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I was as well versed in the intricacies of immigration law as a three year old – it was something I’d never had to think about. Not until I endorsed Mia’s visa all those years ago.
“I wish I could explain,” she said, her voice weak. “There’s been an error at the embassy and all I’ve been told is that I need to go back to Brazil and start the process over again.”
I set the letter on her desk with a disbelieving sigh. “That could take years…”
“Which is why I’m handing in my resignation,” she began, lacing her fingers nervously. She stared at the ground before lifting her eyes to meet mine. “There’s no way I could work remotely; we don’t know how long it’ll take or if my application will even be successful at this point.”
“Mia, I’m not replacing you,” I told her, my voice empty of all emotion. There was no way I could even contemplate running things without her.
“Reid, you need to have someone manage the smaller tasks,” she argued. “It’d take up way too much of your time and I know you well enough to know you’d end up sleeping at the office.”
“It’d just be until you get back.” I shrugged, feeling just a little defensive because she’d nailed me with that one.
“Please be serious,” she whined, the strain in her voice killing any amusement I might have had.
I reached forward and squeezed her wrist, my stomach tight with unease. “I am,” I swore. “This isn’t something we can make hard and fast decisions about, though. You didn’t honestly think I was going to accept this without digging into it myself, did you?”
Mia buried her face in her hands, and I stared at her for a moment. She’d changed so much since the day she first set foot in the building. Her dark curls brushed her lower back where they’d once barely touched her shoulders. She wore her clothes, rather than drowning in them as she had, but it was her face that had changed the most.
Six years ago, she’d worn her past like a mask; her keen eyes saw everything, but they were so tired. Her cheeks pulled into automatic, empty smiles at the drop of a hat, so much so that I still remember the rush of elation I’d felt when shefinallysmiled at me for real.
“Mia,” I called, waiting until she lifted her head to look at me. “If you think this isn’t my problem, I want to remind you that it was my signature and my company that backed your visa. If there’s been an error, I should have been informed ages ago.”
“You have enough going on, Reid.”
“And I’ll get this done, too,” I countered.
“It’s a waste of time! Immigrations isn’t going to let this go just because you asked them nicely.”
“I don’t plan on asking nicely,” I answered with a wink.
“Is this everything?” I asked, shuffling through the pack I’d been given.
“Yes, Ms. Voss.”
“All right, let’s get started then.”
I leaned back in my seat, looking at the team of lawyers assembled before me. The head of my legal team, Warren, sat on the opposite end of the conference table, his small team sitting around him in silence.
Warren had been handling all of DawnStar’s legalities for the last five years after taking his late father’s position. He’d won every case set in front of him, and he’d found every loophole left unchecked since.
With a small sense of anxiety, I realized that if Warren hadn’t found a loophole, there was likely nothing that could be done.
“We’ve gone through extensive documentation on the various processes around visa law and deportation,” Warren began, holding an expectant hand out toward his young assistant. The assistant placed a sheet in his hand and immediately stepped back. “Every inch of the initial process was completed by the book, and there were no discrepancies found.”
“Wonderful,” I muttered, the knot in my stomach awaiting the ‘but’ that seemed poised to leap off his tongue.
He cleared his throat and adjusted his perfect tie. “I have no evidence of the error they’ve claimed to have found, however, this may be something as simple as an administration or filing error. As such, it’s likely that their decision cannot be overturned.”
I blinked, my brows furrowed.
“In other words,” I drawled. “Something as insignificant as afilingerror can be used as legal cause to revoke a six-year-old visa?”
“As unrealistic as it sounds,” he shrugged, “there have been many cases where deportation has been declared for far less.”
“Okay, listen.” I sighed, doing my best to haul my patience out of nothing. “I’m not interested in the minutiae of deportation. All I’m interested in is what I can do to ensure Mia stayshere.”
The ensuing silence was too loud.
