“So you foster kids who have been allowed to stay in the country?”
She nodded. “But we’re also participating in a trial to foster children who are waiting for their applications to be processed. Studies have shown that detention centers suck, in particular for kids. They feel trapped, isolated, and scared of what is going to happen to them. We’ve got three girls with us at the moment who are part of this trial.”
“Who makes the decision?”
“The immigration court.”
“How do they decide?”
“One way is for the girls to prove they’re in danger if they go home.”
“And are they?” From what he knew, the immigrants from Central America were looking for a free ride and preferred the States to their home countries.
Fire sparked in her eyes. “Yes.”
“How do you know?” He was curious.
“Because they’ve told us their stories. Two girls are fleeing from gang violence and one girl is running from her abusive stepfather.”
“Do they have proof?”
“Not usually.” She glared at him. “When they’re running for their lives, they don’t usually stop to take evidence.”
The sarcasm was clear. “Of course.” David smiled agreeably, not wanting to upset her further. “How can you tell they’re telling the truth?”
“I’ve seen their pain and their fear. I’ve heard their stories. They’re not lying.”
“So it comes down to their word?” Perhaps she was a naïve bleeding heart.
“Not always.” Her hands were on her hips and her face was flushed. “We get affidavits and gather what information we can. If you want to learn, you should follow a case. Contact a detention center, talk to a child and take the journey with them through the process. Then you’ll understand.”
She looked like a blond Wonder Woman— sexy, assertive and defiant. “All right.” The more information he had, the better he could help his father if he decided to run for governor.
She blinked. “Sorry?”
“It’s a good idea. I want to learn more about the topic, and following a case makes sense.” And it gave him a legitimate reason to see her again. “You said you had a couple of girls still waiting for their application. Could I follow one of those?”
Zita hesitated for a moment. “OK. We’re preparing Teresa and Beatriz for their hearings soon.”
“Great. Let me get your number.” He pulled out his phone and typed in her details as she dictated, and then sent her a text so she had his. “I’ll look forward to your call.”
Zita nodded, looking a little suspicious.
“I’ll let you get back to your conversation.” He smiled and then walked away, knowing she was staring at him.
***
Aweek later, Zita drove the familiar route to the immigration lawyer’s office where they would meet with Shelly. Teresa was silent next to her. At fifteen, Teresa was the oldest of the girls waiting for her application to be processed, and had been in the country for a couple of months. During that time, she’d opened up about why she’d fled El Salvador and Zita’s heart bled for her. There was no way the government should send her back, but there was never any guarantee. She hoped David would realize that when he heard Teresa’s story.
“Today’s about getting the details down,” Zita told Teresa again in Spanish. “Tell us everything and Shelly will highlight what you’ll need to tell the judge.”
The girl nodded, her hands clenched so tightly her knuckles were white.
Zita sighed and parked the car. “Remember David will be there, but ignore him. He’s there to listen and no one to be afraid of.” She hoped having David there wouldn’t cause any problems, but she could always send him away.
She’d called Carly after meeting David and interrogated her about him. Though he didn’t seem as antagonistic as Bob, she couldn’t risk it. If he was in any way hostile, she wouldn’t let him anywhere near one of her girls. Carly had vouched that he was a nice guy. He worked in finance at Dionysus Oil and Gas and had been a constant support to Carly while she was finding her feet in the business world. Carly considered him a friend. That was enough for Zita.
They walked into the immigration lawyer’s office together and Zita’s attention was immediately caught by David sitting in the waiting room. He was dressed in a suit again, navy blue this time, and his smile caused her heart to speed up. He was sexier than anyone had a right to be. She acknowledged him and greeted the receptionist.
