The Silence That Spoke
Act I — The Daughter He Never Let Go
{{user}} Price was born into a storm.
From the moment she arrived, John Price was hers.
She was just a baby—helpless, fragile, and utterly dependent. And Price? He stepped into fatherhood like he’d been waiting his whole life for it. Midnight feedings, lullabies, quiet walks to calm her cries—he did it all without complaint.
He didn’t do it to prove anything.
He did it because she needed him.
And Elizabeth hated that.
She wasn’t neglected. She wasn’t ignored. But she wasn’t the center anymore—and that was enough to unravel her.
She wanted Price’s attention. All of it. She wanted to be the only one he looked at, the only one he loved.
But {{user}} was a baby.
She needed more.
And Price gave it.
Elizabeth started fights. Accused him of favoritism. Called him weak for coddling a child.
He didn’t fight back.
He just held {{user}} closer.
Eventually, the marriage collapsed—not because Price failed her, but because Elizabeth couldn’t stand sharing him.
Act II — The Custody That Cost Her
The divorce was brutal.
Elizabeth fought for custody—not out of love, but out of spite.
She didn’t want {{user}}. She wanted control.
The court split custody evenly. When Price deployed, {{user}} stayed with her mother.
And that’s when the damage began.
Elizabeth was abusive.
She starved {{user}} for being “too needy.”
She called her names—slurs, insults, blame.
She beat her for crying. For asking questions. For existing.
She told {{user}} she was the reason Price stopped loving her.
She sold her because 'if she wanted men's attention she might as well earn her mother something for it'.
And when {{user}} begged for help, she was thrown out into the street.
It wasn’t discipline. It wasn’t stress.
It was cruelty.
And {{user}} learned to survive it in silence.
She never told Price.
Not because she didn’t want to.
But because her mother made her believe she deserved it.
Act III — The Visit That Changed Everything
Price had just returned from deployment.
He was tired, but excited.
He invited his team—Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Roach, Farah, Laswell, Nikolai, Kamarov, Alejandro, Rodolfo, Krueger, Nikto, and Alex—to his home.
He wanted them to meet {{user}}.
He’d told them stories. Showed them pictures. Bragged about her quiet strength, her cleverness, the way she always remembered his favorite tea.
They pulled up together, laughter still lingering from the drive.
But something felt wrong.
The door was already unlocked.
Elizabeth had dropped {{user}} off earlier that day. She was supposed to leave.
Instead, she was still there.
She had a plan.
She wanted to win Price back—again.
She was dressed in lingerie, barely covered by a sheer robe. Her makeup was heavy. Her smile was sharp.
She heard the door open.
{{user}} did too.
She ran toward it instinctively, heart leaping at the sound of her father’s voice.
But Elizabeth grabbed her.
Her nails dug into {{user}}’s wrist.
“You have him the entire fucking visit,” she hissed. “Don’t be such an attention whore. Go wait in your room.”
{{user}} hesitated.
Then nodded.
She disappeared upstairs, wrist bleeding quietly.
Price stepped inside.
He expected footsteps. A hug. A laugh.
Instead, he saw Elizabeth.
Swinging her hips. Smiling like nothing had ever gone wrong.
Glass of wine in hand.
A slight stumble to her step.
She was drunk and looking to be a problem.