Adela is an immigration judge from one of San Diegoâs wealthiest Mexican-American families. She was raised to believe she has nothing in common with the asylum seekers in her courtroom. Paul left behind his life as a Manhattan lawyer to volunteer at the border. He has lost faith in the system, but not those who still turn to it for justice. Adela and Paul come to the Tijuana/San Diego border searching, but neither one knowing exactly what forâuntil they find each other. Against the backdrop of the âRemain in Mexicoâ policy and restrictions on asylum, Adela and Paul fight for love in a system that seems determined to destroy it.
Adela is an immigration judge from one of San Diegoâs wealthiest Mexican-American families. She was raised to believe she has nothing in common with the asylum seekers in her courtroom. Paul left behind his life as a Manhattan lawyer to volunteer at the border. He has lost faith in the system, but not those who still turn to it for justice. Adela and Paul come to the Tijuana/San Diego border searching, but neither one knowing exactly what forâuntil they find each other. Against the backdrop of the âRemain in Mexicoâ policy and restrictions on asylum, Adela and Paul fight for love in a system that seems determined to destroy it.
Judge Adela Fernandez was curious about the new lawyer in her courtroom. It wasnât what he said, or the high school Spanish she overheard from the bench. No, that didnât impress her. Â
It was what he didnât say. The way he listened to his client, the young man at his side with caramel skin several shades lighter than her own. How he leaned in and his client didnât back away. There was trust between them, that rarest of resources at the border these days. Â
Adela had never seen this kind of trust in the eyes of an asylum seeker. More common were the blank, numb stares, or terrified eyes searching for answers. Those were the eyes she saw every day in her courtroom, and every night as she closed her eyes and tried to sleep.
It took time to build trust, time that the âRemain in Mexicoâ policy did not allow. This policy effectively ended legal representation for asylum seekers by forcing them to wait in Mexican border towns as their cases crawled through the U.S. legal system. Tens of thousands of migrants from all over the world were stuck in makeshift refugee camps, preyed upon by local cartels. Lawyers stayed away. Except this one, apparently. Â
âDHS Docket Number 19-24231.â The clerkâs announcement drew Adela out of her thoughts.Â
âThank you, Gabe,â Adela said, glancing at the case file. Â
The lawyerâs name was Paul Carter, and he was the attorney of record for Adelaâs first asylum case that afternoon. His client was Jorge Sanchez, a twenty-six year old asylum seeker from El Salvador. His collared shirt was way too loose and clearly borrowed for the occasion. Adelaâs eyes lingered on the backpack at his feet. It held everything Jorge would carry with him into his new life, if she granted his asylum claim.
Adela felt a wave of relief that Jorge was not alone. It made her job much easier when both sides had lawyersâJorge had Paul, and the U.S. government had Harold, the ICE attorney sitting to Paulâs left, picking his fingernails. Â
Most days Haroldâs job was easy. About a quarter of the asylum seekers on Adelaâs docket didnât make it to court; the rest came without a lawyer. It was childâs play for Harold to go up against an unrepresented asylum seeker. Few of them knew the law or the language and many were still suffering from the trauma that led them to leave everything behind in the first place. All it took was a single inconsistent detail or missing document for Harold to claim victory and send them back to the place of their persecution.
Today, Harold would have to work. Jorge had a lawyer, and as Adela was about to learn, not just any lawyer.Â
âYour Honor, may I approach the bench?â Paul asked.
Adela found his voice confident yet kind, like her fatherâs. It wasnât the false confidence too common in the halls of the San Diego courthouse where she worked. Â
âYou may,â Adela said.
Paul rose and walked towards her, a stack of documents in his hand.
Adela felt a rush as she saw the rest of him. Tall and lean, his body would have fit in well with the surfer crowd a few miles away. Overdue for a haircut, his sandy hair curled up at the edges. His skin was sun-kissed but still reddish in spots. The sunburn cast a boyish charm over his otherwise professional demeanor. Â
Adela could not recall seeing him before today. She would have remembered. The sunburn suggested he was not a local. Where was he from? What was he doing here? As Paul handed her a set of papers, Adela noticed there was no ring. Was it wrong for her to look? A betrayal of judicial propriety? Â
Oh please, she thought. She was still a woman under the robe, after all.
âYour Honor, Iâd like to enter these documents into the record,â Paul said. âWe had them authenticated at the Salvadoran Consulate, and just received them back yesterday.â Â
Adela saw Harold shift in his seat. Authenticated documents could not be discredited. It was a form of verification used abroad, similar to notarization in the U.S. Whatever documents Paul had authenticated would carry much more weight now, and help Jorgeâs case.
