My father gave me the name of his sister, Safia, who, he would say, had been killed by French soldiers during the Algerian War. When my father died, I decided to go in search of this other Safia, about whom I knew almost nothing. Over the course of a journey that takes me from Brussels to Paris and then to Kabylia, I begin to weave together the threads of a personal but also collective history, deconstructing the silence that has confined women—including those in my family—to shame and guilt.