Alice: Can’t wait to celebrate with you later.??
The heart emoji makes my chest warm. She’s really mine. This is real. We’ve been officially together for three weeks now, keeping things discreet around town but growing closer every day. Having her support means more than I can put into words.
Don’t screw this up. The exam or the relationship.
I grab my study materials and head to the car. The drive to Creeksprings takes thirty minutes, giving me time to review key concepts one more time. Leadership principles, budget management, personnel policies. Thirteen years of experience distilled into a four-hour exam.
You know this stuff. You’ve lived it.
The testing center is a sterile government building with fluorescent lights and beige walls. I check in with the proctor, show my ID, and get assigned to a computer station in a room with twelve other officers from various departments.
I recognize a few faces—cops from neighboring towns, some county deputies. We nod at each other but don’t talk. Everyone’s focused, nervous energy filling the room like static electricity.
“You’ll have four hours to complete the exam,” the proctor announces. “No talking, no phones, no materials. Good luck.”
The screen loads, and I take a deep breath. My palms are sweating.Here we go.
Question one: A subordinate officer has been arriving late to shifts consistently. As a sergeant, what is your first course of action?
I know this one. Document the pattern, have a private conversation with the officer to understand any underlying issues, set clear expectations moving forward. Talk to them like a person first, not just a problem to solve. I click through the multiple choice options and move on.
The questions cover everything I’ve studied. Budget scenarios, disciplinary procedures, emergency response protocols. Some are straightforward, others require me to think through complex situations with multiple right answers. The kind where there’s no perfect choice, just the least bad one.
Two hours in, I’m feeling confident. The studying paid off, and my experience gives me context for the theoretical scenarios. I think about Chief Martinez, about the leadership style I want to model if I get this promotion. Lead by example. Listen before acting. Protect your people.
Hour three brings the essay questions. “Describe how you would handle a situation where a veteran officer under your supervision disagrees with a department policy change.”
I think about my own resistance to certain changes over the years, about what kind of leadership would have helped me adapt better. Someone who explained the why, not just the what. Someone who respected my experience while pushing me to grow.
The final hour is case studies. Complex scenarios that require balancing multiple priorities—officer safety, community relations, department policy, budget constraints. I draw on everything I’ve learned, both from books and from real experience on the streets of Pine Hollows.
When time is called, I feel drained but good. I gave it everything I had. That’s all I can do.
Outside the testing center, I check my phone. A text from Chris asking how it went, one from my mother wishing me luck, and another from Alice.
Alice: How did it go?? I’ve been thinking about you all morning.
Me: Good, I think. Definitely did the best that I could.
Alice: I’m proud of you no matter what. Want to meet up later?
Me: Yes around 6?
Alice: Perfect. I’ll make dinner.
The drive home feels different than the drive there. Lighter. Whether I passed or not, I did everything I could. And for the first time in years, I have someone to share this moment with. Someone who cares whether I succeed or fail.
Don’t compare her to Lila. She’s not Lila.But the thought creeps in anyway. Lila never cared much about my career goals. Always thought being a cop was beneath me, that I should have gone into something “more respectable.” Alice asks questions, remembers details, actually listens when I talk about work.
Different. Better.
I stop by the station to check in with Chief Martinez.
“How’d it go?” he asks, looking up from his paperwork.
“I think it went okay. When will we know the results?”
“Two to three weeks. But Sawyer, regardless of the outcome, I want you to know how proud I am of how you’ve handled everything lately. The investigation, the pressure, staying professional through all of it.”
