“No contact with detainees, ma’am.” Bailey holds out his hand. “Please step away.”

I ignore Bailey and keep my eyes on Javier’s. “I’m here. Corazón y alma.”

He’ll know it’s from Maria. And from me. Bailey drags him to the table. In minutes, a sharply dressed man strides in with a leather briefcase. Lawyer. I expect him to take ICE’s table but he sits by Javier. How did Javier get a sharply dressed lawyer? Maybe Aiden? The emptiness inside vibrates with something like life.

“Mr. Solis, Christopher Benetto with the law firm Benetto and Briggs. I apologize I couldn’t meet you at the detention center. I was getting the details on your case.”

Benetto scans the courtroom. His eyes rest briefly on Reagan and me. He and Javier whisper ear to ear away from Bailey. After some hushed conversation, Benetto strides toward us.

“Miss Snow, Miss Starr, are you both documented?”

“Yes, sir. I’m on my grace period, Reagan is a citizen.”

“Good. Listen. It’s imperative that you don’t say anything during the hearing. Sometimes families and friends speak up but that does more harm than good. Particularly if you know something that could hurt him.” As he says the last words, Benetto looks straight at me. I know what he is not saying. Javier has worked illegally and I am a witness. If I speak up and ICE questions me under oath, I could harm Javier.

“Did someone turn him in?” I try to speak normally but my voice comes out in whooshy wisps of air.

“Yes. ICE got an anonymous tip. It must have been someone who knew when and where Javier would be.”

“Was it the DOJ? They’ve been investigating a few things,” I suggest.

Reagan raises an eyebrow at this news but I squeeze her hand. There will be time to tell later.

Benetto shakes his head. “No, I checked. They seem to have closed the investigation and are starting Feign’s prosecution. The tip came from somewhere else—before the DOJ closed the file.”

Incapable of doing something productive with that information, I focus on other horrors. “Does this mean that ICE will go after his parents now too?”

Benetto smiles for the first time. “That’s highly unlikely. Recent presidential orders require ICE to focus on high-priority cases. They won’t waste resources on his parents. And even if they did, they wouldn’t deport them and leave the minor girls alone. Still, it’s best if his parents keep their distance—avoid the lion’s den, as it were.”

I draw in some air—one horror down, too many more to go. “Mr. Benetto, what about your fee? Javier doesn’t have much money and—”

“Don’t worry, Miss Snow. I can do this pro bono but fee arrangements are privileged. I cannot discuss them with you but he’ll be taken care of.”

“How did you hear about Javier?” Something isn’t clicking. How would Benetto know about a random immigrant getting caught?

“I can’t discuss that either. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” He ends the discussion with a nod and strides back to Javier. They resume their whispering. I keep my eyes on Javier, a symbiotic line keeping us tethered.

ICE comes with pageantry. One lawyer and two support staff. When they walk past us, the lawyer’s eyes linger on Reagan and me. He takes his place at his table, setting out high stacks of paper and scribbling. I look away from his furious hand flying across the pages, and fix my eyes on Javier. The only way I can tell he is breathing is by the small rise of his shoulders.

In twelve shoulder rises, the Honorable Judge Lopez walks in and we stand. The judge watches Javier as he swears to tell the truth, and nothing but the truth, so help him God.

Help him God? Whose God? Who is he swearing to? The government that won’t recognize him? How can you recognize a man’s word but not his life? What credentials do we have but the way we live?

ICE puts on its case. Illegal alien for ten years. He is not eligible for relief from deportation. The anonymous tipster mentioned painting supplies and frames. This evidence indicates he’s working illegally somewhere. He has accomplices that will harbor him. He will disappear. He should not be released on bond. ICE rains blows on Javier. He’s a creature of law, not of nature. Not a human, an alien. Not undocumented, illegal. Not families, accomplices.

When ICE rests its case, Benetto takes over. Javier came here as a young teenager. He has minor sisters who are citizens, talented and dependent on him financially. His father is injured. He has no criminal history. He will return for the hearing. He should be released on bond. Benetto’s tactic is simple: highlight the man, the son, the brother, and not the law.

At last, it’s over, and a silence descends on my eardrums. Judge Lopez’s face is inscrutable. He taps his pen mutely on the bench.

It’s freezing…I’m barefoot…the hospital gown billows around me…rows of stainless steel boxes in the wall, doors shut.

“Isa?” Reagan whispers urgently in my ear. I resurface as the judge’s voice fills the room.

“Mr. Benetto, does your client have a legal basis that may allow him to stay? Marriage to a citizen or children?”

“Not at this time, Your Honor. However, he has exigent circumstances with his family. We’ll be pursuing that argument vigorously.”

“They all have exigent circumstances, Mr. Benetto, but the success of his removal is not before me today. I need to decide if I’ll release him until then.

“I understand Mr. Solis has strong ties to this land. But unfortunately, none of them give him a statutory basis for relief. On the contrary, they make him a flight risk. He has reason to run and not return if I release him. Bond denied. He will remain in detention but I will expedite his removal hearing to June fifteenth. I will review your evidence about his role in his sisters’ well-being at that time. Adjourned.”

Javier’s body slumps, mine with his. Benetto lifts him and Reagan lifts me to stand for the judge. I have no lungs, no heart, no blood. Not even tears. Benetto takes Javier’s arm, Bailey shadowing their every move.

At last, Javier looks at me. Eye to eye. I know we’re seeing the same thing. Our first Christmas. Carnitas. Dancing. Babysitting. Feign jokes. Paintings.

Paintings? ICE said the tipster knew about painting supplies and frames. Only three people know about the paintings outside of family: Feign, Aiden and Benson. An idea tries to take root in my head like a poisonous weed but my mind rejects it.

Javier, Benetto and Bailey start moving in a slow procession. As they pass by us, Javier stops in front of me. As if released by his presence, my tears finally flow and drip between us. I throw my arms around him, ignoring Bailey’s protests. Let him arrest me for holding my only family.

“Isa.” Javier speaks softly, tucking my head in his chest. He no longer smells like peppermint and paint. Only like an aged home. “Don’t tell the girls and don’t bring them here. They won’t understand.”

“I know.”

“And don’t you come here unless you have that green card in your hands. Swear it.”

“What? No—” I lean back to argue but Benetto places his hand on my shoulder.

“He’s right, Miss Snow,” Benetto says. “If you’ll be evaluated, it’s best to be safe.”

“But who’ll come to see you? I don’t want you to be alone.”

“I will.” Reagan’s voice is thick but confident. “Every day, Javier. Anything you need.” Javier thanks her, his face registering a shadow of embarrassment and surprise. Then he turns to me and takes my hands.

“Don’t let them starve if this doesn’t work out,” he whispers.

“I won’t,” I promise.

He holds my gaze for a long moment then, abruptly, crushes me to his chest. His tight hold hurts my bruises and I jerk reflexively. He notices my reaction and frowns.

“It’s nothing. Just me being stupid.”

He looks like he’s about to say something but Benetto nudges him. Bailey is watching us. I want to ask about Javier’s call with Aiden but I can’t here.