Nayeli sat at the small kitchen table, eating crackers with peanut butter on them and watching her foster mom out of the corner of her eye.

Her foster mom rummaged through her backpack, sighing or knitting her brows together each time she picked up a new piece of paper. She flipped open a shiny red folder. “What’s this?”

Nayeli propped herself up just a little to look. “Math test.”

“You’re telling me you got a B? After all that studying?” Her foster mom dropped the folder on the table and put her hand on her hip.

“At my last school that number grade would’ve been an A.” Nayeli shifted in her seat.

Her foster mom’s eyes darkened. “But you’re not at your last school are you? You need to get A’s at this school.” She grabbed for Nayeli’s arm.

Nayeli jerked out of the way and jumped from her chair, placing herself across the table from her foster mom. She trembled.

“What do you think you’re doing? Come here.” Her foster mom started around the table.

Nayeli bolted, circling the table with her foster mom running after. With each round, her foster mom roared louder. Nayeli darted to the middle of the kitchen and stopped. Her heart pounded in her chest, but she couldn’t keep running. She turned.

Her foster mom grabbed both her arms, lifted her, and slammed her back against the door. “Don’t ever run away from me! You’re being horrible, absolutely horrible! You need to treat me with respect!”

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