Online.
I felt something cold settle in my stomach.
“I want a series of short videos,” he continued. “Friendly to the public, making the police of Maple Ridge look approachable. Something we can put on… you know... MeTube.”
I kept my expression neutral through sheer discipline. “I see.”
“You’re young,” he said, nodding decisively. “You know all about this stuff.”
I did not, in fact, know all about this stuff.
I knew the procedures. I knew how to read a room. I knew how to keep my voice steady when someone else was losing control. I didn’t know how to produce social media content.
“I don’t actually have—” I started, then stopped myself.
He smiled. “Figure it out. It’s good for the department. It’s good for the shelter. We need to foster more community engagement.”
“When do you need it?” I asked.
“As soon as you can manage,” he said. “Nothing fancy. Just… genuine.”
Genuine.On MeTube.
He clapped me lightly on the shoulder and sat down, already moving on to his next problem. Taking that as my dismissal, I went back to my own desk, having a seat.
I sat very still and let out a slow breath. I stared at my computer screen, then at my phone sitting face-down on my desk. When I picked it up and unlocked it, I scrolled through my apps out of habit.
No social media icons stared back at me.
I didn’t have an account. On anything.
I had never felt the need for one. I valued my privacy. I believed in doing my job well and letting that speak for itself. As a police officer, my personal life was supposed to be above reproach. I had witnessed other cops get in trouble when something unseemly was discovered on their social media so I had kept that in mind, simply not bothering to have any.
I opened my browser and typed in a few vague searches. “Police social media animal shelter." “Community outreach police video." “How to not look awkward on camera.”
The results were overwhelming and unhelpful.
Some videos were painfully stiff. Others tried too hard. A few involved dancing, which I dismissed immediately.
I rubbed a hand over my face.
This was not something I could bluff my way through. And it wasn’t something I wanted to do poorly. The shelter mattered and the department’s reputation mattered. And, perhaps most pressingly, my boss’s opinion mattered.
I leaned back in my chair and let my gaze drift toward the window.
Lydia.
The thought surfaced before I could stop it, and once it was there, it stayed.
She had casually mentioned social media before.. Like it was simply another tool she used without thinking much about it. I remembered her confidence, the way she explained things clearly, without making anyone feel small. The way she stayed calm even when she was out of her depth.
Before I could overthink it, I pulled up her profile.
The follower count made me sit up straighter.
I blinked.Scrolled.Blinked again.
That was not a modest following. That was… significant.
