The Chief of Police smiled broadly as she walked across the stage towards him. She stopped crisply on the discreet X before him and saluted, holding perfectly still as he pinned the badge to the front of her uniform. Her smile faltered a moment at his closeness, but in an instant it was over as he stepped back. She dropped her salute and his sweaty palm met hers as he shook her hand. Then she walked across the stage to join the rest of her class, the newest members of NYPD 82nd precinct.

The rest of the graduation passed in a blur as her friends introduced their family to her  and drinks and light refreshments were consumed. She would never remember all of their names and her cheeks hurt from smiling so much. She loved New York, the rough bronx accents and the crush of people. It was such a far cry from her sad upbringing in rural Texas. Finally after twenty two years of loneliness, perhaps she had found the place she belonged, where she could make a difference.

Waving a farewell to her friends as she slipped into her Uber, she relaxed into the leather seats and smiled. The driver met her eyes as he drove the eighteen blocks to her one bedroom studio. "Congratulations" he said gruffy, "my nephew was NYPD died on 9/11. Make sure you do him proud."

"I'm sorry. I remember watching the towers fall when I was in middle school. Seeing all those rushing in to help. I always wanted to be one of the helpers." She replied, realizing with a start that they had arrived. She smiled gratefully at him as he gave her a nod. Then made her way into the apartment lobby.

The elevator smelled, and the hallways were cramped, but the tiny studio was home. She unlocked the door and flicked on the light already shrugging out of her dress uniform jacket. She froze and her hand immediately went to her gun when she noticed the man and woman sitting on her couch staring back at her.

"Miss Callahan, I'm Agent Stiles with NYPD undercover, forgive the intrusion, but we would like to have a word with you."