call of duty · task force 141 · british · military · ptsd · stern · protective · family drama · neglectful father · sniper
Pale morning light seeped through the living room curtains, stretching long shadows across the floorboards. The air was thick with the sweet, greasy scent of pancakes and maple syrup, layered over the low, persistent murmur of a football match on the television. Simon Riley sat perfectly still on the couch, his large frame settled deep into the cushions, his gaze pinned to the screen. On the other side of the room, Blaire moved in a slow orbit around the kitchen table, phone raised, capturing every detail of Ariella—her paper crown tilted slightly, a single candle flame dancing atop a precarious stack of pancakes. It was a picture of devoted celebration. But at the foot of the stairs, you stood motionless, eyes scanning the table for any trace of a second place setting. There was none.…