Maddox nodded once, processing. “Torres was over by the patrol vehicles making comments earlier.”
Jade kept her expression neutral. “What kind of comments?”
“The kind she always makes.” Maddox’s tone went flat. “Dismissive about the wellness committee, therapy, all of it. She thinks it’s a waste of budget.”
“I see.”
Maddox studied her for a moment, as if trying to gauge Jade’s reaction. “It doesn’t bother you?”
“It bothers me,” Jade admitted. “But I’m not here to convince people like Torres. I’m here for the officers who want help and are willing to ask for it.”
Something shifted in Maddox’s expression; it wasn’t quite approval, but close.
“Right,” Maddox said. Then, after another beat of silence, she said, “I should check on Zeus and make sure he’s settled.”
“Of course.”
Maddox turned to leave then paused, glancing back. “The group sessions. When are those starting?”
“A few months out, tentatively. I’m still working through the logistics with Chief Marten and Captain Scott.”
Maddox nodded and walked back toward the parking lot without another word. Jade watched her go, noting the way Maddox’s posture shifted the moment she reached the K-9 vehicle and opened the door to check on Zeus. Safe space, safe connection.
A shadow fell across Jade’s table, and she turned to find Riley standing there, Sarge sitting perfectly at her heel, a knowing look on Riley’s face. “She actually stopped to talk to you,” Riley said, her voice pitched low enough to not carry. “That’s new.”
“Just a brief conversation. Nothing significant,” Jade replied neutrally.
“For Maddox, stopping at all is significant.” Riley’s expression held something between amusement and approval. “She usually avoids chitchat like it’s a biohazard.”
“She complimented Zeus, and I complimented her work. It was a professional exchange.”
“Right.” Riley’s tone suggested she didn’t entirely buy it. “Did she mention Torres?”
“Briefly. She said Torres was making dismissive comments.”
Riley’s smirk turned into a slight frown. “Yeah, Torres has been running her mouth all morning about the wellness committee being a waste of time. Half the department’s getting tired of hearing it.”
Jade filed that away. It was useful information about department dynamics, about who supported the work and whodidn’t. “It’s not uncommon. Change takes time, especially in law enforcement culture.”
“True.” Riley glanced toward where Maddox was still checking on Zeus, then back to Jade. “But for what it’s worth, Maddox showing up to talk to you, even for two minutes, means something. She doesn’t do casual. If she stopped, she was making a choice.”
“Noted,” Jade said carefully.
Riley’s expression softened slightly. “Just…keep doing what you’re doing. Some of these officers need what you’re offering, even if they won’t admit it. Especially if they won’t admit it.”
“That’s the plan.”
Riley nodded once, then moved off with Sarge, leaving Jade alone at her booth again. The park was thinning out now, families packing up and officers wrapping up their demonstrations. The energy was winding down, and everyone looked satisfied and tired.
Jade looked back toward the K-9 vehicles and saw Maddox leaning against her door, Zeus visible through the window resting. Even from a distance, Jade could see the way Maddox’s entire posture had softened.
She can connect,Jade thought.She just won’t let herself.
That was the wound. Not the inability, but the refusal and subsequent isolation. And today, for just a few minutes, Maddox had chosen differently. She’d stopped at Jade’s booth, engaged in conversation, and asked questions. They were small steps, barely visible, but they were there.
Progress didn’t always look like breakthroughs. Sometimes it looked like a two-minute conversation and a question, and sometimes that was enough.
Jade was folding her table when she heard voices carry across from the nearby patrol vehicles.
