Page 90 of Hail Marry
Tori and I agreed ahead of time that we would take turns answering questions. The first ones are just about our names and birthdates. He asks me for the names of Tori’s parents, and my stomach clenches, even though I know the answer. It’s what’s coming next that worries me.
“What are the names of Luca’s parents?” he asks Tori.
She glances at me. “I actually don’t know that.”
Officer Dawson looks up at us over the rim of his glasses.
“I don’t talk about my parents,” I clarify. “I never knew my dad, and I haven’t been in contact with my mom for a long time.”
He nods. “I see.”
The next set of questions is about how we met, which Tori answers truthfully, and then about our life together at home—our daily routines, whether we have pets, who cooks and cleans—which we also answer truthfully.
He peppers us with a few questions about the last movie we watched and where we went out to eat most recently, then how often we see our families—well,herfamily.
“Luca,” he says, “you have a felony charge on your record. Isn’t that right?”
My muscles tense, but Tori squeezes my hand.
“Yes, sir,” I say.
He flips a page over and scans the paper. “I understand you pleaded down to a misdemeanor.”
“Yes, sir.”
His intent eyes rest on me for a few silent seconds, then return to his paper. “Can you tell me why we should even consider granting you a green card given your history?”
Tori’s thumb rubs my hand, and I take in a breath before answering. “What I did was wrong, sir. When I realized my grandma was being threatened and taken advantage of, I was angry, and I let my emotions take control. There were other options I should have pursued for justice, and while I still maintain that the man prosecuting me deserved to have consequences to his actions as well, I regret the injuries I caused him. I don’t know if you have any information from after my conviction, but I’ve tried my hardest to do everything I was supposed to and to prove I’ve learned and grown.”
Tori’s hand shifts, and she threads her fingers through mine.
“I have the notes from your probation officer here,” the officer says. “He says you were…exemplary. And Victoria”—he looks at her—“how did your knowledge of Luca’s criminal record affect your decision to marry him?”
It was the literal reason for it.
“Honestly? It made me love him more.”
The man’s brows hitch, and I look at her in surprise.
“Luca is modest, sir,” she says. “He experienced significant injustice through our country’s justice system, but he hasn’t let it make him bitter. He hasn’t let it turn him off of becoming a citizen. He’s accepted the responsibility he bears and has done everything possible to demonstrate the type of person he is, because he isso much more than those few moments. Apart from all of that, though…a man who loves his grandma fiercely enough to protect her the way he did?” She looks at me, a soft smile on her face. “How could Inotlove and want someone like that?”
I swallow, my heart racing. I know this interview is about projecting the right image, but those words still hit a bullseye. I’ve struggled with feeling wanted my whole life. When the person who’s supposed to love you most in life sends you away without a backward glance? It kind of does a number on your self-worth.
If my mom didn’t want me, how could Tori feel for me even a fraction of what I feel for her? And yet, her eyes are full of sincerity as she holds my gaze.
“You had a very fast courtship,” the man says. “Exceptionally fast. Can you tell me about that, Luca?”
We knew this was coming, but despite that, my heart pumps with the same force it does when we’re fourth and goal in the final seconds of a game. Tori and I agreed multiple times that we would keep as close to the truth as possible. The truth, in this case, is that wedidn’tspend every moment together after she left the hospital. We saw each other a few times, and I called her to check in on her a couple times. That was it. I don’t know how to believably claim otherwise.
But there are other truths I can use.
“Have you ever been in love, sir?” I ask.
His pen stops scratching, and he looks at me over his glasses again. “Um…yes. I have.”
“Have you ever known you wanted someone in your life almost as soon as you met them?”
His gaze searches mine, but he doesn’t answer.
