FORT ST. JOHN, B.C. - For years, Vienna Luke lived with fragments of memory, unanswered questions and a story she did not fully trust herself to tell.
The uncertainty lingered long after a June 2007 night that would eventually lead to the conviction of former Fort St. John veterinarian Justin Sewell.
But for Vienna, the most difficult part was not only what happened that night.
It was living for years without knowing exactly what had happened.
Now, through the CBC podcast Personally: Agent Layla, Vienna is publicly sharing her story.
But the story she wants people to hear is not primarily about a criminal conviction, an undercover operation or a podcast series.
It is about what happens when someone loses confidence in their own understanding of an experience and spends years finding their way back.
Drug-facilitated sexual assault took more than Luke’s ability to consent that night.
It also left her without a complete memory of what happened. The years that followed were marked by uncertainty, self-doubt and questions that could not easily be answered.
According to Vienna and her sister, Shawnessy Luke, one of the most important parts of that journey was learning that support and certainty are not the same thing.
Someone else can believe you. They can stand beside you, listen to you and support you. But they cannot give you confidence in your own experience.
That had to come from within.
Shawnessy could ask questions and support her sister, but she could not find the truth for her.
Vienna had to arrive at that understanding herself. Over time, hearing other survivors’ stories, continuing to ask questions and pursuing answers helped her trust what she knew and eventually find her own voice.
“It’s very, very good that the truth and the story are out there and that it’s not his narrative going around anymore,” Vienna said. “I’m very proud of how far I’ve come. I’m proud of what I managed to do and the people that helped me along the way.”
Drug-facilitated sexual assault
One of the central themes of Vienna’s story is the reality of drug-facilitated sexual assault and why survivors can spend years trying to understand what happened to them.
Luke was 20 years old in June 2007 when she was living with her sister and Sewell in the Charlie Lake area.
According to the B.C. Court of Appeal, Sewell offered to provide a safe environment for her to get drunk for the first time, putting himself in a position of trust with her.
That night, Sewell added ketamine and/or Valium to Luke’s drink. Luke remembers having roughly the equivalent of one alcoholic drink before passing out.
Her first clear memory is of her knees buckling while she was dancing with Sewell in the living room. After she passed out, Sewell took her downstairs to her bedroom.
Unlike many crimes, some of the most critical moments of that night were not available to her through memory.
Aside from fragmented memories, including briefly waking and seeing Sewell removing her underwear, much of what occurred after she lost consciousness was information she would only later learn through evidence, court proceedings and Sewell’s own admissions.
For years, that uncertainty shaped how she viewed the experience.
Shawnessy says that challenge is one reason drug-facilitated sexual assault can be particularly difficult for survivors to recognize.
“I think this kind of a crime is more prevalent than we even realize because I think it’s so difficult. A lot of victims don’t even realize they’ve been drugged,” she said.
Vienna hopes that by sharing her story she will help people better understand both the prevalence of drug-facilitated sexual assault and the unique barriers survivors face when trying to make sense of what happened.
For Shawnessy, there is also a broader concern that society often underestimates the seriousness of these offences.
“The reality is I never want that to become normalized,” she said. “She could have died that night. We could have lost her that night.”
Beginning to ask questions
Several months after the assault, a family vacation led to a conversation that would become one step in a much longer journey.
While saying goodbye after a Christmas cruise, Shawnessy noticed an interaction between Sewell and Vienna that struck her as unusual. When the family returned home, she asked her sister about it.
It did not suddenly reveal the truth, nor was it the moment Vienna finally understood what had happened.
Instead, it created space for a conversation.
Shawnessy’s role, they say, was never to uncover the truth for Vienna. Her role was to ask questions, listen and remain beside her sister as she worked through years of uncertainty.
While Shawnessy believed her sister, Vienna still had to learn to trust herself.
That process unfolded gradually over many years.
The story, they say, is not about one sister rescuing another. It is about what can happen when someone remains beside a survivor long enough for that survivor to find her own footing.
Over time, Luke moved from questioning herself to trusting herself.
The answers did not arrive all at once. They came piece by piece through conversations, investigation, reflection and a growing willingness to believe her own experience.
Becoming Agent Layla
That search eventually led to an extraordinary undercover police operation.
