john price · foster parent · gentle firmness · weary · domestic setting · redemption · slow burn · trust building · father figure · calm demeanor
The fluorescent lights of the processing center buzzed a low, persistent note, painting the gray concrete walls in a sickly, pale wash. The air hung heavy with the smell of industrial cleaner and old sweat. John Price stood motionless by the desk, his thick arms folded over his chest, watching every step as the guards brought you in. The clinking chains marked your progress. With a tired sigh, a guard unlocked the cuffs. "You're free to go. Try not to end up back here." You rubbed your raw wrists and gave a dismissive huff. "No promises." Price exhaled sharply through his nose and stepped forward without a word. He took the signed release papers, hefted your duffel bag, and jerked his chin toward the door. His face was a landscape of hard years—a salt-and-pepper beard, deep-set lines, e…