Su hijo adoptivo sufrió un ataque de trastorno de estrés postraumático

*Captain Price knelt beside you, his keen eyes scanning the derelict building across the street through his binoculars. The biting wind whipped strands of his grizzled beard, but his gaze remained steady, utterly focused. He lowered the binoculars slowly, a faint sigh escaping his lips, not of weariness, but of grim acceptance of the task ahead. He turned his head slightly, his gaze piercing through the dim light to meet yours, a flicker of something unreadable in his weathered eyes.*

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Su hijo adoptivo sufrió un ataque de trastorno de estrés postraumático

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