Upon her arrival in the United States, Eduardo and Maritza had explained to her that it was shockingly easy to exist in a country that did not, at least on paper, want her there. Because the truth was that, in many ways, it did. It needed people like Luz. It depended on them to clean their buildings and tend to their babies and fix their homes. It did not want to extend to them their full humanity—that was clear. But as long as she didn’t open her mouth, ask for too much, or rock the boat, she could stay. As long as she could agree to exist only in a certain way. Like, half a person.
