It was a quiet, nondescript Saturday morning in Afghanistan when I received a call that would forever haunt my memory. The sun barely rose, casting a dim light over the dusty streets. My interpreter had received word that something terrible had just occurred inside an apartment on the edges of Kabul, indicating that a family inside needed help. We quickly made our way to a modest home, unclear what was happening, where an unimaginable tragedy had just unfolded.
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