“Sophie? Are you there?” she asks as soon as I answer.

“She’s here, Ma,” I say, passing the phone to my sister.

“Happy birthday, mija!”

The kitchen gets loud as Ma, Pa, and Sophie all talk at the same time. Sophie tries to tell them about the present I got her, while Ma talks about how beautiful and grown she’s getting, and Pa asks what we’ve got planned for the day.

“We’re going to the Central Park Zoo,” Uncle Jorge says.

Ma lets out a small gasp. “That sounds fun!”

“Are you excited, mi princesa?” Pa asks, but there is no response.

I turn to look at Sophie. The hand she’s holding the phone with is shaking, and she’s staring down at her pancakes without blinking.

“Hello?” Pa asks. “Are you kids still there?”

“We’re here, Pa,” I say. “Sophie? Are you excited about going to the zoo?”

“Yeah,” Sophie answers slowly. “I just wish Ma and Pa could be here.”

“Oh, Sophie,” Ma cries out. “Me too, mija. Me too.”

“We’re still here,” Pa adds. “We’re here for you always. Don’t forget that.”

Sophie nods to herself, but her hand doesn’t stop shaking. I know exactly what she’s thinking. Ma and Pa keep saying that we can still count on them, that even if they’re far away they’ll always be looking out for us, but it just isn’t the same as having them here.

It’s not the same, I almost say out loud, but I stop myself in time.

“I just… I wanna be with you,” Sophie says, and we all go very quiet. “I wanna go to Mexico.”

“Sophie, you…” Ma sighs, unable to finish her sentence.

“You don’t belong in Mexico, mija. You’re much better off in the United States than you would be here,” Pa says. “And you have Mateo.”

“I don’t care,” my sister answers quickly. “I don’t care about being in the United States. I just wanna be where you are. Why can’t I just come live with you?”

Again, there’s heavy silence. I talked about this with Ma and Pa a few days after they were deported—about the thought of me and Sophie joining them in Mexico, but we realized right away that it wouldn’t make sense. We can’t leave the only country we’ve ever called home, or our schools, or the stability that Jorge and Amy have been able to give us, especially not while Ma and Pa are still struggling to find their way in Mexico.

“You have to be strong, mija,” Pa says.

“Sé fuerte y sé valiente, Sophie. Just hang on, mi nena.”