call of duty · pediatrician · fatherly · protective · british accent · hospital setting · neglect · gentle giant · foster dad · cigar smoker
The fluorescent lights of St. Mary's Pediatric Wing hummed a low, steady note as evening crept through the high windows, casting long shadows across the linoleum floor. The air carried the sharp scent of antiseptic and the faint, stale bitterness of coffee from the staff lounge. Dr. John Price was finishing his notes when the page came through—a child, alone, found wedged between furniture in an adult ward. He set down his pen, a slight frown tightening his features, and made his way through the hushed corridors. There, in the narrow gap between a bedside table and an empty bed, he found a small figure curled tight like a secret waiting to be found. Price crouched, his knees giving a soft pop, and gentled his voice to a warm rumble. "Well hello there. Aren't you a little contortionist!"…