I’m hoping Mr. Wilkins will hand over all the answers to me. I’m hoping he will tell me exactly what to do, and what to say, and what types of things will sway the judge’s opinion so she’ll allow my dad to stay in the country. But instead, he asks me a question.

“Why is it important for you to have your dad remain in the United States?”

“Excuse me?”

“Why should he be allowed to stay?”

“Because… he’s my dad! How can you even expect me to—”

“Now, don’t get mad at me,” Mr. Wilkins interrupts me calmly. “Because these are precisely the types of questions that you might have to answer in front of the judge. And you need to be ready.”

I take slow breaths, trying to think of a good enough answer.

“I guess I… I need my dad to stay because of my sister. She needs him—we both do, and I can’t raise her on my own.”

I can tell that Mr. Wilkins isn’t satisfied. Truth be told, I’m not satisfied with myself, either. Why is it that I’m having such a hard time coming up with something? Deep down, I know the answer to his questions. I can feel it—I feel the need to have Pa here, but I just don’t know how to put my feelings into words. I have no way of speaking up about all this longing, this anger, this sadness in a way that will make sense to someone else. I have no way to make other people see the hole that my parents left in our lives when they were detained.

Mr. Wilkins asks me a few follow-up questions, tries to get to the bottom of my emotions so I’ll be able to express them in front of the judge, but we don’t have much success.

The longer we sit here, the more anxious I get. Every time I think about being in a courtroom, I start to feel nauseous. Once or twice, my stomach twists, and I almost get up to run to the bathroom, thinking I’m gonna throw up.

I don’t know how I’m going to do this. I don’t know how I’m gonna be able to convince the judge that my dad deserves to stay in America when lately, I haven’t been feeling American myself, when I’ve been thinking about everything that separates me from Kimmie and Adam, when I’ve spent the last six weeks feeling like an outsider.

In the end, there’s not much left for me to say but, “Can you promise me something?”

Mr. Wilkins raises his eyebrows, listening intently.

“Will you promise that you will do everything you can to help my parents stay in the country? That you’ll fight for them as hard as you can?”