Chapter 11

 

Chapter 11: The Story Spreads

Becky sat at the kitchen table, staring at the laptop screen.

A reporter from the Fair Lawn Gazette had emailed Gabriela, asking if Becky would be willing to share her story.

“Do you want to do this, mi amor?” Tía Rosa asked gently.

Becky hesitated. Part of her was nervous—she wasn’t used to speaking in front of cameras or strangers. But another part of her remembered what Mr. Alvarez said: The more people who know, the better chance we have of bringing them home.

She took a deep breath. “Yes.”

The Interview

The next day, Becky and Tía Rosa met the reporter, Ms. Lillian Perez, at a small community center. Ms. Perez was warm and kind, asking Becky questions in a soft voice.

“When did you last see your parents?”

Becky’s throat tightened. “The morning of the raid. I was going to school. I hugged my mom and told her I didn’t want to say goodbye.”

Ms. Perez nodded. “And what do you want people to know about your parents?”

“That they don’t deserve this,” Becky said firmly. “My mom is a nurse. My dad builds houses. They work hard. They pay taxes. They love me and my little brother. They belong here.”

Ms. Perez smiled. “You’re very brave, Becky. I promise, I’ll make sure people hear your story.”

The Petition

That night, Gabriela called.

“Becky, people are already talking about your story. I think we should start a petition to demand your parents’ release.”

“What’s a petition?” Becky asked.

“It’s a way to show that a lot of people support you,” Gabriela explained. “If enough people sign, we can send it to the judge before the bond hearing.”

Becky nodded. “Let’s do it.”

Within hours, the petition was online.

“Bring Rosa and Manuel Hernandez Home: Stop the Deportation of Hardworking Parents.”

Becky stared at the screen.

It had already gotten over 200 signatures.

Her heart swelled.

People cared.

The Bond Hearing is Set

A week later, Mr. Alvarez called with big news.

“We have a bond hearing,” he said.

Becky sat up straight. “When?”

“Next Tuesday. If the judge agrees, your parents could be released while they fight their case.”

Becky’s heart raced.

This was it.

This was their chance.

As Becky wrote in her diary that night, she felt something she hadn’t in a long time.

“Dear Diary,
We have a hearing. We have a petition. We have people who care.

I don’t know what will happen, but I know one thing—

I’m not giving up.”

She closed the diary and whispered into the darkness.

“We’re coming for you, Mommy. Papi. Hold on.”