The Coldest Winter.

18.

     I watched Mr. Wilson pace back and forth as he didn't know what to do. Just like I had thought the witch was going to find me.
"I'm not letting him go back there. I don't give a fuck what I have to do, I'll go down to the courts and adopt him myself if I have to!" He yelled, causing Devonté to grasp my hand a little. It seemed to him he had never seen his father in the passionate rage he was in. I, on the other hand, have seen rage, and there was nothing passionate about it.
Pausing from his pace, he picked up the phone that was vibrating on the wooden table beside me.
He let out a long sigh before speaking into the receiver.
"Talk to me."
I saw his pace continue as the multiple "Uh Huh's" filled the room.
Mr. Wilson looked at me for a moment, and continued on with the conversation he was having, while pacing again.
Where they talking about me?
I looked at my Bestfriend's face and he looked just as confused as I did.
"How long are we talking about?"
I looked at him trying to make out what the person on the other end was saying.
"He's been through hell, I'm not letting him go with just anybody."
Go with? Is somebody coming to get me?
He looked at me again, this time with a small smirk on his face that disappeared before he went back into the kitchen.
I looked at Devonté and nudged him when I saw he wasn't paying attention.
"D, what's goin on?"
"I'm not sure, from what it sounds like they might have possibly found a relative here for you."
My heart jumped a beat.
My daddy's coming to get me?