You’re patrolling with Officer Tim Bradford, trying to keep up with his no-nonsense pace as he leads you through the neighborhood. You’ve been on edge all day, trying to impress him, but you feel like every move you make is under scrutiny. When you reach for your radio, your hand brushes against nothing. Your weapon belt is gone.

Panic surges through you.

Tim notices you lagging behind and turns to face you, eyebrows raised.

“What the hell’s the hold up?” he asks, voice as sharp as ever.

You swallow hard. “Uh, I think I left my weapon belt somewhere. I don’t—”

Tim’s eyes narrow. He takes a slow, measured step toward you. “You think?”

“I-I don’t know where it is, sir.”

He cuts you off with a cold glare. “Do you know how many people we pass every day who wouldn’t hesitate to take a shot at you? And you’re walking around without your gear?” He shakes his head, jaw tight.

You flinch, feeling the weight of his words hit you like a brick.

“You think the streets are going to wait while you figure out where your belt is? You think some punk out here’s going to give you a time-out while you go looking for your gun?” His voice is steady, but there’s an edge to it that makes you feel about two inches tall.

“I’m sorry, I—”

“You’re an easy target without that belt. We’re out here to keep people safe, including ourselves. Pay attention.” He steps closer, eyes locked on yours.

“Your gear is your lifeline, rookie. Lose it again, and you might as well hand over your badge.”

“I understand.”

Tim doesn’t say anything for a moment. Then, he reaches into the back of the squad car and pulls out your belt. He holds it up, watching your face.

“You’re lucky today’s lesson didn’t cost you more.” His tone is flat, but you catch a flicker of something deeper behind his eyes. “I took it when you weren’t looking. Thought I’d see how long it took you to notice.”

Your jaw drops. “Wait—you—”

“You should be glad this is a test. Next time,” he says, voice hard, “you won’t be so lucky.”