Page 14 of Borrowed Pain
"I don't know yet," I admitted. "Someone's benefiting from this pattern. Someone with resources, connections, and a reason to keep trauma victims from fully recovering."
Miles followed my gaze to the wall, scanning the photos and documentation. His eyes lingered on Dr. Celeste Harrow's professional headshot.
"You know her," I said carefully.
"Dr. Harrow." Miles's voice was cautious and measured. "She's... well, she's brilliant. Keynote speaker at every major trauma conference, published in all the top journals. Her research on memory processing is groundbreaking. I teach her paper in CE seminars."
"But?" I prompted.
Miles moved closer to Harrow's photo, studying it with the same intensity he'd given Iris's timeline. "Her work is impressive. Revolutionary, even. She's developed techniques that supposedly accelerate trauma recovery by months, sometimes years."
"Supposedly? You're hedging, Miles."
"The results she reports are almost too good to be true. Recovery rates that exceed anything we see in traditional therapy." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Her methodology is proprietary. She doesn't share specifics about her techniques, but she claims it's to protect patients from unqualified practitioners."
The familiar Bureau prickle came back. "Convenient."
"I've always assumed it was legitimate professional discretion. She's respected by everyone in the field, consulted by government agencies, and invited to advise on treatment protocols." Miles faced me. "You're not seriously suggesting she's involved in this."
The doubt in his voice was clear, but so was the underlying uncertainty. He didn't want to believe someone of Harrow'sstature could be part of what we were uncovering, but he couldn't quite dismiss the possibility either.
"I'm not suggesting anything definitive, but her name keeps appearing in my research. Facilities claiming to use her techniques, programs referencing her published work, and treatment centers with access to her proprietary methods."
Miles spoke in a neutral voice. "Even if that's true, it doesn't mean she's directly involved. Her work is referenced, cited, and sometimes misrepresented by people trying to legitimize questionable programs."
"You're right," I agreed. "But all the threads are worth investigating."
"How do we find out?" Miles asked.
"Carefully," I said. "And together. You understand the therapeutic side of this in ways I never could. I have investigative resources and contacts you can't access alone."
Miles nodded slowly. "What's the first step?"
I pulled out a clean sheet of paper, fountain pen ready. "We map everything. Every client contact, every facility reference, and every connection to established trauma research. We build a web until it's clear who's at the center of it."
"And if it leads back to someone like Harrow?"
I captured his gaze. "Then we follow the evidence wherever it takes us. No matter how uncomfortable the destination."
Miles returned his attention to the evidence wall.
"This is..." He trailed off, shaking his head. "I see why these dots tempt you to draw lines, but I need something I can't explain away."
The skepticism in his voice caught me off guard. "What do you mean?"
"Trauma survivors are already vulnerable. Relapse rates are high, suicide rates are higher than average, and yes, somepeople seek alternative treatments when traditional therapy isn't working fast enough. Correlation isn't causation."
"You think I haven't considered that?"
"I think you've been alone with this for three years, and pattern recognition can become pattern creation when you're too close to the data." His voice was gentle but firm. "I see it with clients who've experienced trauma. They start seeing threats everywhere, connections that confirm their worst fears."
The comparison stung. "You think I'm paranoid."
"I think you're grieving. And grief can make us see conspiracies when it's only tragedy." Miles moved along the wall, studying individual photos. "These people—they were already fragile. Maybe the programs they entered were legitimate but poorly executed. Maybe they were scams, but isolated ones. That doesn't mean there's some coordinated effort to—"
"To what?" I interrupted. "To systematically destroy trauma recovery?"
"To do what you're suggesting, yes." Miles faced me. "Do you understand what you're implying? You're suggesting respected researchers, licensed facilities, and ethical review boards are all either complicit or incompetent."