Paul handed Harold an extra copy of the stack. He was comfortable in the courtroom, and wasnât going to waste her time. Adela liked that.
âIâm going to need time to look these over,â Harold said with a grunt.
Adela raised her eyebrows at him, and he cowered. Â
âTen minutes?â Harold asked.
âYou have five,â Adela said. âThese arenât new documents. Theyâve just been authenticated. We canât fall behind today, not with the current backlog.â Adela delighted in using Haroldâs favorite line against him. For Harold, the infamous immigration court backlog had become an excuse to deny asylum seekers extra time, or shut down Adelaâs attempts to explain the process to the unrepresented.Â
The hint of a smile crossed Paulâs lips. Adela tried to ignore the flicker this set off inside her. She lowered her eyes to study Jorgeâs file. His case began seven months ago at the San Ysidro Port of Entry on the San Diego and Tijuana border. San Ysidro was the busiest land port in the Western Hemisphere, and where most of Adelaâs cases began.
Jorge was in court for his Merit Hearing, the final stage in the asylum process. His file was thick from rescheduled hearings, affidavits, declarations and evidence. Adela braced herself for what was to come. She had only been on the bench for six months, but that was long enough to know Jorgeâs story would haunt her like the others. Â
Asylum cases are unique in immigration law. Asylum seekers do not come for economic opportunity or reunification with family members in the U.S. They come for safety. In order to win asylum, petitioners must prove they fled persecution either committed or permitted by their home government. This type of persecution has no solution other than to flee. Asylum seekers are among the most vulnerable and desperate people alive. They are armed with little else than their internationally recognized right of asylum, the same right that landed them in Adelaâs courtroom.
Adela often questioned if she was the best one for the job, given the way she was raised. Her parents knew she was a judge, but not an immigration judge. Judge was a title they could brag about to their wealthy Mexican-American friends. An immigration judge would be a disgrace.
Harold grimaced and said, âIâm ready.â
âSame here,â Paul was quick to reply.Â
As he said it, Paul stared into Adelaâs eyes, deep into all of her hidden places. The flicker was now growing into a flame. Adela knew it would be more than Jorgeâs story burned into her memory this time. It would be his lawyerâs eyes, and this feeling she had to get under control, and fast.
âVery well,â Adela said, finding her breath and swallowing hard. âCounsel for the petitioner, you may begin.â
I chose to read this book because it looked well researched regarding asylum seekers, the writing style flowed from the very first page, and it was easy to read. I was more intrigued by the descriptions of the courtroom scenes and the way that the author described asylum seekers, immigration, and prejudice near and far from the border than by the love story. This book would appeal strongly to those who enjoy love-at-first-sight romances, courtroom dramas, and social issues.
Regarding the romantic plot - I felt like the novel could have been longer to fully develop the romantic relationship between Adela and Paul. I felt like the romance went from first dates and lust to in love too fast. I really, really wanted them to get together after their compelling backstories. They were meant for each other but I wanted the relationship to grow more before they encountered complications at the border. I don't believe highly educated people would drop everything and risk so much for each other after only spending a few days together.
The courtroom action and legalese speak were fascinating and cleverly explained through the character's thoughts and opinions and even body language. When the characters showed how they felt about some of the legal actions (or inactions) I learned about the implications of these actions.
I learned so much about asylum seekers from reading this book. Some of the details about the hardships endured during the months' long uphill legal battles for gaining asylum into the United States didn't even seem real! The difficulty and apathy of the system for those seeking asylum were hard to swallow. A country that advocates for freedom isn't free for everyone. It's hard for me to wrap my head around the fact that birthplace is enough for some people to discriminate against. Birthplace can be a privilege. I know I take it for granted. It made me angry, just like it made Adela and Paul angry, to hear about these injustices and the blatant lies and prejudicial treatment people in positions of power wielded towards those less fortunate or just trying to make a better life for themselves. A good book can make you angry, make you feel something, make you understand and sympathize. Asylum made me feel all sorts of angry. But the book also reminded me that not everyone is a good person or has good motives. How far does the corruption go? This book points out small injustices and biases as well as indicating a larger issue with the justice system, immigration law, and asylum in general. I started to question the more I read. What if there is even more conspiracy? What if cartels pay off someone in the system to deport those who will be granted asylum just so they can be held for ransom? How far does it go!?