And Maddox had seen it.
That mattered more than Jade wanted to examine too closely. Not because she needed Maddox’s approval necessarily, but because earning respect through actions instead of words was the only path forward with someone like Maddox Shaw.
Therapy sessions could only accomplish so much when the client was determined to maintain defenses. Real trust, the kind that allowed vulnerability, required seeing someone’s integrity in action and required proof that principles weren’t just lip service but something solid enough to stand on, even when it cost something.
And today had cost. Jade’s hands were still trembling as she loaded the table into her car. She’d have to sit with this feelingfor a while, let the adrenaline burn off, and process the exposure that came with taking a public stand. But given a choice, she’d do it again without hesitation because if Jade could create the smallest space where asking for help felt safer than suffering in silence, then every uncomfortable confrontation was worth it.
She drove home through streets brightened by the afternoon sun, the park receding in her rearview mirror. Her apartment would be quiet, but her plants were thriving and the coffee maker was still its permanent spot, evidence of a life in Phoenix Ridge that might actually take root.
And somewhere across town, Jade imagined Maddox talking to Zeus about the day, her voice softening in that way it only did with him, her walls still firmly in place with everyone else.
But maybe, just maybe, those walls had a few more cracks than they’d had this morning.
Jade could work with cracks. She was patient and learned in the Army that healing happened in increments too small to measure day by day but was undeniable over time. She had watched Maddox experience these small moments and quiet shifts, the kind of progress that didn't announce itself but accumulated nonetheless.
Jade pulled into her apartment complex, gathered her materials, and headed inside. The work continued, as it always did, and the foundation was being laid brick by careful brick.
And the most important part: she still had time to reach someone who everyone thought was unreachable.
5
The conference room door was already open when Maddox arrived, voices drifting into the hallway. She paused just outside, adjusting her utility belt and buying her three seconds to prepare.
It’d only been two hours since therapy, sitting across from Jade in that converted office answering questions she didn’t want to answer and feeling things she didn’t want to feel.
And now this.
She took a steadying breath, then stepped inside. Captain Julia Scott sat at the head of the table reviewing notes, and four other officers were scattered around: Thorne, Martinez, Sutton, and someone from admin whose name Maddox could never remember. And there, on the far side near the windows, sat Jade.
Of course she was here.
Maddox inhaled sharply again and took the seat furthest from her, calling it strategic positioning, like approaching a scene. Assess the room, control the angles, keep your back covered.
Jade glanced up and offered a small nod, like they hadn’t just spent an hour dissecting Maddox’s week in excruciating detail. Maddox returned the gesture and focused on Julia.
“Alright, let’s get started.” Julia closed her folder, scanning the table. “Thanks for making time. I know everyone’s juggling shifts, but this work matters.”
It was Julia’s usual opening. Maddox had been to three of these meetings now, just enough to know the rhythm but not yet feel comfortable. But despite the buzzwords that made Maddox want to roll her eyes, Julia ran a good meeting. No wasted time, no performative concern, just practical problem-solving with people who actually rolled up their sleeves to get the work done.
“Quick updates first,” Julia continued. “Peer support training is scheduled for next month. We’ve got eight officers signed up, which is solid.” She glanced at Jade. “The post-incident protocol revisions, how’s that coming?”
Jade leaned forward, her hands folded on the table. “Almost done. I’m incorporating feedback from the last session and should have a draft for you by Friday.”
“Good.” Julia scribbled a note. “Thorne, family support resources?”
Riley nodded. “The printed materials are in. I’ll distribute them at the next shift briefing.”
The meeting moved efficiently through agenda items. Maddox half-listened, tracking the conversation enough to stay oriented but not enough to engage. She’d learned this particular skill in the military, being there but not really there.
Jade contributed throughout, her input devoid of the therapy-speak and soft language Maddox associated with counselors. Hers were practical suggestions grounded in research and framed in a way the officers understood. Maddox noticed despite herself, despite wanting to.
“Last item,” Julia said, flipping a page. “Community outreach. We’ve had multiple requests from elementary schools for K-9 demonstrations. It’s good PR, good for the kids, and honestly, good for us. But I want to add something to the standard format.”
Maddox’s attention sharpened. K-9 demos wereherterritory.
Julia continued, “I’m proposing we pair an officer with wellness staff for a more holistic approach so it’s not just ‘here’s how police dogs work,’ but ‘here’s how we keep everyone safe, including ourselves.’” She looked directly at Maddox. “Safety and emotional intelligence together that’s age-appropriate and integrated naturally.”
Maddox’s shoulders instinctively tensed. She could see exactly where this was going, and she didn’t like it one bit.
