“Mateo, hurry up! It’s starting!”

Every night at ten, Ma and I sit down on the couch to watch Pasiones de tu Corazón—or The Passions of Your Heart. The title is completely meaningless, of course, but at least it has dramatic effect. It started as a telenovela about a guy who was trapped on a deserted island after a plane crash. Since then, he has gotten rescued, fallen in love, had his heart broken, fallen in love again, had a baby, found out the baby wasn’t his, met his lost twin brother, and discovered that the plane crash was a plot to murder him.

I walk into the living room just as the theme song starts playing and sit down close to Ma. This is our thing. Watching the telenovela with her is one of my favorite parts of each day.

“Wait, who’s that guy?” she asks me.

“He’s Amara’s sister’s ex-lover.”

“Oh, right,” Ma says. “What is he doing?”

“I don’t know, Ma.”

The telenovela is always accompanied by extensive commentary and questions from my mom, which is another reason I love watching it with her.

There’s something else about this show—a reason it means so much to me. Halfway through the second season, the main character’s former-enemy-turned-best-friend came out as gay. It was a few episodes later, on a night a lot like this, that I finally found the courage to turn toward my mom and say, “You know Roberto? How he’s into other men?”

Ma nodded quickly.

“Well, it’s just that, sometimes… I feel the same way as he does.”

Coming out to Ma was faster and easier than I ever imagined it would be. I don’t know how much Pasiones de tu Corazón had to do with that, but I think it may have made it a little easier for Ma to understand how I felt. And seeing someone fall in love with another man on-screen somehow made me feel less alone.

“Why is he putting all that money into the bag?” Sophie asks from behind the couch.

“Sophie, go to your room!” Ma says without taking her eyes off the TV.

Sophie turns around reluctantly, but she leaves her bedroom door open. She knows she’s not supposed to watch Pasiones—Ma says it’s too grown-up for her—but she finds ways to keep up to speed with the story without us realizing.

We’re holding our breath, watching as the guy on the screen swings the bag of money across his chest, when something happens. There’s a knock on the door. Our door.

Ma and I turn to look at each other. Her expression quickly shifts from shock to fear. No one ever comes knocking at this time.

Pa walks out of his room. He’s wearing his pajamas, and he looks just as scared as we feel. I know we’re all thinking the same thing. We’re imagining ICE agents out in the hallway, here to take my dad away.

Another knock comes, more desperate than the first.