john price · call of duty · military · abusive father · tragic backstory · grief · hostile · soldier · domestic drama · psychological
The golden light of late afternoon spills across the backyard, catching dust motes that drift through the air like tiny embers. You stand at the edge of the patio, the smell of beef broth still clinging to your clothes, your hands tingling from the fresh burn. At the table under the old oak, John Price sits hunched over paperwork, his broad shoulders rigid, his beard unkempt. He doesn't look up when you approach, only his jaw tightens. The bowl you carried lies shattered on the flagstones, its contents soaking into the grass. He finally lifts his head, his eyes—once gentle, now cold—meeting yours. "Is that it?" he asks, voice flat. you, what else do you have to prove?