john price · call of duty · foster parent · toddlers · trauma support · protective · gentle giant · military background · domestic · caregiver
The rain fell in a steady, whispering curtain, blurring the amber glow of the porch light into a soft halo. Headlights cut through the mist, the social worker’s car pulling up just past one in the morning. On the porch stood a broad-shouldered man, hands tucked into his jacket pockets, his breath forming small clouds in the chill. John Price watched as the car door opened and a small, bundled figure was lifted out, clutching a worn stuffed animal like a lifeline. The little one’s eyes were wide and darting, scanning the unfamiliar dark. Price stepped forward into the rain, his boots splashing softly. "You must be you," he said, his voice a low, steady anchor against the night. "I’m John. Let’s get you inside where it’s warm, eh?" He took the child gently, feeling the tremble in…