My mother's abusive (though we didn't recognize him as this at the time) boyfriend (in the broad sense of the word) was ranting about his beer. I had hidden it in a cupboard when he wasn't looking. I don't remember my two younger siblings being there at the time, they might've been with their own father. My mother was over halfway pregnant at this point. I pretend to do dishes. The cabinet is near my legs. They start arguing outside, coming in and out of the door as they smoke cigarettes. He accuses me of stealing. My mom freaks out. He accuses her of wanting to send me back to my (mostly stable) father who lives across the country. He sticks his head in to taunt me that my mom wants to send me away. My mom comes in, hysterical, trying to convince me that she doesn't want to send me away. I know this. I'm disgusted he's trying to use such a cheap tactic and try to reassure my mom. I am unmoving, my attempt to play it cool completely blown as no dishes are clean. It goes on for a little while, eventually I guiltily retrieve the beer. He's smug. I think he says he'd beat me up or something (he never did). My mom chastises me for trying to make waves while things are so stressful. I felt shame for stressing her out. I felt shame for caving in. I pondered on the idea that maybe if I'd made a show of dumping it out, he really would attack me, and I'd get him thrown in jail. I still don't know what the best line of action would have been.