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I'm Amanda Knox, and you're listening to Hard Knocks.

I'm Amanda Knox, and you're listening to Hard Knocks.

I'm having a wee existential crisis.

For 18 years, I have been on what is felt like an epic quest for truth.

Ever since the fall of 2007, when my roommate Meredith was murdered and I was wrongly accused of killing her, I've been trying to set the record straight.

I tried with the police when they questioned me for 53 hours over five days in the wake of her murder.

They didn't listen. I tried in court. I was convicted.

My family tried to set the record straight for me while I was silenced in prison, but their

voices were buried beneath a mountain of misinformation and scandal designed to protect institutional

reputations at the expense of the truth.

Eight years after my arrest, the Italian High Court finally acknowledged error, but only partially.

The final verdict concluded that Meredith's true killer, Rudy Gadegh had committed her rape and murder with unknown others, and that my boyfriend Raphael and I were possibly present but uninvolved.

We were finally acknowledged as innocent, but the court left open the possibility that we knew more than we were telling,

and that we were covering for a killer and his phantom accomplices.

It was a logically inconsistent conclusion that

satisfied no one, not Meredith's family, and not me. I emerged into freedom legally exonerated

of murder, yet socially branded. Traumatized by multiple perpetrators over multiple years, I reentered a world

that did not seem like it wanted me. I was not only endlessly scrutinized and doubted,

but I was held accountable for Meredith's erasure. I was treated as if I had authored

all the headlines that had ignored her while putting an obsessive focus on me.

...