She pulled into her usual spot in the far corner of the Phoenix Ridge Police Department lot and cut the engine, and the sudden silence felt too loud.
Maddox sat in the driver’s seat longer than she should’ve. The engine ticked as it cooled down, and rain started up, light drops on the windshield that blurred the gray brick building ahead into something softer around the edges. Behind her, Zeus whined softly.
She should get out and do the paperwork, write up the incident while the details were still fresh in her mind. Instead, she just sat there and let the rain fall.
Her hands wanted to shake, but she curled them into fists against her thighs, her jaw tight and aching. Just adrenaline, that’s all this was, a normal response to high-stress calls. Everyone felt this afterward.
Except…most people’s hearts didn’t hammer like this for twenty minutes after the fact. Most people didn’t see different scenes overlaid on top of the present moment.
The flash had lasted maybe two seconds, if that. Not even a full memory, just heat and the wrong building and Zeus moving ahead while her breath caught in her throat and she hesitated for a fraction too long?—
“Stop it,” she commanded herself.
Zeus whined again, more insistent this time. Maddox climbed out and opened his compartment. He pressed against her leg immediately, steady and grounding. She checked him over, looking for any sign of injury or stress, but there was nothing. No injuries, no strain markers, just Zeus being Zeus. Professional and excellent at his job, unlike his handler, who couldn’t keep her pulse steady after what should’ve been a routine call.
She grabbed an unopened water bottle and twisted off the cap, then filled his water bowl. While he drank, she ran herfingers through his thick coat. Her hands felt steadier when they had something to do. He leaned into her touch, grounding her without judgment.
“Good work today,” she told him, and the words came easier with just Zeus to hear them. “Clean takedown. You’re getting faster every time.”
His brown eyes watched her face with that unsettling awareness he’d always had. He’d been with her for almost five years now, since he was barely six months old. He knew her rhythms and tells, and he could sense the difference between her being actually calm and the white-knuckled control she called calm.
She looked back at the precinct building and tried to pull in a deep breath, but it caught somewhere in her chest and wouldn’t go as deep as she needed it to.
“Come on,” she said to Zeus, her voice rougher than she meant it to be. “Let’s get you settled.”
The K-9 building was attached to the main station like an afterthought. It was small and efficient, all kennels and training spaces that smelled perpetually of dogs and industrial cleaning supplies. A few other K-9 officers were working in the space, but they offered nothing more than nods as she passed. Everyone on the team knew by now that Maddox preferred her space after the tough calls.
She went through Zeus’s post-incident protocol with the kind of focus that didn’t allow for stray thoughts. Everything by the book, the way it was supposed to be done. She checked his paws, mouth, and coat for any sign of strain before she measured his food portion and gave him fresh water in his kennel so he could decompress in his kennel with one of his favorite toys.
After she closed Zeus’s kennel door behind him, she massaged her jaw. It ached from how hard she’d been unknowingly clenching it. The exhaustion pulled at her fromsomewhere deep, the kind of bone-tiredness that came from running on fumes too long. Weeks, maybe months. However long it’d been since sleep felt like actual rest instead of just another battlefield to survive.
She looked back at Zeus, finding him already watching her. “I’m fine,” she said, like saying it out loud would make it true. His tail thumped once against the concrete floor. Not an agreement, she didn’t think, but just an acknowledgement.
Her radio crackled to life on her shoulder. “Shaw, Chief Marten wants to see you when you’re clear.”
She pressed the button with more force than necessary. “Copy. On my way.”
It was probably just the standard debrief after a scene with a firearm, she reasoned. She’d give her report, Diana would sign off on the paperwork, and everyone could move on with their day.
Routine, nothing to worry about.
So why did her chest feel impossibly tight as she crossed the parking lot toward the main building?
The rain fell heavier now, soaking through her uniform shirt and plastering it to her shoulders. She didn’t rush or try to avoid it. The cold helped somehow, sharpening everything that had gone soft and unfocused at the edges of her awareness.
Phoenix Ridge PD rose up before her, all solid brick and professional efficiency, the kind of department that ran on competence and careful procedure. She’d been here six years and had built a solid reputation in that time: reliable, skilled, the kind of officer you wanted handling your toughest calls.
No one needed to know anything except that she showed up on time, did the work that needed doing, and kept her shit together when it mattered.
Inside, the building wrapped around her with its familiar sounds and smells. Phones rang from the bullpen to her left, andsomewhere down the hall a copy machine hummed and clicked through its rhythm. The air carried the aroma of burned coffee and floor cleaner, layered over decades of institutional existence. Fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, too bright and constant.
A few officers moved through the corridors, and they offered her nods as they passed. Martinez from traffic, Cavallo from dispatch, Valdez heading out for patrol. Maddox returned the greetings with minimal words and kept moving. She didn’t love small talk on good days, and today didn’t qualify as good.
Her boots squeaked against the linoleum as she made for the stairs, each step marking a rhythm she’d walked hundreds of times before. The second floor was quieter than the first, insulated from the noise of the main operations below. Up here, the administrative offices lined the hallway like sentries, and Chief Diana Marten’s corner office sat at the end with windows that overlooked the harbor and the gray water stretching out toward the horizon.
The rain had picked up outside. She could hear it pattering against the windows as she climbed, a steady drumbeat that matched something restless in her chest.
Captain Julia Scott stepped out from one of the conference rooms just as Maddox reached the top of the stairs. She was tall and sharp-featured, with dark hair pulled back in the same efficient style she’d worn for as long as Maddox had known her. They were friendly in the way colleagues could be—professional respect and occasional conversation, nothing that went particularly deep. Julia ran a tight ship in her division, and Maddox appreciated competence when she saw it.
