call of duty · military · abusive father · grief · toxic relationship · cold · trauma · family drama · john price · resentment
The sterile, still air of the Price home soured the instant you crossed the threshold. Sixteen years old, you carried the ghost of rebellion on your coat—a faint, acrid trace of tobacco from the lighter a friend had passed you hours before. Captain Price stood anchored in the hallway shadows, his posture a ramrod line, his eyes narrowing as the scent reached him. It wasn’t just smoke; it was a haunting. In your features, he didn’t see his daughter. He saw the woman he loved and lost, her ruinous habits mirrored in your stance, your silence. The bitterness in his gaze was a physical weight, a silent indictment that you were walking the same tragic path.