"Epstein Unredacted"

The truth was not merely hidden. It was manipulated to harm people, to block accountability, and to prevent closure for victims who deserved answers long ago.

I have learned the hard way that truth in America does not arrive on a white horse. It limps in, bruised, delayed, often dragged there by people who refuse to shut up and sit down. And for years now, when it comes to Jeffrey Epstein, the truth has been deliberately slow walked, lawyered to death, buried under redactions, excuses, and a bureaucratic shrug that said nothing more to see here.

But the voices of the people, the public, the press, the victims, and yes, even members of Congress, did not buy it. They kept pushing. And now, finally, the law of the land has answered back.

Next week, members of Congress will sit in a Justice Department room, staring at government computers, forbidden from bringing phones, tablets, or even staff. They will take notes by hand like it is 1985. No downloads. No screenshots. No leaks on the walk out the door. Just lawmakers, the unfiltered Epstein files, and the weight of what those pages represent.

This moment did not come from conspiracy theories or internet sleuths chasing shadows. It came because people demanded accountability. It came because survivors refused to be erased. And it came because lawmakers on opposite ends of the political spectrum finally agreed on something fundamental. The American people are not children, and the truth does not belong exclusively to the Justice Department.

And yet, in the absence of truth, lies metastasize.

I know this not as an observer, but as a target. Over the last several weeks, I have been mercilessly attacked by rage baiters and bad faith actors who seized on two documents that merely contained my name, stripped of all context, weaponized for clicks and profit, and blasted across social media as proof of something they were desperate to believe.

One involved a document showing Congresswoman Stacey Plaskett live texting with Jeffrey Epstein while I was appearing before her and being questioned by her during a House Oversight Committee hearing, a fact conveniently ignored by those more interested in proximity smears than inconvenient truths. The other was a routine letter from my attorney to the United States Attorney’s Office seeking a Rule 35(b) reduction based on cooperation connected to the Jane Doe case, a case later withdrawn by counsel because no plaintiff actually existed.

There was no allegation of wrongdoing. No evidence. No accusation. Just process. Just paper. But in the fever swamp, facts do not trend. Insinuation does. And the damage was not theoretical. It was personal. It landed on me.

That is precisely why transparency matters. Because when the truth is withheld, the vacuum gets filled with malice.

Let me be crystal clear about something, because the noise has been deafening. Wanting transparency is not about feeding gossip or indulging in speculation. It is not about turning trauma into a partisan sport. It is about justice, real justice, for children who were exploited, abused, and then forgotten by systems that were supposed to protect them.

For years, the government told us the case was closed. No more charges. No more names. No more disclosures. Trust us. And if there is one thing I know better than most, it is that trust us is usually the opening line of a lie.

When the Epstein Files Transparency Act became law, it was supposed to end that chapter of secrecy. Instead, what we got was a document dump riddled with black bars, missing context, and in some cases, horrifying failures to protect victims’ identities. Thousands of survivors, over a thousand by the government’s own count, were treated like an administrative inconvenience. Their pain reduced to footnotes and filing errors.

That is not transparency. That is damage control.

Now Congress gets a look behind the curtain. Not all of it, let us not kid ourselves, but enough to finally ask the questions that should have been answered years ago. Who knew what, and when. Who was investigated and quietly cleared. Why were decisions made not to pursue certain leads. And perhaps most damning of all, were reputations protected at the expense of justice.

The Justice Department says hundreds of thousands of pages remain withheld under various legal privileges. Fine. Privilege has a place in the law. But privilege cannot become a shield for institutional embarrassment or moral cowardice. The law passed by Congress was explicit. Internal deliberations, charging decisions, and declinations were meant to see the light of day. Not someday. Now.

This is not about vengeance. It is about accountability. And accountability does not threaten democracy. Secrecy does.

What makes this moment different is that it was not driven by one party or one ideology. It came from a rare coalition that understood something Washington often forgets. Congress is not meant to be a doormat. It is a coequal branch of government, and when it asserts itself, it can force the truth into the open.

But here is the part we cannot ignore. Reading these files will not be neat. It will not be satisfying. There will be no cinematic reveal, no single page that suddenly makes everything make sense. There will be names that raise questions, decisions that reek of fear, and silences that speak louder than any indictment.

And hovering over all of it are the victims, real people with real lives forever altered. They are not talking points. They are not collateral damage. They are the reason this matters.

So to those who spent months attacking anyone who asked questions, smearing them as reckless, opportunistic, or complicit, this moment belongs to the people you tried to silence. And to those who genuinely want justice, this is not the end. It is the beginning of reckoning.

Truth does not absolve on its own. It demands action. It demands courage. And it demands that we finally stop protecting systems and start protecting people.

The files are about to be read. History is watching. And this time, the lies will not be enough.

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We are not passive observers of the downfall. We are the resistance. We call out the liars. We drag corruption by the collar into the sunlight. We say the quiet parts out loud; and we don’t flinch.

But here’s the truth: I can’t do this solo. Not anymore.

The storm is already here. We are standing in it. And it’s wearing stars and stripes like camouflage, preaching “freedom” while it sells fascism at retail.

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