Diana sighed. “It’s department policy. All officers involved in incidents with weapons present receive mandatory debriefing. You know this, Shaw. It’s not new.”
It wasn’t new, but it also wasn’t usually enforced this strictly, not for calls that ended successfully. Unless someone had flagged her file, unless Diana thought she was becoming a liability.
The leather chair creaked slightly as Maddox shifted her weight. Her breathing felt constricted in her chest and her throat tightened almost imperceptibly, but she told herself it was irritation, not anxiety. There was a difference.
“How many sessions?” she asked, the words coming out flatter than she intended.
“Six to start,” Jade said, speaking for the first time since their handshake. Her voice was warm but direct, no softness to cushion the answer. “One hour per week. We’ll reassess after that and see if additional support would be beneficial.”
Maddox’s eyes cut to her. Jade met the look with steady calm, no judgment visible in her expression. Somehow that was worse than if she’d looked sympathetic or concerned. At least then Maddox would know where she stood.
“Tuesday afternoons work well for you, according to your schedule,” Jade continued. “Two o’clock. My office is in the converted conference room on the first floor, so you won’t have to go far.”
Of course they’d already checked her schedule and planned this out without asking if she wanted it. Maddox felt the walls rising higher inside her chest, solid and familiar.
“And if I refuse?” she asked, directing the question to Diana.
Diana’s expression didn’t waver. “Then I’ll make it a direct order, and we’ll document your refusal in your personnel file. I’d prefer not to do that.”
The subtext was clear: this was happening whether Maddox liked it or not. She could cooperate and make it easier on everyone, or she could fight it and accomplish nothing except making herself look difficult.
“Everything discussed in our sessions is confidential,” Jade added, and there was something almost gentle in the way she said it. “Unless there’s a safety concern—either for you or others—what we talk about stays between us. This isn’t an evaluation. We’re just processing high-stress incidents and preventing burnout.”
Maddox didn’t respond. Her mind was already calculating: six sessions, one hour each. Six hours of sitting in a room with a stranger who thought she could fix things that weren’t broken. Six hours of checking boxes so the department could say they addressed officer wellness.
She could survive six hours. She’d survived much worse.
“When’s the first session?” she asked Diana.
“Tuesday,” Diana said. “Two p.m. like Jade mentioned. Don’t be late.”
Maddox nodded once sharply. “Understood, Chief. Is that all?”
Diana’s expression softened slightly around the edges, just enough to suggest she knew exactly how much Maddox was hating this. “That’s all for now. You’re dismissed.”
Maddox stood, her movements controlled and precise, and she didn’t look at Jade as she turned toward the door.
“Officer Shaw?”
She stopped with her hand on the doorknob, not turning around.
“I know this wasn’t your choice,” Jade said, her voice carrying across the space between them. “And I know you probably think it’s a waste of time. But I’ve been where you are.I know what it’s like to carry the weight of impossible calls and pretend it doesn’t affect you.”
Maddox’s shoulders tensed. She didn’t want to hear about Jade’s experience, and she definitely didn’t want the comparison or implication that they had anything in common beyond both having served.
“I was Army,” Jade continued, and there was something almost conversational in her tone now, like she was just sharing the information without making a point. “Combat medic, three tours in Afghanistan and Iraq. I know what it’s like to make split-second decisions that haunt you later and what it’s like to pretend you’re fine when you’re running on fumes. You can’t run on adrenaline and stubbornness forever.”
The words settled into the silence of the office. Rain drummed against the windows behind Diana’s desk, a steady rhythm that filled the space where Maddox might have responded. But she didn’t. She didn’t even acknowledge the statement or implicit offer of understanding, just pulled the door open and stepped through it, letting it close quietly behind her.
The hallway felt too bright after the muted light of Diana’s office. Maddox stood there for a moment, her hand still on the doorknob and her jaw aching from how much she’d been clenching it.
Six sessions. She just had to keep her walls up and get through them.
Maddox walked back through the building without seeing any of it. Her boots moved on autopilot down the stairs, through the first-floor corridor, and past the officers whose faces registered but didn’t quite stick. She pushed through the side exit and stepped out into the rain.
It fell harder now, steady and cold, soaking through her still-damp uniform within seconds. She didn’t rush or try to shield herself from it.Let it soak through, she thought. Thecold sharpened everything that had gone soft at the edges and brought her back into her body instead of spinning in her head.
Mandatory therapy, weekly sessions, talking about feelings with a stranger who’d already decided Maddox was running on fumes and couldn’t sustain the work without help.
