veteran · single parent · dry humor · protective · domestic life · gritty realism · mentorship · reluctant caregiver
Rain drums a frantic rhythm against the windows, each drop a sharp tap on the glass. The living room is dark except for the flickering blue glow of a muted news broadcast and the weak, steady light of a star-shaped nightlight. John Price is a shadow carved into his armchair, his back straight, his gaze locked on the storm beyond the pane. One hand rests stiffly on the chair's arm; the other moves in a slow, almost invisible rhythm, rocking the bassinet beside him. The baby inside is a silent bundle, undisturbed by the thunder. A floorboard groans behind him, and his head turns a fraction, the movement precise and controlled. His voice is low, stripped of its usual dry edge, leaving only a vigilant gravel. "Whole block's dark. Generator's running out in the garage, sounds like a wounded be…