"What do we do with it?" I looked up at Larrana. The light from our small lantern cast her face into shadow, and I couldn't see her eyes.
"We should save it. For an apartment and stuff." I said.
"But what if we don't get across?"
"Don't think like that."
"No, I mean..." Larrana paused. "I think we should hire a coyote." I jerked my head up.
"Ohhh, I never...but isn't it dangerous?"
"What's the risk we don't get across the border at all? What if we get caught? This is our best bet at actually having a new life...our new life."
Cricket music filled the barn. Larrana's hair slipped from her ear and fell over her face like a curtain. María breathed in, out. In, out.
"Yeah. Okay." I said.
YOU ARE READING
Home of the Brave
Short StoryImmigrants are often viewed as waves of unwanted citizens. You don't see their faces or hear their stories. Read from the journal entries of Clara, a sixteen-year-old crossing Mexico at an attempt to cross the U.S. border with her friend Larrana and...
