Updated Oct 23, 2025 • ~10 min read
SEB’S POV
The knock came at six AM.
Loud. Authoritative. The kind of knock that meant trouble.
I was already awake—had been all night, preparing for the immigration interview in three hours. Lina was asleep, finally, after being up with anxiety until four AM.
I opened the door to find three officers in ICE uniforms.
“Sebastian Santoro?” the one in front asked.
My mouth went dry. “Yes.”
“I’m Agent Wesley Parker with Immigration and Customs Enforcement. We have a warrant for your arrest.”
The world tilted.
“Arrest? For what?”
“Immigration fraud. Conspiracy to circumvent federal immigration law. Making false statements to a federal officer.” He pulled out handcuffs. “You have the right to remain silent—”
“Wait, wait. There’s been a mistake. I have an interview scheduled today. With Officer Rivers. We’re sorting this out—”
“The interview is cancelled. You’re being detained pending deportation proceedings.” He stepped forward. “Turn around, please.”
“I have a daughter. She’s in the NICU. She needs me—”
“Sir, don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”
Behind me, I heard Lina’s voice. “Seb? What’s going on?”
She appeared in the hallway, saw the officers, saw the handcuffs, and went white.
“No,” she said. “No, you can’t take him.”
“Ma’am, please step back.”
“He hasn’t done anything wrong! Our marriage is real. We have a daughter—”
“Mrs. Santoro, we’re aware of your situation. But your husband is being detained on suspicion of immigration fraud. If you interfere, we’ll arrest you for obstruction.”
“Let me call our lawyer,” I said quickly. “I have the right to legal representation—”
“You’ll be able to call from detention.” Agent Parker stepped closer. “Last chance. Turn around.”
I looked at Lina. Saw the terror in her eyes. The way her hand instinctively went to her stomach, even though Celeste was at the hospital, not inside her anymore.
“It’s going to be okay,” I told her. “Call Natalia. Tell her what happened. She’ll fix this.”
“Seb—”
“I love you. Tell Celeste I love her. I’ll be home soon.”
It was a lie. We both knew it.
I turned around. Let them cuff me. Let them read me my rights in my own apartment while my wife watched.
As they led me toward the door, Lina grabbed my arm.
“I’m not losing you,” she said fiercely. “Whatever it takes. I’m getting you back.”
“I know.” I kissed her forehead, the only part of her I could reach with my hands cuffed. “Take care of our daughter.”
Then they took me away.
LINA’S POV
I stood in the empty apartment for exactly thirty seconds after they left.
Then I fell apart.
Screaming. Sobbing. Throwing things. The kind of breakdown that comes when your entire world collapses in the space of five minutes.
They took him. They actually took him.
My phone was in my hand before I even realized I’d grabbed it.
“Natalia,” I said when she answered. “ICE arrested Seb. Just now. They’re taking him to detention.”
Silence. Then: “On what charges?”
“Immigration fraud. They said he lied during his interview. That our marriage was fake.”
“Where are they taking him?”
“I don’t know. They didn’t say. Natalia, what do we do?”
“First, breathe. You’re no good to him if you panic.” Papers rustled. “I’m calling the detention center now. Finding out where they’re holding him. Can you get to my office in an hour?”
“Yes. But what about Celeste? I was supposed to be at the hospital at eight for her morning feeding—”
“Call someone. Your friend Stella. Seb’s mother. Anyone who can sit with Celeste while we deal with this.”
“Okay. Okay, I can do that.”
“Lina.” Natalia’s voice softened. “We’re going to fight this. But you need to prepare yourself. If they’re detaining him, they’re serious about deportation. This isn’t just a scare tactic.”
“How long do we have?”
“Depends on the judge. Could be days. Could be weeks.”
“But he’ll come home, right? Eventually?”
Natalia didn’t answer right away.
“Right?” I repeated.
“I’m going to do everything I can. But Lina, you need to know—if they deport him, it could be years before he’s allowed back. If ever.”
The phone slipped from my hand.
Years. Or never.
I picked it up with shaking hands. “Then we’d better win.”
SEB’S POV
The detention center was exactly as depressing as I’d imagined.
Gray walls. Metal benches. People who looked as lost and scared as I felt.
They took my phone, my wallet, my wedding ring. Put me in a cell with three other men who barely looked at me.
“First time?” one of them asked in Spanish.
“Yeah.”
“You married to a citizen?”
“Yeah.”
“Kids?”
“A daughter. Three weeks old. Still in the NICU.”
He shook his head. “That’s rough, man. They don’t care about that stuff though. Baby, no baby—doesn’t matter. You broke the rules, you go home.”
“Home” being Italy. A place I hadn’t lived in years. A place that didn’t feel like home anymore.
Home was Lina. And Celeste. And the apartment with the sage green nursery. And arguing about throw pillows. And middle-of-the-night conversations about fears and hopes and everything in between.
Home was the life I’d built. The family I’d made.
And I was about to lose all of it.
A guard appeared at the cell door. “Santoro. You have a visitor.”
“Already?”
“Lawyer. You got five minutes.”
They led me to a small room with a table and two chairs. Natalia was already there, laptop open, looking ready for war.
