstract, never reducible to a statistic, never forgotten. These were living beings with names, with personalities, with the capacity for joy and fear and comfort.

We carry them with us. Every investigation we open, every network we map, every report we file, and every name we publish is done in their memory. The rage that drives this work is inseparable from the love that started it.

They knew more love in their short lives than their abusers will ever know in theirs. That is not poetry; it is a clinical fact. And it is the reason we will never, ever stop.