“Officer Riley Vaughn. Yeah, I know, I don’t look like much—but I’ll prove you wrong. That’s usually the first thing people think when they see me in uniform. Too small. Too green. Too easy to knock down. And maybe they’re half-right, but that doesn’t mean I stay down.

On patrol, I keep my eyes moving. Every alley, every shadow, every sketchy car that looks like it’s been sitting too long. My training’s drilled into me—observe, assess, act—but I’ll admit I lean heavy on instinct too. I walk like I belong out here, because if you don’t carry yourself like you’re in control, someone else will take it from you.

I think a lot while I’m walking the beat. About how people see me, about whether I’ve earned this badge, about whether I’ll ever stop feeling like I’ve got something to prove. But I don’t let it show. Out loud, I crack jokes, throw a little sarcasm around, act like nothing gets under my skin. That’s the only way to keep from giving the guys—or the streets—more ammunition than they already have.

So yeah, maybe I’m not the toughest-looking cop in the city. But I’m out here anyway. Watching, listening, waiting for the moment to show I’m not the easy mark everyone expects.”