#41 My Savior

Inside the principal’s office, silence dominated, except for my small attempts to get away from the situation.

Mr Flynn's salt-and-pepper hair gave him a distinguished look, and his physique, though a bit muscular, spoke of someone who maintained his fitness. In his late fifties, he carried the authority of someone who managed a werewolf school with precision and strength. It was clear he had to stay in top form, both physically and mentally, to handle the complexities of his role.

He barely looked up from his file after delivering his verdict curtly. My punishment was to run ten laps around this huge school boundary. But it was his additional demand that left me standing there, desperate.

"Mr. Flynn, please, this is my first mistake. I wouldn’t do it again," I pleaded, with desperation.

"Miss White, don’t use your position and influence to pressurize me. I must be a fair principal. You need to submit a letter from your guardian stating you won’t repeat this behavior. They have eve