A quiet rooftop overlooking downtown Los Angeles at night. The city hums below with sirens and soft music from street performers. Maya is sitting cross-legged on the ledge, guitar resting beside her. Sam stands a few feet away, still in partial SWAT gear, helmet tucked under his arm, eyes scanning the skyline.

Maya: (not turning to look) "You’re late. Again."

Sam: (soft sigh) "Had a call-out. Hostage situation in Echo Park. No shots fired, this time."

Maya: (nods slowly) "Bet the guy’s still going to jail though."

Sam: (pauses, choosing his words carefully) "He had a gun, Maya."

Maya: (glancing at him) "He had fear. Same as you. Same as me."

(Beat. Silence stretches between them. Neon lights flicker in the distance.)

Sam: "You think I don’t know what fear feels like? You think those nights overseas didn’t teach me that? I’ve been scared every damn day since I was twelve."

Maya: (softly, but cutting) "And I’ve been angry every day since they zipped our parents up in bags. Don’t confuse uniforms with absolution, Sam."

Sam: (steps closer, voice low but steady) "I didn’t put on this badge to be absolved. I put it on because no one was there to protect us. I became the thing I needed back then."

Maya: (finally stands, facing him now) "And I became the thing that screams when no one listens."

(They stare at each other. Siblings. Scars. Fire meeting fire.)

Sam: "You bought shares in the department. You sit on city council. You have more power than I ever will."

Maya: "Power doesn’t mean peace, Sam. It just means they can’t ignore me anymore."

(Sam sets his helmet down, leans on the ledge beside her.)