After pouring us each a cup of coffee, he sits across from me and takes a bite.
“Marissa called. Her lawyer friend, Samantha, was quite sympathetic to your situation. She’s moved on to corporate law now but interned at an immigration firm. The two of them should be here in about an hour.”
“Here? An hour?” My hand flies to my hair, which I haven’t even brushed yet.
“You look fine, but you have plenty of time to eat and get ready.”
Even though my mind is whirling with worry, it would be hard not to notice the look in Lash’s eyes. It’s full of affection.
One thing at a time, Zoya. You have no business getting a crush on someone when you’re legally bound to marry another man—and facing deportation to a place thousands of miles away.
An hour later, the four of us are sitting in the living room, introductions have been made, and Samantha, a happy blonde with an easy smile, is gripping a legal pad. As she begins asking me questions, her demeanor becomes all business.
Chapter Eleven
Lash
“Marissa filled me in on your situation, Zoya. I know this must be incredibly difficult for you. But I want you to know that you have options and we’re going to do everything we can to help you.”
Maybe it’s forward of me to reach out and grab Zoya’s ice-cold hand to comfort her. When she returns my gentle squeeze, I assume she’s happy I’m here to support her.
Samantha continues, “There’s a law called the Violence Against Women Act, or VAWA. It protects immigrant women who are victims of domestic violence. It allows them to petition for legal status without relying on their abuser.”
A flicker of hope sparks in my chest and I can feel Zoya sit up straighter as she eagerly asks, “So I could apply for that?”
“Yes, but I’ll be upfront with you. The process is long and complicated. We’d need to gather a lot of evidence—police reports, medical records, witness statements. And even then, it could take months or even years for your case to be approved.”
My hope fizzles as quickly as it ignited.
“Years?” Zoya echoes weakly as I wonder if she’ll be behind bars in some prison holding facility while she waits.
Samantha gives her a sympathetic look. “I know it’s not what you want to hear. But VAWA is still your best option for gaining legal status on your own, without Max’s involvement.”
Zoya slumps against me, her breathy sigh filled with defeat.
“So… months, oryears,of constantly looking over shoulder, terrified Max vill find me. No guarantee I’ll be able to stay.” Her rising anxiety makes her accent more prominent.
I grip Zoya’s hand tighter and lean toward Samantha. “No other options? Is there anything else Zoya can do to get legal status faster?”
Samantha taps her pen against her lips, thinking. “Well, the quickest path to a green card is usually through marriage to a U.S. citizen or permanent resident.”
Zoya laughs humorlessly. “Great, so my choice is either marry my abusive fiancé or wait years for my case tomaybeget approved?”
Samantha seems deep in thought, her pen tapping more quickly against her downturned lips.
“Normally, you can only marry the person on your original K-1 application, but…”
Another long pause that seems to aggravate all of us, even Marissa, as Samantha thinks things through, then scrolls through her phone, perhaps looking something up.
“There’s a bit of case law. It’s obscure and is the only precedent for this, but if someone else petitioned to marry you, went through the vetting process, and was approved, and if domestic violence by Max was proven, you could be allowed to go through a new K-1 process. Proving, of course, that you have a true relationship and it isn’t just a ploy to get a green card. And, of course…” Her gaze is so bold it spears right through me, “You’d need someone willing to do such a thing.”
I ask a few more questions, my excitement growing as all of Samantha’s answers add up to the distinct possibility that I could do this for Zoya. I could become her fiancé and keep her in the United States legally. It will allow me to keep her safe.
“I’ll do it. Let me be your fiancé, Zoya.”
Chapter Twelve
Zoya