"When I first began writing 'Forbidden Love', I did it with the intention and belief that it would be a tribute to the memory of Dalia, and that by writing her story she would live forever through the pages of this book...But in the process I came to realise that Dalia has come to represent all victims of such crimes. There was a time shortly after her death when my mother tried to convince me that she is no different from the thousands of other young women this happens to every year and that I was no different from the many sisters, friends and mothers who silently mourn the loss of their loved ones. At the time, I could not accept that, could not comprehend that, because to me she was different, and my grief over her loss was not something that I believed, could be compared to anyone else's pain. Through the years following her death, I have come to realise what my mother was trying to say to me that day, and I've realised that the only difference between Dalia and the thousands, upon thousands of other innocent victims, is the fact that I loved her and her loss affected me personally. The only difference between me and the thousands of other women mourning the loss of their sister of friend or daughter is that I was, and still am, too stubborn to let her go in vain. I have come to realise and understand that I can not defend Dalia, be outraged over her loss, and yet not be affected by the loss of the thousands of other women that fall victim to such practices and traditions every year.