The Miami sun was already set in the sky, bathing the streets of Little Havana in its golden glow. As a young girl, I always woke up to the vibrant sounds of our neighborhood coming alive. the clatter or pots and pans as people prepared breakfast with their windows opened. The cheerful greetings exchanged between neighbors, and the rhythmic pulse of salsa music that always came from the kitchen. Our home was a small, baby blue house on a quiet street, but it was full of life and love.

  "Come help me mi amor!" My mother, Heidi Grant, called from the kitchen, her voice always had been a comforting blend of warmth and authority. She was the nicest woman but I'd recommend not getting her angry.

  "Coming Mama!" I replied as I hopped out of bed and quickly changed into my clothes for the day. I was always a bundle of energy, always eager to help and learn from her.

  Heidi was a petite woman with a formidable spirit. Her dark, wavy hair was usually tied back in a loose bun, and her green eyes sparkled with both kindness and a steely determination. She was a nurse at the local hospital, a job that demanded long hours and unwavering dedication, but she always made time for me.

  As I entered the kitchen, the delicious aroma of freshly brewed Cuban coffee and frying eggs filled the air. My mother was at the stove, expertly flipping Arepas with a spatula. I watched her in awe, admiring her skill and grace.

  "Here, Izzy," she said, handing me a plate. "Set the table, por favor."

  "Okay, Mamá," I responded, as I took the plate and carefully arranged it on our small kitchen table. The table was covered with a bright, floral tablecloth, a stark contrast to the worn wood beneath. Our home might have been modest, but it was rich with warmth and color.

  As we sat down to eat, my mother looked at me with a mix of pride and concern. "How was school yesterday?" she asked, her voice gentle.

  "It was good, the librarian Mr. Ramirez gave me a new book to read, it's about a police officer who solves murders."

  My mother smiled as she took a a sip of her coffee and a bit of a piece of Arepa on her plate and looked over at me with love in her eyes.

  "You always have loved a good mystery darling, just like your grandfather, I'm telling you, your granddaddy would take his books and go out on the porch of our house and read read read, grandma had to always pull him in when dinner was ready cause he was always so involved in the story!"

  I nodded enthusiastically, I remembered the stories my grandfather used to tell me about his days as a police officer in Havana. His tales of bravery and justice had always fascinated me, which also planted the seeds of my future aspirations.

  "Mamá, do you think I could be a detective one day?" I asked, my eyes widen with hope.

  My mother's expression softened, and she reached across the table to take my hand. "Izzy, you can be anything you want to be."

  Her expression turned a little worrisome but she didn't allow me to see that side of her.

  "Just remember dear, that line of work can be incredibly dangerous." She said, getting me some more orange juice.

  Her words filled me with a sense of purpose. From that moment on, I was determined to follow in my grandfather's footsteps and become a force for good in our community.

  Years passed, and I remained steadfast in my goal. After high school, I enrolled in the police academy, driven by a desire to make a difference. The training was grueling, pushing me to my physical and mental limits, but I thrived under the pressure. I was fueled by my mother's unwavering belief in me and the memory of my grandfather's stories.

  "When I call your name, you will come up, grab your badge and report to the line where you will be serving..." The man at the podium said, his voice incredibly stern.

  "Eugene Griffin. 242 Division."

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  "Isabel Grant. 5th Division." As soon as I walked over to the podium, donned in my pressed shirt and pants, I grabbed my badge and put it on, my family in the crowd, their voices the only thing heard but I tried to stay presentable and serious.

  I walked into the precinct, my new uniform crisp and my badge gleaming. The air was thick with the scent of coffee and the low hum of conversation.

  I made my way to the briefing room, where a group of rookies like me were gathered. Captain Howard, then a young and ambitious officer, stood at the front of the room. His presence commanded attention, his sharp eyes scanning the room with an intensity that made me stand a little taller.

  "Alright, listen up," Howard began, his voice cutting through the murmur of chatter. "Today is partner day. You'll be paired with experienced officers who will show you the ropes. Learn from them, but don't be afraid to step up. Understood?"

