Chapter 9

 

Chapter 9: The First Step in the Fight

The list from the mayor’s office sat on the kitchen table. Becky traced her finger over the names, reading them carefully.

“Who should we call first?” she asked.

Tía Rosa scanned the list, then pointed to one of the names. “Gabriela Rivera – Immigration Rights Advocate.”

“She works with families like ours,” Tía Rosa said. “Let’s try her.”

Becky nodded.

She wanted answers.

She wanted her parents back.

And if this woman could help, they had to try.

The Phone Call

Tía Rosa put the phone on speaker as it rang. Becky held her breath.

After a few rings, a voice answered.

“Hello, this is Gabriela Rivera.”

Tía Rosa cleared her throat. “Yes, hi… My name is Rosa Martinez. My niece’s parents were taken in an immigration raid two days ago. We don’t know where they are. We need help.”

There was a pause. Then Gabriela’s voice softened. “I’m so sorry. Can you tell me their names?”

Tía Rosa gave the information. Becky leaned closer, gripping the table edge.

“I’ll check our system,” Gabriela said. “Sometimes we can find out where people are being held.”

Becky’s heart pounded. “Can you bring them back?” she blurted.

Gabriela sighed. “I wish it were that simple, sweetheart. But I promise, I’ll do everything I can to help you.”

Tía Rosa squeezed Becky’s hand.

“Can we meet with you?” Tía Rosa asked.

“Yes,” Gabriela said. “Come to my office tomorrow. We’ll talk about next steps.”

Tía Rosa thanked her and hung up. Becky swallowed the lump in her throat.

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow, they would start fighting for real.

The Meeting

Gabriela’s office was small but filled with stacks of papers and posters about immigrant rights. A sign on the wall read: “No human is illegal.”

She was a tall woman with dark curls and kind eyes. She shook Becky’s hand like she was an adult.

“I read your letter, Becky,” Gabriela said. “You are very brave.”

Becky sat up a little taller. “I just want my parents back.”

Gabriela nodded. “I know. And we’re going to do everything we can. But this process is complicated. Immigration cases can take time. We have to act fast.”

She pulled out a folder. “The first step is finding exactly where they are. I have contacts at the detention centers. I’ll reach out today.”

Becky clenched her fists. “And then?”

“Then we fight,” Gabriela said. “We gather support. We get a lawyer. We make noise.”

“Like protests?” Becky asked.

Gabriela smiled. “Maybe. But first, we focus on getting your parents the legal help they need.”

Becky nodded. She wasn’t sure how long this would take.

But she wasn’t stopping now.

The Rally

That weekend, Gabriela invited them to a community meeting for families dealing with immigration issues.

Becky stood in the back, holding Nico’s hand. She listened as people told their stories—mothers who had been separated from their children, fathers who had been detained for months, kids just like her who were waiting for their parents to come home.

Then Gabriela took the microphone.

“I want to introduce someone special,” she said. “A young girl who wrote a letter to the mayor, demanding action. Becky, would you like to say something?”

Becky’s eyes widened. “Me?”

Tía Rosa squeezed her shoulder. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

Becky took a deep breath.

She thought about her mother’s note.

“Be strong.”

She walked to the front of the room and took the microphone.

“My name is Becky Hernandez,” she said, her voice shaking. “My parents were taken in a raid. I don’t know where they are. But I know they don’t deserve this. They work hard. They love me and my brother. They belong here.”

Her throat tightened, but she kept going.

“I don’t want to be scared anymore. I just want my family back.”

The room was silent for a moment. Then, applause erupted.

Becky looked out at the faces in the crowd—people just like her.

She wasn’t alone.

And for the first time since the raid, she believed they could win.

As they left the meeting, Gabriela turned to Becky.

“You have a powerful voice,” she said. “We’re going to use it.”

Becky held her diary close.

She didn’t know what would happen next.

But she was ready to fight.