JENnifer rose kassidy
Jennifer Rose Kassidy
For over thirty years, people have asked me about Conrad.
They thought they knew the story.
But they only knew the version I allowed them to see.
They didn't know why I was in Sydney on October 8, 1994.
What was already broken, long before Conrad arrived.
What I was running away from.
A large, crumpled yellow envelope has sat on the top shelf of my wardrobe. It has travelled with me from house to house, country to country, a silent witness to everything that followed. Its soft creases and faded ochre hue speak of time passed, each corner reinforced with gaffer tape. Inside are photographs, police reports, journal entries, and faded facsimiles. Evidence from a bygone era, long before the digital world transformed how memories were preserved.
There’s even a postcard from Cape Town, written by Conrad.
For years, I believed the truth lived somewhere inside those documents.
But I was wrong.
January 1995 - Brisbane, Australia.
crated for shipment to London.
May 1995 - London.
