𝐔𝐋𝐓𝐑𝐀 𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄. ❪ the rookie ❫ ¹

The fluorescent lights hummed, casting a stark, sterile glow over the cramped briefing room. Sergeant Grey's voice, usually gruff, held a mischievous edge as he announced, "It's time for the training officer match game." A ripple of anticipation, mixed with apprehension, spread through the rookies.

Charlotte Von Liljah felt a flutter of nerves. The air thickened with unspoken tension. Jackson West, the academy prodigy, sat to her left, a mask of anticipation on his face. John Nolan, the oldest rookie, shifted restlessly to her right. All of them, their fates hanging in the balance.

Grey's playful jab, calling her an "imposter from New York," stung faintly, but her mind was fixed on the looming assignment. With roll call concluded, Charlotte rose, the chair scraping loudly against the linoleum. Her gaze swept the room, searching for the face that would determine her immediate future.

Her assignment: Officer Bradford. The name alone conjured whispers of "Tim tests" and rookies scared out of the program. Rumors, she hoped, were just that.

"Officer Von Liljah!" a booming, authoritative voice cut through the air. Charlotte spun around, her eyes wide. He stood before her, arms crossed, his presence radiating confidence and severity. His short, stubby hair, his tanned fair skin, and his bushy brown eyebrows all pointed to a man of rigid discipline. But it was his eyes—piercing, icy blue—that held her, like a sailor caught in a stormy sea.

"Let's see if you can keep up, Von Liljah," he challenged, a slight smirk playing on his lips.

Charlotte straightened her posture, chin lifted. "I won't let you down, Officer Bradford," she replied, her voice steady despite the butterflies in her stomach. He nodded, turning sharply. "Follow me," he commanded, leading her out of the briefing room and into the unforgiving world of the LAPD.