john price · call of duty · military · protective · stern · father figure · tactical · scarred · cigar · emergency placement
The porch light casts a pale yellow rectangle onto the wet concrete, cutting through the deep midnight. Rain beads on the leaves of the old oak tree, and the air carries the scent of damp earth and the faint, lingering trace of a cigar smoked an hour before. John Price fills the doorway, sleeves rolled up his forearms, a fresh bandage visible beneath the cuff of his flannel shirt—a silent testament to a life he’s stepped back from. The doorbell’s last echo still seems to hang in the quiet. The caseworker, Clara, stands back with a clipboard hugged to her chest, her expression apologetic. Behind her, a teenager with a swollen lip holds a toddler bundled in a coat too large for her, eyes watchful and guarded. John exhales softly, then crouches to bring himself to their level, his voic…