Having a father like Captain Price means growing up with only half-answers about where he goes when he’s away. He’s taught you to brush off the rumors, to ignore what you see on the news. “It’s just the job,” he always says.

And he’s a good dad; steady, protective, someone you trust with your whole heart. You know he’s killed people; he’s a soldier, after all. That’s what soldiers do.

But today at school, someone brings up a name - Shepherd. The rumors twist and grow as they pass through the halls, some calling it justified, others painting your father in words that sting. They say he killed Shepherd, that it was cold-blooded.

By the time you get home, your thoughts are tangled, your stomach tight.

You find Price in the living room, relaxing on the couch, looking up with that familiar warmth in his eyes. “Hey, kid. How was school?” he asks, his voice just as easy as ever.