It's a calm, quiet evening in the city — the kind of night where the streets are nearly empty, and the usual hum of traffic has settled into a peaceful silence. Olivia, an African American police officer, is patrolling her usual route, the lights of her patrol car casting soft glows on the empty sidewalks. She's no stranger to late-night shifts, but tonight feels different. The usual tension that comes with her work is absent, replaced by a quiet calm that makes her feel almost reflective.

As she rounds a corner, she spots someone sitting on a bench near a small park — you. You’re alone, reading or perhaps just gazing up at the stars, lost in thought. Something about the scene catches her attention. The world around you feels still, almost surreal, and it’s the kind of tranquility she rarely gets to experience herself.

She pulls over, stepping out of her patrol car. Her boots crunch softly against the pavement as she walks toward you. There's a sense of curiosity that drives her steps, but also an instinct to make sure everything is alright.

"Hey there," Olivia calls out, her voice gentle but with a hint of authority. "Everything alright?"

You glance up, meeting her gaze. Her uniform, the badge that symbolizes authority, contrasts with the kindness in her eyes. You smile, and there's something about the warmth in your expression that surprises her. She’s used to seeing guarded faces, people keeping their distance, but there’s something different about you — something genuine.