Page 51 of Mouse Trapped
“Dreamers can’t be charged with a felony. If they are, they lose that protection. Cops picked her up, ran her fingerprints and called in ICE. She’s now in a detention centre waiting to be deported.”
“Well, I can’t really help with that. Don’t agree with all these people coming into our country. She’ll have to go back to her own.”
I blink slowly. It’s just as I had feared. “Her father raped her mother before she escaped. My fiancée’s got a brother who was born in Arizona. Their mother got deported when he was nine, was killed by her father almost as soon as she got home. Mariana, my fiancée, has been responsible for the kid for six years. Been a mother to him. If she’s deported, kid will have lost his only family.”
“Well, that’s just a shame. But the authorities will look after him.”
“Authorities did fuck all when they took her mother. Left a fourteen-year-old girl to look after her young brother. No one went to check on them. Forgot they existed. She kept them together when no one else cared. I’m the boy’s legal guardian now that she’s imprisoned. He’s devastated at losing the sister who’s been like a parent to him.”
“Look, I’m sure all that was a mistake.” She starts to shift as though uncomfortable. “I don’t see how I can help you, I’m sorry. But I’ve no time for anyone who comes here illegally.”
I narrow my eyes. “Your family, Ma’am. Or your husband’s? Schmitt, did you say your name was? You descendants of Germans?”
“Austrians,” she corrects. “My late husband’s relatives came from Austria.”
“And your own?”
Her hands flutter. “Ireland. But way back then you didn’t need to prove anything.”
“But your ancestors reaped the benefits of living in the US?”
“And we’ve given back. We’ve all paid taxes.”
“So does Mariana. And if she can complete her education, she’ll be a nurse.”
Now she brightens as if she can prove something. “Don’t like foreign nurses. Can’t understand a word they say.”
“Mariana speaks nothing but English, and has done so all her life.” I sigh, hoping to find something to get through to her. “If she’s sent back to Colombia, she’ll be in a country she’s never known, unable to speak the language. What if you were sent back to Ireland?”
“Ireland’s a lovely place.”
It probably is, now. “But what if it was a time when the troubles were still going on? The IRA bombings and killings. And if everyone around you spoke Gaelic.” I raise my hands. “I don’t see how I can convince you, but I’m not asking you to do anything wrong. All I’m asking is that you tell the truth.”
Her head tilts to one side, and her brow creases. Suddenly she gives a startled laugh. “You are, aren’t you?” Her frown deepens. “You marrying this girl so she can get her green card?”
“No, Ma’am, I’m not. I’m marrying her because I love her.” My lips curl. Somehow that’s right. Sounds stupid, but she’sfound herself a place in my heart. The more I try to make it a reality, the more I know I want her with me for the rest of my life.
She looks at me sharply, then smiles. “She must be one special lady.”
“She is.”
Chapter 21
Mariana
“Come on. You’ve got a visitor.”
It’s not visiting time.Wary, remembering the last time I was taken away from the rest of the inmates, I move slowly to my feet, putting down the book I was reading. The female guard gestures at me impatiently. There’s nothing else I can do but follow her.
I still haven’t got my bearings here yet, but I know I’m not being taken to the room where I met Tse, instead I’m taken down different corridors. A door is opened, and I’m pushed inside. There’s a table and two chairs, one placed either side of the desk.
Wrapping my arms around myself, I stay on my feet, scared, not knowing who’s going to come in.
It’s not long before I hear the tapping of high heels coming down the corridor.That’s not one of the guards, they don’t wear shoes like that.My eyes firmly fixed on the door, I watch the handle turning, then raise my eyes to the person who’s just walked in.
“Carissa,” I exclaim, as relief washes over me. Tears prick at the back of my eyes. Much as I like seeing Tse, if anyone, it’s her who’s got any chance of getting me out of here. I examine her face.Has she news? And if she has, is it good or bad?
“Mariana.” She smiles her pleasant smile, waving me to the seat behind the desk, then takes the one with her back facingthe door for herself. As she sits down, I try to read her face, but it’s impossible. I doubt I’d want to play poker with her.
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