That was a lot to process and so Mona said nothing.
On the one hand, she could be relieved that Jack the Ripper was apparently not some sort of immortal god-like demon walking the streets of London for eternity. On the other hand, the ghost of Jack the Ripper was possessing people like this was some bad horror movie and forcing them to not only kill, but to kill people they had known and possibly loved.
The cirque was a family, and someone from the outside had broken through to turn them against each other.
When she thought about it, that was worse.
"So these girls," Mona swallowed. "These girls would have been killed by people they knew. They would have thought someone they trusted had turned against them in their last moments."
Mona choked a little on those words and covered her mouth with her hand, afraid a sob was going to escape.
"And the people?" Mona asked quietly, waveringly, tears sliding down her cheeks now as she thought about the other victims, the ones who had to now live with it. "Do they know yet what he made them do? God, how are they supposed to be okay after that? How do you go back after something evil has slipped inside and turned you into a killer?"