In 2021, Luke agreed to become an undercover agent in her own case.
The operation culminated in a recorded meeting with Sewell at a restaurant and lounge in the airport hotel at Vancouver International Airport, where investigators hoped to gather evidence directly from him.
The recording would become a key part of the case.
She had to sit across from the man who drugged and sexually assaulted her, keep him talking and carefully guide the conversation toward what happened years earlier. The emotional challenge was immense.
Sewell asked whether he was being recorded. She said no and continued the conversation.
She kept asking questions and she kept searching for the truth.
But for Vienna, the operation represented more than an investigative tactic.
For years she had been living with uncertainty while other people possessed information, she did not.
Becoming Agent Layla allowed her to move from searching for answers to actively pursuing them.
Rather than waiting for truth to emerge, she became part of uncovering it.
In many ways, the operation marked another step in reclaiming ownership of a story that had once left her questioning herself.
Taking back the narrative
Vienna says the story is also about who gets to control the narrative.
For years, many people in Fort St. John knew Sewell as a veterinarian, a Christian and a respected member of the community. Vienna says that reputation sometimes made it difficult for people to reconcile the public image with the crimes he was ultimately convicted of committing.
Shawnessy says Sewell continues to create explanations that minimize or redirect responsibility.
“This is someone who continues to create his own narrative around what happened and why it happened,” she said. “He really likes to shift the focus.”
For Vienna, publicly telling her story is also about reclaiming ownership of it.
The story no longer exists only in court documents, police files or someone else’s version of events.
It exists in her own words.
“The ability to tell your story and for others to know the truth and that it not be his narrative going around anymore, that feels very, very good,” Vienna said.
The journey has also always carried a deeply personal purpose.
Luke said one of her motivations for pursuing the truth was her oldest sister, known in the podcast as Sunny.
“I wanted my sister to know the truth,” Vienna said. “I didn’t think that she knew everything.”
Both sisters describe the podcast as, in many ways, a love letter to their oldest sister and an effort to ensure she had access to the same truth Vienna spent years uncovering.
Accountability and parole
Today, both sisters remain focused on what comes next.
Sewell is currently serving his sentence while on day parole.
As registered victims, Vienna and Shawnessy receive notifications when travel requests are approved.
Shawnessy says they have become increasingly concerned by the frequency and length of trips allowing Sewell to return to Fort St. John.
Their concern is not that he is violating parole conditions. The trips are being approved.
Rather, they are questioning why those freedoms are being authorized while he remains on day parole.
“The big question is why?” Shawnessy said. “How is someone actually being rehabilitated when they are able to travel home four times a month for four days at a time?”
The sisters are also calling for a full hearing when Sewell’s parole status is reconsidered.
“We’ve demanded, we’ve asked for an actual hearing, not just a paper review, and to ask Justin for the receipts,” Shawnessy said.
The phrase, she says, reflects their desire to see evidence of meaningful rehabilitation and accountability.
Justice and freedom
Sewell was granted day parole in April after the Parole Board of Canada denied full parole, citing concerns about his insight into his offences and his ability to manage long-term risk.
The board ordered that he reside in a supervised community residential facility while participating in treatment programs.
For Vienna, however, justice is no longer measured solely through the courts.
“The fact that he was sentenced is meaningful. Having the law say this person needs to be held accountable definitely means something,” said Vienna.
For years, Luke lived with uncertainty, self-doubt and questions she could not answer. The process of pursuing the truth helped her rebuild trust in herself and reclaim ownership of her own story.
That, she says, has become its own form of freedom.
But she says freedom takes many forms.
For Vienna, justice today looks different than she once imagined.
But justice has never been measured solely by a sentence.
“The best revenge is living well,” Luke said. “I’m very proud of how far I’ve come.”
As Agent Layla reaches audiences across Canada and around the world, the sisters hope listeners come away with a better understanding of sexual violence, the importance of believing survivors and the power of the truth.
While Sewell continues moving toward greater freedom through the parole system, Luke says she has found a different kind of freedom altogether.
Not freedom measured by parole hearings or prison walls, but by reclaiming her voice, telling her story on her own terms and ensuring that the truth, rather than someone else’s version of events, is what endures.
For Vienna, that may be the truest form of justice and freedom of all.