Natasha Stoynoff is a friend. Years ago, we worked together at People. In 2016, I learned a secret she had told a few trusted colleagues in the magazine’s New York bureau. Here’s what she later testified to under oath: While at Mar-a-Lago to interview Donald and Melania Trump in 2005, the future president assaulted her.

You may know that story, and those of

E. Jean Carroll

, Jessica Leeds, Karena Virginia, and others. Details blur, but a pattern of vile behavior ought to stick. Reminding voters falls to a handful of women who never wanted the job.

Last week, George Conway, the lawyer and anti-MAGA activist, rolled out ads featuring Stoynoff and Leeds talking about what happened to them. The spots are running on outlets where the former president may see them, in battleground states, and circulating on social media. More are coming. Eight years ago, my former coworker couldn’t have imagined she'd take the fight to Trump in this way. But as she said when we caught up recently, “I’m tougher now.”

Stoynoff never wanted this exposure and hasn’t profited from it. I feel some responsibility for what she’s lived through. Eight years ago, I helped persuade her to give a first-person account of her ordeal. She was reticent. I said what journalists always say, to someone who knew the score: Going public could help others and hold a powerful person accountable.

I believed those things. What I did not grasp was Trump’s capacity for viciousness, or how the new information ecosystem amplified it.

“Take a look, you take a look. Look at her,” Trump said at a rally after the story hit. “Look at her words, you tell me what you think. I don’t think so.”

Before the Trump era, scandals played out in predictable ways. There would be denials, explanations, and even apologies. Now that seems silly, but in 2016, a new politics of retribution was in its infancy. Our 45th president was its innovator.

Since then, Stoynoff, a dual national, has lived in Canada, where she was born. She likes to say she’s on the lam. While she comes to the States regularly, she does not make herself easy to find. Friends joke about how elusive she can be.

She’s found allies in the tight circle of women with similar tales of mistreatment. They call themselves a sorority. Last year, she testified as part of Carroll’s successful sexual battery lawsuit against Trump. After that came the collaboration with Conway.

“I’m still not registered with a political party,” she told me. “If Donald Trump was a Democrat, I’d be doing the same thing.”

If you knew Stoynoff, you’d marvel at this evolution. A stubbornly open-hearted person, she grew up far from Hollywood as “a kid who loved the movies.” She began her career as a fan, snapping pictures of stars at the Toronto Film Festival. She may work out at a boxing gym, but it’s hard to imagine her hurting anybody.

As a reporter, Stoynoff built a reputation for empathy. Subjects tend to befriend her and colleagues want to look out for her. All these years later, I’m saddened she felt she could not tell her editors about what happened in Palm Beach. She kept silent because she didn’t want to be labeled a problem or let down the side. Close colleagues steered her away from Trump assignments. Meanwhile, Trump’s celebrity only grew, and he used it to rise to power.

Had I known what happened in 2005, I believe I would have done the right thing. I’m hardly surprised Natasha did not want to risk it. The world, then and now, is too full of powerful people who get away with awful things. But when we spoke earlier this month, I was struck by her strength and optimism.

“I’m just not afraid of him anymore,” she said of Trump. “Age, experience, and telling the truth. That’s what’s changed.”

CultureWag: I’ve always felt some guilt about what happened after your story went public. Journalists persuade people that coming forward is the right thing to do. If I had it to do all over again, I’m not sure I’d tell you it was a good idea.

Natasha Stoynoff: Here’s how I remember it: I left People at the end of 2009, and now we’re in 2016. Trump had become the Republican nominee. No one was taking him seriously until then. The magazine was covering him and the family. I believe you were having a story meeting, and a coworker said: ‘Why are we doing all these stories about Trump after what he did to Natasha?’ And you were like, ‘Wait, what did he do to Natasha?’ Then you reached out to me through another colleague. She told me if I ever wanted to talk about it, I could. That was in early summer. I spent months thinking about what to do. We didn’t talk about it again until October.