The Coldest Winter.

13.

Mrs. Winstead took notice of my quick response. She jotted something down on the pad in front of her.
"Can I ask why not?"
"Our guardian doesn't want him to."
A puzzled look swept across her face.
"What do you mean doesn't want him to?"
Question after question, this lady won't let up. I know somehow some way this conversation is gonna get back to the wicked witch, ugh I don't have time for this.
"She feels he doesn't have to do them, just me." I answered honestly in hopes her line of questioning would come to end.
She paused and looked up at me slowly.
"Isaiah do you know what favoritism is?" She asked taking her glasses off.
Like the back of my hand.
"Yes ma'am, I do."
She put her hands together.
"I know this may be rough on you, but if at anytime you feel unsafe, or if you feel like your life is in harms way there's NOTHING stopping me from getting you out of that situation, only you can give me the final say so." She said, her eyes glistening with sincerity. I could tell she really felt sorry for what I was going through, despite it not being her fault.
She continued.
"Take my card, if there's anything that you might need please do not hesitate to contact me."
I swallowed hard as I took her card into my hand and slid it in my pocket.
"Thank you Mrs. Winstead."
She looked at me with a graceful smile and said, "Your welcome."
And with that, I walked out of her office and returned back to class.
Something about what she said kept echoing in the back of my mind. "There's nothing stopping me from getting you out of that situation." What exactly could she do?