“That’s great to hear.” Katherine’s pencil was flying across the page. “If you feel comfortable, from your perspective now, can you tell me what you think happened at the stable?”
“With Tucker? I mean… it was weird. I don’t remember much.”
“Whatever you remember is fine.”
“We had a competition coming up for the rodeo team, so maybe that contributed?” Her voice became agitated. “If that’s what it was, I will never forgive myself for putting Tucker at risk.”
Katherine could hear that Sarah was looking for reassurance. “This wasn’t your first competitive event with Tucker, was it?”
“Oh no. We’d done dozens of rodeos before that.”
“Then I think there’s no reason to conclude the competition had anything to do with what happened.”
“Right.” Sarah let out a breath. “Thanks for that. You’re right. Like I said, it was weird. I went in the stables to find a quiet corner to do my visualization, you know? But all the things that were supposed to happen went opposite.”
Katherine’s pencil paused. “Can you elaborate on that?”
“It was as if someone broke into my head and started pushing me in the opposite direction of where I wanted to go.”
A chill crept down Katherine’s spine. “You felt like someone was pushing you?”
Chapter 12
“Yeah.” Sarah spoke after a long moment of silence. “It felt like a push. Almost a physical one.”
“Mm-hmm.” Katherine kept taking notes and ignored the voices screaming in her head. What are you doing? What are you doing?
If anyone ever found out she was speaking to Sarah Jordan about a confidential clinical study, she would lose her job. She could lose her career. Baxter could lose his career.
But her curiosity wouldn’t allow her to stop, and if she interrupted now, Sarah would know that something was very wrong.
Katherine wasn’t even asking questions; Sarah Jordan wanted to talk.
“Everything started out normally,” she said. “The same as it had been for months.”
As Sarah elaborated on what had happened the afternoon she overdosed her horse and killed him, Katherine pieced together what Ansel Shaver’s study was about. It sounded like Ansel and his fellow professors were combining biofeedback therapy with traditional drug treatment to measure the therapy’s influence on anxiety and dependence on medication.
Sarah sounded like she’d told the story before. “You know we’re supposed to do the visualizations at set times, right? But also if we start to feel a panic attack coming on. And I don’t know what triggered it, but I was definitely feeling the signs of one, so I immediately visualized the outcome and then tried to walk backward in my mind to make it smaller and smaller.”
Biofeedback therapy was a clinical process that focused on understanding and gaining control over involuntary stress responses like heartbeat, blood pressure, or breathing. By systematically learning the body’s reactions to stress through multiple sensor readings, a patient could then use techniques like breathing exercises or guided visualizations to learn control over those reactions.
Sarah’s voice began to waver. “But the visualization wasn’t working. For some reason, instead of walking backward, I felt like someone was pushing me forward.”
“I see.”
Biofeedback had a proven track record in treating things like migraine headaches and chronic pain. It had a growing record in treating anxiety, which meant that Ansel and his team were likely building on existing research.
As a clinical study, it was working off a very solid foundation.
“Not pushing me physically,” Sarah clarified. “But it’s like we learned in the lab. I took a breath and a mental step. Then another and another. It’s just that this time, the mental steps didn’t go backward like we practiced.”
“Right.” To Katherine’s mind, Sarah’s backward visualization sounded like a nightmare.
What had happened in that barn?
“It got worse and worse. After a certain point, I don’t remember what happened. People I talked to later said I wasn’t talking or reacting to anyone. I don’t remember any of it. I don’t remember going to Tucker’s stall. I don’t remember… anything.” She cleared her throat, but her voice was still hoarse as she continued. “It shouldn’t have ever happened, and I don’t know how it did. I did everything like we practiced at the lab. Tucker was… It probably sounds weird, but he was my best friend.”
“I’m so sorry, Sarah. I wish I could tell you why any of this happened.”
“I stopped everything for a while. I quit logging. I moved home. But then I started having trouble sleeping again, which is why I signed up in the first place. So I’m back on track now, and my sleep is way better again.”
“I’m glad to hear that.” Katherine’s heart hurt. Whatever happened had traumatized this young woman. She was more determined than ever to find out if there was a tie between Sarah and Justin. “And I’m so sorry about Tucker.”
“Thanks.” Sarah spoke to someone in the background before she returned to Katherine. “I wasn’t sure if I was still in the study since I’m not at school anymore. Does Professor Kraft want me to keep filling out my journal?”
“Professor Kraft?” Katherine had to be honest. This girl had bared her soul even if she’d done it unintentionally. Katherine wanted her to know she was trying to help. “Sarah, I need to be completely up front with you. I am not working with Professor Shaver on this particular study. I do work with him in a different department, but I contacted you because there was a different incident near school recently.”
“You’re not part of the biofeedback study?”
“I am not.”
“How did you get my name? They said it was confidential.”
“I’m looking into an incident that happened with Justin McCabe a couple of weeks ago, and someone mentioned what happened with you—”
“Something happened to Justin? Is he okay?” Sarah’s voice was alarmed. “I’m friends with one of his fraternity brothers. Justin’s the whole reason I was involved
