We held hands as we sat on our couch in the suburbs of California. Our jaws were slack, tears raining down our cheeks by the conclusion of the news report, which explained the sale of little girls in Svay Pak, Cambodia to men who raped and tortured them. My wife turned off the television and looked at me. “Did you have any idea when we were walking the streets of Phnom Penh last week that this was going on?” she asked. “No,” I answered. “But now that we know the truth, we have to go back. We have to do something.” That was 8 years ago and my wife, Bridget, and I have lived in Cambodia ever since.