“They’re fast-tracking your deportation,” she said without preamble. “Hearing is tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow? How is that even possible?”
“When they want you gone, they move fast. The judge is Harold Kingston. Notoriously tough on immigration cases.” She pulled up documents on her laptop. “We need to prove the marriage is real. That you didn’t lie during your interview. That you deserve to stay.”
“We already proved all that.”
“And now we have to prove it again. With that article floating around, with the timing of everything—Seb, the judge is going to be skeptical.”
“So what’s our strategy?”
“We bring witnesses. Lina testifies. We show photos, documents, evidence of your life together. We make them see that you’re not a criminal—you’re a father and a husband who made an unconventional choice that turned into real love.”
“Will it work?”
“I don’t know. But it’s all we have.”
LINA’S POV
Stella arrived at the hospital within twenty minutes of my call.
“Go,” she said, taking my place next to Celeste’s incubator. “I’ve got her. Do what you need to do.”
“Thank you. If she needs anything—”
“Lina, I’ve been coming here with you for weeks. I know the routine. Go get your husband.”
At Natalia’s office, I found organized chaos.
Isabella was there via video call from Italy. Declan had flown in overnight. Even Jasper had shown up, looking uncomfortable but determined.
“We’re all testifying,” Declan said. “Everyone who can vouch for you and Seb.”
“They’ll tear us apart,” I said. “Find inconsistencies. Question our motives.”
“Then we don’t give them any inconsistencies to find.” Natalia pulled up a timeline. “Lina, walk me through everything. First meeting to now. Every detail.”
So I did. For three hours, I relived our entire relationship. The coffee shop. The arrangement. The wedding. The moment it stopped being fake. The pregnancy. The custody battle. Celeste’s birth. All of it.
“The judge is going to focus on intent,” Natalia said. “At the time of the green card interview, was your marriage legitimate? Did you intend to stay together, or was it still an arrangement?”
“It was legitimate. We were in love.”
“Can you prove it?”
“I—” I stopped. Could I? “We lived together. Shared everything. We were building a life.”
“That’s circumstantial. We need something concrete. Something that shows the marriage was real before the interview.”
I thought back. To the months before the immigration interview.
And then I remembered.
“The letter,” I said.
“What letter?”
“Seb wrote me a letter. After the home study. About how he felt. About us being real.” I pulled out my phone, scrolling frantically. “I took a picture of it. Before he could throw it away. I thought… I don’t know what I thought. But I kept it.”
I found the photo. Seb’s handwriting. His words about loving me. About choosing our family. About this being real.
Dated three weeks before the immigration interview.
“This,” Natalia said, studying it. “This is exactly what we need.”
SEB’S POV
The deportation hearing the next morning felt surreal.
I sat at a table in an orange jumpsuit, handcuffed, while Judge Kingston reviewed my file. Lina sat behind me with Natalia. I could feel her presence like a lifeline.
“Mr. Santoro,” the judge began. “You’re here because Immigration and Customs Enforcement believes you committed fraud to obtain a green card. How do you plead?”
“Not guilty, Your Honor.”
“The evidence suggests otherwise. You married Mrs. Santoro three weeks after meeting her. She was already pregnant with another man’s child. You passed an immigration interview by claiming the marriage was legitimate when, in fact, it began as an arrangement for your benefit.”
“It began as an arrangement. But it became real. Before the interview. Before the baby was born. Before any of the complications.”
“How convenient. And yet, you never amended your application to reflect these… complications.”
“Because they weren’t relevant. My marriage to Lina is real. Our daughter might not be biologically mine, but she’s mine in every way that matters.”
“The biological father initially filed for custody. That suggests you were trying to claim a child that wasn’t yours to strengthen your immigration case.”
“No. That suggests a complicated situation that we navigated together. As a family.”
The prosecutor stood. “Your Honor, we have evidence that Mr. Santoro entered into a contract with Mrs. Santoro before their marriage. A contract that explicitly stated the marriage was for immigration purposes and would end after he received his green card.”
My heart stopped.
The contract. The one I’d burned. The one that should no longer exist.
“Where did you get that?” Natalia demanded.
“Anonymous tip. Along with this article detailing the entire scheme.” He held up a printout of the blog post. “Mr. Santoro and Mrs. Santoro defrauded the United States government. The evidence is clear.”
“The evidence is out of context,” Natalia countered. “Yes, there was an initial arrangement. But circumstances changed. People fell in love. That’s not fraud—that’s life.”
“Life doesn’t excuse breaking federal law.”
Judge Kingston held up a hand. “Mrs. Kingsley, do you have evidence that the marriage is legitimate?”
“I do, Your Honor.” Natalia pulled out the letter. “This was written by Mr. Santoro to his wife three weeks before their immigration interview. It clearly states his love for her. His commitment to their family. His belief that their marriage is real.”
The judge read it. His expression didn’t change.
“This proves affection. Not intent to remain married.”
“Then let me testify,” Lina said, standing up.
“Mrs. Santoro, this isn’t that kind of hearing—”
“Please.” Her voice cracked. “Let me tell you about my husband. About our family. About why deporting him would destroy everything.”
The judge looked at her for a long moment.
“You have five minutes,” he said.
And Lina began to speak.
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