“My dad can’t go back to Mexico. He can’t abandon the life he’s built over the past twenty years, or leave his family behind. We need him here. My mom, my sister, me—we all need him here. And it’s not just us. It’s also our community, our neighborhood. I mean… the women who work at the bodega—who else is gonna give them a job that allows them to switch their hours around so they can study for nursing school or take their kid to the doctor? Who else is gonna be there to give people discounts when he knows they’re struggling with money? Or to help a teenager who needs someone to believe in him?” I look at Uncle Jorge and notice the way he’s stopped blinking. “There are so many people who can’t imagine life without him. He’s part of this city, of this country. We’re here talking about how my dad’s deportation would affect Sophie and me… but at the end of the day, it’s about so much more than just us. We all lose.”

Mr. Gordon frowns. For a second, it looks like he’s about to say something. I put a hand on my stomach, preparing for his retaliation, but then he clears his throat.

“No further questions, Your Honor.”

Mr. Gordon goes back to his desk, and the judge straightens her glasses. “We are running out of time,” she says. “We will reconvene tomorrow at ten AM. Court is adjourned.”

She bangs her gavel against her desk, and I turn to look at Mr. Wilkins.

What does this mean? I try to ask him using only my eyes, and he gives me a small shrug in response. I know exactly what it means—that this is not yet over. That we won’t find out what’s going to happen to Pa today. That our nightmare has just been extended for one more day.

The second question I ask with my eyes is a little more difficult to communicate, but somehow, Mr. Wilkins seems to understand it. Did I screw up? Did I ruin Pa’s chances of staying in the country by going off like that?

He gives me a small nod, which tells me that I did a good job—that I accomplished what I came here to do. And when his lips twist into the faintest of smiles, I feel a wave of relief spreading through my body, because at least I did everything I could to help Pa come back home.

16

WHEN WE TALK TO MA ON THE phone that night, she’s freaking out.

“I thought it would be over by now,” she says. “I thought we would at least know what’s gonna happen to your pa.”

“Me too, Ma,” I say. “We all did.”