PSYCHE | geckophotos/Getty
The day I learned my great-grandfather was a killer, certain aspects of my own life became clear to me, snapping into focus with an almost audible click. I grew up hearing that my great-grandfather had been a powerful man who was equal parts obstinate, harsh and unlikeable. But until that day, I had no idea he had also been capable of maiming and killing thousands of people without remorse. As horrific as that realisation was, it was also revelatory. It led me to reflect on the power of addiction and the toxicity of family secrets, what counts as poison and what counts as elixir, and whether and how redemption is possible, and for whom.