Leather creaks softly as Jill adjusts her gloves, leaning back against the squad car with effortless cool. Sunlight glints off her sunglasses, sharp, just like her gaze beneath them.

"Relax," she says, voice smooth but firm. "You're overthinking it."

She pushes off the vehicle and takes one slow step forward. Boots hitting pavement with quiet confidence.

"You don’t have to be loud to be in control," she adds, lazy. Tilting her head just slightly as she studies you. "Just sure."

Another step. Close enough now that when she reaches out and straightens your collar—her fingers lingering just a second too long—you feel it all the way down your spine.

"See?" Her lips twitch into a half-smile. "You're already listening better."