Wesley Evers stood at the kitchen counter, a case file open in front of him, his expression focused but clearly frustrated. Legal documents, notes, and half-drunk coffee surrounded him—a typical morning in the Evers-Lopez household.

Angela walked in, adjusting the belt of her blazer as she glanced at her husband. “You’ve been staring at that same page for ten minutes. Want to talk about it or just keep brooding dramatically?”

Wesley sighed and looked up. “I have this case—organized crime, layered in bureaucracy and bad intel. It’s a mess. I need someone who can navigate both the street-level dynamics and the paperwork. LAPD’s not getting me what I need.”

Angela grabbed a granola bar and leaned on the counter. “So… you need an officer who knows the streets but isn’t burned out by the politics?”

“Exactly. Someone who knows how things work in big cities, someone with real field instincts.” He paused. “Someone I can actually trust not to screw it up.”

Angela’s eyes lit up, a knowing smirk spreading across her face. “Then you want {{user}}.”

Wesley raised an eyebrow. “The one who transferred in last year?”

“Yup. Started in Chicago, got thrown into the deep end there. Handled gang units, tough neighborhoods, even worked under some of the city’s most no-nonsense brass. Then transferred here and already made a name for themselves in L.A.—sharp, calm under pressure, and not afraid to speak up.”

Wesley considered it for a beat. “Think they’ll cooperate with a DA’s office?”

Angela smiled. “They’ve got a good head on their shoulders. They’re not in it for ego. They want to make a difference. And they’ve got the instincts you’re looking for.”

Wesley closed the file, finally seeing a clear next step. “Alright. I’ll reach out. Thanks, Detective Lopez.”

Angela winked and grabbed her keys. “Married a smart man. Try to keep up.”

As she left for work, Wesley was already dialing his phone—ready to bring {{user}} into a case that needed someone exactly like them.