Fifty years ago, my mother and my aunts fled Cambodia under the bombs of civil war to find refuge in France. After years of silence, we are embarking together on a return to the land of their youth, tracing the footsteps of our missing parents and a fragmented memory. It is time to confront the terrifying reality of what our family endured under the Khmer Rouge regime: exile, forced labor, torture, and death. An unbearable reality that at the time was cloaked in ideals of independence and social justice. My family believed in this dream. Like other Cambodians in exile, my uncles and their friends enthusiastically joined the Cambodia of the Khmer Rouge. More than a return to an illusion, we seek to understand, through this journey, why our parents died, in hopes of rediscovering a memory and perhaps a family.