The Road She Thought She Knew

AJ spent her childhood crossing Highway 401 to visit family in Toronto, London, and Windsor. It was a routine, familiar part of life—one that never hinted at the exploitation happening just off the exit ramps. That changed when a fellow producer approached her with a project idea: a documentary about human trafficking in Ontario.

Curious but unaware, AJ began researching. A single Google search—“Where does human trafficking happen in Ontario?”—opened a floodgate of information. It wasn’t buried in the dark web. It was out in the open. Survivors were speaking. Statistics were alarming. And all signs pointed back to the 401.

“I can’t pretend I don’t know,” she said. “Once I learned the truth, I felt responsible to tell it.”

The Survivors Who Changed Her

AJ reached out to two survivor leaders—Kelly Tallon Franklin and Katarina MacLeod. Both women had been trafficked in Canada and were now dedicating their lives to helping others escape and heal. Their stories—and their strength—became the emotional spine of “Dark Highway”.

Unlike many documentaries that simply extract sound bites from survivors, AJ embedded herself in their journey. She stayed in constant communication, shared full interview questions in advance, and even appeared on screen with some participants to ensure comfort and trust. “This wasn’t an investigation,” she explained. “It was a shared discovery.”

Through it all, she learned one thing clearly: the real experts in this space are the survivors.

The Dark Highway is Closer Than You Think

Highway 401 is the busiest road in North America and a major trafficking route. But the crime isn’t always obvious. It doesn’t look like a Liam Neeson movie. Victims aren’t always kidnapped and locked away. In many cases, they live at home, go to school, and return to their traffickers during lunch breaks.

The average age of entry into trafficking in Canada is just 13 years old. For Indigenous girls, it’s as young as eight. Predators build trust slowly—online, in schools, or in friend groups—before exploiting vulnerability.

And most victims? They’re Canadian-born.

What Happens After “Escape”?

In her research, AJ realized there’s a missing piece in most conversations about trafficking: what happens after someone gets out?

“There was almost nothing about life after exiting,” she said. “It’s not like you leave and everything goes back to normal. Survivors need support for years—decades even.”

This realization drove her to center the film not just on trauma, but on healing, community, and the long-term support survivors need. “Dark Highway” challenges us to stop asking just how trafficking happens—and start asking what we’re doing to help those who survive it.

This Isn’t Just a Film—It’s a Tool

AJ didn’t want “Dark Highway” to sit on a festival shelf. She partnered with Courage for Freedom, a Canadian nonprofit, to pair the documentary with survivor-led training for schools, social workers, and frontline responders.

Whether screening it in high schools or police training rooms, the goal is the same: to educate before exploitation happens—and support after it ends.

AJ calls it “the beginning of a conversation, not the end.”

What Parents and Communities Need to Know

• Trafficking doesn’t always look violent. It often begins with manipulation, not force.
• Survivors need long-term care. Exiting trafficking is just the beginning.
• Kids often know what’s happening to their peers. But fear and shame prevent them from speaking out.
• Safe adults matter. Every child should know at least one grown-up they can trust with anything.
• Survivors must lead the fight. Their lived experience is the key to prevention and support.

Conclusion

AJ Edmunds never set out to become an activist. But like many of the survivors in her film, once she saw the truth, she couldn’t look away. “Dark Highway” is more than a documentary—it’s a powerful act of witnessing, built to give voice, restore dignity, and drive change.

If you’ve ever driven the 401 or assumed human trafficking was a foreign problem, this film will make you look again—and ask: How can I help shield the vulnerable?