The Triads - Part 2

Many of you may recall from earlier in the story that I spent seven weeks in Vietnam in 2009, mostly to find a place to live so I could be with Hong, but also to decide if I really wanted to make the move. These two audio recordings on the left are, in my opinion, jaw-dropping. After Jasmine jogged my memory, I remembered how deathly ill I became at 7’s wedding, the wedding where she married the Triad, and I was supposedly the best man.

Jasmine explains exactly what happened at that wedding. The photo below shows Hong with Nhung, just moments before Nhung offered me a sip of a drink that had been poisoned. That night, I genuinely thought I was going to die, but I wrote it off at the time as “jungle fever.” Jasmine later revealed that they didn’t fully trust my commitment; I’d given them the impression I might still change my mind about moving to Vietnam. She was absolutely right; I was still on the fence.

I didn’t realize what had really happened until Jasmine explained it, but looking back, it makes perfect sense. Reliving those events now, the pieces finally fit together.

In January 2011, I bought nine motorcycles for Hong’s family. About a month later, they tried to poison me again; something Jasmine later explained in detail. I remember getting extremely sick around that time, but had almost forgotten about it until Jasmine brought it up.

What’s remarkable is how her insights jogged my memory, bringing back details I’d nearly lost to time. The information she provided didn’t just fill in the blanks; it actually helped me recall events I’d buried or dismissed. It’s a testament to just how deep and persistent the danger was, and how easily some of these attempts could have faded into the background if not for those reminders.

This is also the point where I realized that Jasmine was actually communicating with my great-grandmother, not my grandmother, 99% of the time during our sessions. That distinction suddenly made everything click. My great-grandmother was the one guiding and protecting me, and so many of the insights and warnings Jasmine shared made perfect sense once I understood who was really coming through. It added a whole new layer of meaning to everything I’d experienced and explained why the details were so specific and personal.

After I returned to the United States, I started noticing flyers left on my door every so often. When I walked around the neighborhood, I realized the flyer wasn’t on any other door; not even on the vacant apartment upstairs. It was always for a Chinese restaurant a few miles away, not even close to my home.

It didn’t add up, and I quickly suspected it was targeted. My gut told me the flyer was left just for me, hoping I’d order so they could send me poisoned food. Jasmine later confirmed this suspicion; it was, in fact, a setup. The lengths they went to, even after I’d escaped Vietnam, were relentless. It was a constant reminder that the danger didn’t end just because I’d changed countries.