Page 107 of Hail Marry
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” she says, her tone changing completely. “What’s wrong?”
I brush away my tears quickly. “Nothing.”
“Victoria Sheppard Callahan the First,” she says sternly. “Do not lie to me, young lady. What’s going on?”
I work to get control of myself, then launch inelegantly into the long, winding explanation. How Luca and I met. His visa situation. The plan we hatched. All the ways the plan has had to change. The ways it’s gone wrong. And, finally, my fear that not only will Luca’s dream be ruined, but he’ll be deported.
Communicating this is anything but efficient, since it’s peppered with Siena’s exclamations, but at the end, there’s silence.
Siena whistles softly. “Wow. You’ve really outdone yourself this time, Tor.”
“Ugh. Not helpful.”
“I know. I just had to say it. But it’s out of my system, and now I’ve got my helpful hat on. So, let’s break this situation down. You got married to help Luca get a visa. And now you’re afraid he’ll have to go back to Canada.”
“Yeah,” I say softly.
“Lemme ask you something else: what would you be losing if he did?”
My brows snap together. “What do you mean?”
“I mean,” she says, “that you got married for practical reasons, right? So, even though it’d be awful for Luca’s future in the NFL, what are you, Tori, actually losing?”
“Um, a husband,” I say incredulously.
“A fake husband,” she corrects.
I scoff. “He’s my actual husband, Siena. We got married for real.”
“On paper, yes.”
“No,notjust on paper,” I say, starting to get frustrated. “That’s how it started, yeah, but we’re kind of past that now.”
“Meaning…”
And now I get it. She’s being intentionally dense about this. She wants me to say it. To say the thing I haven’t said to anyone—not even to myself. “Meaning,” I say slowly, “that I actually love him.”
“And does he love you back?”
I’m quiet for a second. “I think so? Maybe. I don’t know. I’m pretty sure he has feelings for me. I just don’t know how deep they run. I was about to find out when those dumb immigration people showed up and ruined everything.” I wish so badly that I could go back to that moment and ignore the doorbell.
“Don’t be ridiculous. Of course he loves you. I was just testing you. I’ve seen the man look at you.” She sips from her drink, which I can imagine propped on her stomach. “Okay. Let’s adopt the worst-case scenario, just for funsies. Say he does get deported. You could go live with him in Canada, right?”
“I don’t know. Could I?”
“Let’s check. Ugh. My laptop is like four feet away. Can you get yours?”
I put my phone on speaker, then start searching the internet to see whether it’d be possible for me to go live in Canada after we’ve both been charged with immigration fraud. I’ve never been to Canada. Maybe I’d love it. But wouldhe?
“So?” Siena prompts as I read over information on a Reddit thread.
My heart sinks. “No. My immigration file would have a note about the fraud. Canada wouldn’t let me in.”
Siena swears. “You could abscond to Belize or something. I hear it’s pretty easy to move there.”
“I don’t want tolivein Belize, Siena. I want to vacation there.”
She sighs. “Fair enough. Then your best option is to find a way to pass this interview and convince them not to deport Luca.”