  My heart began to beat faster and faster, I knew if I had any chance with these experienced guys, I had to do my job and do it better than they thought I could. The anticipation was palpable, Howard began to call out names on who would be paired with who.

  "Grant. You're with Hernandez." He said looking at me and then pointing towards the back of the room.

  I made my way over to Mike Hernandez, who looked me up and down with a skeptical eye. His demeanor was tough, his face lined with years of experience. He ran his hands through his freshly trimmed gray beard, "Great," he muttered under his breath. "A rookie... Even better... A woman."

  "Nice to meet you," I said, extending my hand, glaring at him based on those comments.

  He ignored the gesture and began to walk off. "No it's not."

  We both walked out of the room, heading for the door to the precinct. Mike decided to drive, I hopped in the passenger seat.

  "It seems as if you aren't a fan of mine even though we've just been introduced." I said to him as soon as we pulled out.

  He laughed, "It's not that I'm not a fan of yours, I'm the one that Howard keeps sticking the rookies with."

  I smirked at him. "Ohhhh, so you don't think women can be police officers?"

  "I believe you don't want to. I don't believe you're in this job for the long run. I've been doing this job for 28 years. I passed down my knowledge to 5 female rookies. All who fell in love, got married and left the force to have kids. So I got, hmm, what do you call it? Abandonment issues."

  I laughed at his comments. "I'm serious about this job, so I am m ore than happy to take any wisdom you want to send my way, but you should treat me the way you would treat any other officer."

  He smirked at my fierce comeback.

  A call came over the radio related to a robbery at a Kiwk Mart on Sutherland Ave, Mike and I looked at each other with excited looks and drove down there quickly.

  As we pulled up to the scene, the flashing lights of our patrol car illuminated the scene before us. Two figures dashed out of the store, their faces obscured by masks and their arms laden with stolen goods. They stumbled over each other in their haste, their movements frantic and uncoordinated.

  "Stop right there!" Mike bellowed, his voice echoing through the stillness of the night.

  But the robbers paid no attention to us, their only concern to escape the long arm of the law. They sprinted down the street, their footsteps pounding against the pavement. I decided to take it on foot while Mike drove down a side street to try and stop them.

  "Stop right there! Miami PD!" I yelled, my voice laced with authority.

  As they continued to run they both smashed into the police car driven by Mike, falling to the ground. The two of us laughed, Mike exiting the car to cuff the other suspect.

  "What were you thinking? Robbing a gas station in broad daylight? You must have studied at the school of unconventional thinking," He said.

  I rolled my eyes at his dry joke, I began to search the suspects. I found money hidden in every single pocket of the jacket these two were wearing.

  "You idiots..." I said as I rolled my eyes at them.

  We put the two robbers in the back of our patrol car, I walked back to the gas station. Money in a bag.

  I entered to a little bell, shelves were overturned, and a cashier was hidden behind the counter, I rang the little bell, the man popping right up.

  "Miami Police Department sir. My name is Officer Grant, we captured the two that robbed your store, here's the money they took."

  The man yelled in happiness, coming around the counter and giving me a gigantic hug, making me almost fall backwards.

  "Gracias! Gracias!" He said in Spanish

  I nodded, "Uhhhh, Que tenga un buena dia." I responded, waving back to him as I exited the gas station and got in the car. Mike seated there with his jaw dropped.

  "What?" I asked

  "You know Spanish?" He asked with a hint of shock in his voice while also present on his face.

  "My mother is Spanish, I've picked up some things.

  He nods and drives off.

  As we returned to the precinct to process the criminals, Mike turned to me with a grin.

  "Not bad, Grant," he said, his voice tinged with admiration. "You've got some serious skills."

  I shook his hand, "I appreciate that, even though, with all due respect, I told you!" I said walking away, he rolled his eyes.

  At the end of my shift. I returned home, exhausted but exhilarated. My mother waited for me as always, with a warm meal and a listening ear. I recounted the events of the day, her eyes shining with pride.

  "Lo hiciste bien mi amor?"

  I nodded to her. "Si, si, si, It takes a lot to learn but I am learning it little by little." I said as I gave her a hug.

  "Bueno. Bueno." She said as she responded to the hug.

  Right then and there I knew... I was committed.