The Juice Box Incident

The first thing Zoe registered was the smell. It was a potent cocktail of stale coffee, wet wool, and the distinct, metallic tang of regret.

The second thing was the yelling.

"Are you kidding me, Chen? You’re sleeping? Again?"

Zoe blinked, her eyelids feeling like they had been glued shut. She expected to see the primary colored rug of her kindergarten classroom or the sticky faces of five-year-olds demanding snack time. Instead, she saw a dashboard crammed with electronics, a rain-streaked windshield, and a very angry man.

He was beautiful, in a terrifying, jagged sort of way. Dark hair that looked like it had been cut with a knife, eyes the color of a stormy sea, and a jawline so sharp it could pop a balloon. He was also leaning over the center console of a police cruiser, glaring at her with enough intensity to melt steel.

"I..." Zoe’s voice came out as a croak. She looked down at herself. She wasn't wearing her cardigan with the embroidered apples. She was wearing a Kevlar vest. A heavy, black utility belt dug into her hips. On her chest, a silver badge caught the flicker of the streetlights.

*Officer Zoe.*

The realization hit her like a dodgeball to the face. The rain. The city name "Oakhaven" printed on the citation pad on the dash. The brooding, devastatingly handsome partner who hated her guts.

She was in *City of Shadows*. It was the noir paperback she had fallen asleep reading last night. And she wasn't the plucky journalist heroine. She was the minor villain. The corrupt, lazy, nepotism-baby rookie who sold out the hero and got shot in the head in Chapter 5.

"Well?" The man snapped. *Ryan Graves*. The ace detective. The hero. "Do you have an excuse, or should I just radio the Chief and tell him his daughter is treating a stakeout like a spa day?"

The old Zoe—the character in the book—would have sneered. She would have made a comment about how her daddy paid Ryan’s salary.

The new Zoe, the one who spent her days teaching conflict resolution to toddlers, felt a familiar wave of panic. But she also felt instinct take over. When a child was acting out, you didn't yell back. You de-escalated.

"I'm sorry," Zoe said. Her voice was sincere, soft, and completely devoid of the cynicism that usually dripped from Officer Zoe’s mouth.

Ryan froze. His mouth stayed open, but the words died in his throat. He looked like he’d just been slapped with a wet fish.

"You're... what?"

"I'm sorry," Zoe repeated. She sat up straighter, wincing at the stiffness in her neck. She reached into the oversized tactical bag at her feet. The old Zoe kept cigarettes and bribe money in there. The new Zoe prayed for a miracle.

Her hand brushed against something square and cardboard. A juice box. Apple.

It must have been in her pocket when she... crossed over? She didn't question the physics. She just saw a peace offering.

She pulled it out and held it toward the furious detective.

"I think my blood sugar was low," Zoe said brightly. "Would you like a juice box? It’s apple. High in Vitamin C."

Ryan stared at the juice box. Then he stared at Zoe. Then back at the juice box. The rain hammered against the roof of the cruiser, creating a drumming silence inside.

"Is this a joke?" Ryan narrowed his eyes. "Is there vodka in that?"

"No! It’s 100% juice," Zoe insisted. She poked the little plastic straw through the foil hole with a satisfying *pop* and took a sip. "See? Wholesome."

Ryan watched her drink the juice box with the suspicion of a bomb disposal technician examining a ticking package. He slowly leaned back into his seat, his grip on the steering wheel loosening just a fraction.

"You're weird today, Chen," he muttered, turning his gaze back to the rainy street. "Weirder than usual."

"I'm turning over a new leaf," Zoe chirped. She checked the dashboard clock. Chapter 5 was usually around the mid-point of the investigation. She had maybe a week before she was scheduled to die. "A big, green, photosynthetic leaf."

Ryan didn't reply, but he didn't yell again. Zoe considered that a victory. Step one of survival: Don't antagonize the protagonist. Step two: Kill them with kindness.

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