Page 106 of Hail Marry
“Um, I don’t know. That’s why I’m calling.”
“Hold on just a second,” he says. “I’m at a late lunch, so I just need a second to step away.”
I wait, my heart racing as the ambient noise of clinking silverware and conversation gradually dampens.
“Okay,” he says. “What’s up, Victoria?”
I take in a deep breath. “Luca and I just got a visit from two immigration officers.”
There’s a short silence. “Oh.”
“Yeah. They wanted to ask us some questions and basically go through the house.”
He swears.
That’s not encouraging.
“How did that go?” he asks.
“Um…not great.” I can’t really expound more than that because Preston doesn’t know the truth. “Is that a normal thing for them to do?”
“It’s not standard. It means they flagged your file. They do unannounced visits when they have reason to suspect a marriage has been entered into fraudulently. Jeez. I’m sorry, Victoria.”
Not as sorry as I am. “What happens if they feel the visit went poorly?”
There’s a pause, like he’s trying to figure out what exactly is behind my question. What he should understand from it. “If the visit didn’t resolve whatever concerns they had, it’ll likely result in a Stokes interview.”
It rings a faint bell from my research, but I can’t remember why. “What’s that?”
“It’s kind of like the interview you already had, but more intense. In this one, husband and wife get questioned together, then separately. Your answers are compared against each other.”
I swallow, hoping it’ll get rid of my sudden desire to throw up. “And if you failthatinterview?”
Another pause. “If you fail that, things get a lot more serious.”
My mouth is Sahara-dry. “Serious how?”
“Serious like…Luca’s green card application is denied and he has to appear before an immigration judge who would rule on deportation. Both of you could face fines and criminal charges and, in egregious cases, jail time. Luca could be permanently barred from entering the U.S.”
My breath comes more quickly as visions of this future flash before my eyes. Luca’s NFL dream up in smoke. Him being forced back to Canada. Us separated.
“Okay,” I say as brightly as I can with my eyes brimming with tears. “Thank you, Preston. We’ll keep you posted.”
I hang up before he even has a chance to say goodbye.
I can’t hold it together any longer, and a sob escapes me.
My first impulse is to call Luca and tell him what Preston said. But he needs his focus for the game. I don’t want to throw this on his shoulders until that’s done. If his NFL games are numbered, at least let this one be untainted.
I need to talk to someone, but no one knows about Luca and me. Except Zach, and he’s rock bottom on my list of people to call for advice. Why didn’t he warn us about any of this?
I scroll through my text threads and tap on Siena’s name. I stare at our conversation about reflux and Tums, my nerves firing like the finale of a firework show. Can I tell her the truth? What will she say?
I tap the call button before I can change my mind. The line doesn’t even ring once before it’s picked up.
“I’m so glad you didn’t FaceTime,” she says, “because I look like a whale.”
I give a teary laugh.
