After five months locked away at Irwin County Detention Center, Alejandra Garcia Zamarron grew panicked when she saw a familiar face arrive at the immigrant prison. It was her sister, Maytee Garcia. And she, too, was now being held at Irwin.
Once the siblings locked eyes, Alejandra began to weep.
鈥淚 was shocked,鈥� she said. 鈥淚t was devastating, and I was devastated for my mother; both of her daughters were gone.鈥�
Tylenol for the pain. Diapers for the blood. Towels for underwear.
During a day of sightseeing in Mesa, Arizona, in December 2017, Nancy Gonzalez Hidalgo and her husband decided to grab a bite to eat before stopping at a flea market to shop for children鈥檚 clothes. They had come to the U.S. the previous month on a valid tourist visa.
While they were at the restaurant, two men they had never met before sat at a nearby table. The men kept their eyes glued to their phones and didn鈥檛 speak. It was odd, Hidalgo recalled.
Alberto was riding his motorcycle alone on an empty street in Honduras when he unexpectedly heard voices behind him.
He stopped his motorcycle and looked back, watching as four gunmen sprang from their hiding spot among the trees. He recognized their faces. They had threatened him before.
They ambushed Alberto and pointed their weapons at him. They ordered him off his motorcycle, took his phone, and stole his wallet before making him walk to a river.
The gang members took Marco by surprise, attacked him, and dragged him to a cemetery in Cop谩n, Honduras.
They beat him repeatedly over the head with beer bottles. Then, they yanked his hair, pulling at it by the roots. When he tried to shield himself from the blows, shards of glass from the broken bottles cut his eye. Blood ran down his face.
Then they told him why they were beating him.
鈥淭his is what we do to gay people,鈥� one of the men said. 鈥淵ou are disgusting and a bad influence.鈥�
When P.L. traveled to the U.S. in 2007, his heart was full of hope.
His hope turned into reality as he made a home in North Carolina, where he and his wife of 12 years had three children, all of whom are U.S. citizens. The 34-year-old worked at a chicken processor. He was happy. He would have never had the chance for such a life in Mexico.
But in July 2018, the life he had created abruptly capsized when he was pulled over for a traffic stop. P.L. was detained over 500 miles away at Stewart Detention Center in Lumpkin, Georgia, where removal proceedings began against him.
After Mario Jos茅 Perez-Suazo refused the Nicaraguan paramilitary鈥檚 request for him to murder civilian protesters, he was brutally beaten and labeled a terrorist. The government denounced him, and Mario decided to flee the town of Estel铆 and seek political asylum in the United States.
Desperate, he left his home in May 2018 for a 10-day journey by bus to the U.S. He crossed through Honduras, El Salvador and Guatemala before reaching the border at Reynosa, Mexico.
Even though Sally Sylla was born in the West African nation of Guinea, she can鈥檛 locate it on a map. She鈥檚 lived in Atlanta since she was 5.
The country of her birth is completely foreign to her.
鈥淚鈥檝e been in Georgia forever,鈥� she said. 鈥淚 know nothing about [Guinea].鈥�
Her parents, fearing political persecution, escaped with her to the United States on a visitor visa in 1993. Now 29, Sally remembers the scar carved on her father鈥檚 stomach. 鈥淗e had political ties over there, and they came after my family,鈥� she said. 鈥淪omeone stabbed him.鈥澛�
Margarito Vel谩zquez Galicia had called Phoenix, Arizona, home for 14 years when his life was turned upside down.
It began on a January night in 2018 as he pedaled home on his bicycle after a long shift as a chef at a restaurant two blocks from his home. It was after midnight when a siren cut through the silence and the lights of a police car illuminated the street.
