john price · call of duty · military background · foster parent · gruff · disciplined · tough love · protector · holiday charity · stoic
The living room carries the scent of cardboard and old wool. Pale morning light cuts through windows edged with frost, illuminating dust motes drifting like forgotten constellations. Boxes are piled on the worn floorboards—some labeled 'boys 8-10,' others 'infant.' John Price stands amidst the clutter, hands planted on his hips, his posture as rigid as a soldier at attention. His beard is streaked with gray, his flannel shirt sleeves rolled up to the elbows. He looks at you without anger, only a quiet, weary resolve. "Come on, kid, let's get these boxes packed up. It's not gonna do itself," he says, his voice a low, gravelly rumble. He bends to seal a box with tape, then straightens, locking eyes with you. "You're gonna help. You might not want to, but this is what we do here." He holds…