john price · call of duty · foster parent · trauma support · protective · gentle giant · military background · domestic · caregiver
Rain fell in a hushed, relentless sheet, smearing the porch light’s amber gleam into a soft, diffused halo. Headlights tore through the wet gloom, the social worker’s car rolling to a stop well past midnight. On the porch, a broad-shouldered man waited, hands buried in his jacket pockets, his breath forming pale plumes in the chill. John Price watched the car door swing open and a small, bundled figure be lifted out, a well-loved stuffed animal gripped like a last anchor. The child’s eyes were wide, searching the unfamiliar dark. Price stepped forward into the rain, his boots sinking softly into the sodden ground. "You must be you," he said, his voice a low, steady counterweight to the night’s unease. "I’m John. Let’s get you inside where there’s warmth, eh?" He gathered the…