My Town Exiles One Family Every Year To Stay “Perfect.” My Father Just Got A Promotion, And Now We Are Standing At The Border With Nothing. But Someone Is Waiting For Us In The Dark.

The Arrests

The week after my deposition, Rosa started organizing workshops at the community center about what to expect when the arrests happened. She stood at the front of the room with printed handouts about managing anxiety and dealing with reporters. About 30 people showed up, mostly parents who looked nervous and excited at the same time.

Rosa explained that when the FBI moved forward, there would be media attention, and everyone needed to prepare for how that might feel. She talked about trauma triggers and how seeing the founding families on TV might bring up hard memories. My mother sat next to me taking notes like this was a college class.

Rosa said we should decide now whether we wanted to talk to reporters or stay private, that both choices were valid. She handed out a sheet with tips for handling interview questions if we chose to speak publicly.

Van raised his hand and asked what would happen to the founding family’s properties and businesses once they were arrested. Rosa said the legal process would determine that, but restitution for stolen assets was part of the federal case. People started asking questions all at once about timelines and court dates and whether we’d have to testify again. Rosa held up her hands and said the FBI would contact people individually as needed.

After the workshop ended, my mother stayed to talk with Rosa about my sister. I heard her ask whether she should tell my sister about the arrests before they happened or wait until after. Rosa suggested preparing my sister gently so the news wouldn’t be a complete shock. My mother nodded but looked worried.

Three days later, my mother drove to the facility to visit my sister. I offered to come along, but my mother said she needed to do this alone. She left early in the morning and didn’t come back until dinnertime. When she walked through the door, her eyes were red and swollen. My father asked what happened, and my mother just shook her head. She sat at the kitchen table and stared at her hands. I got her a glass of water and waited.

Eventually, she said my sister had a panic attack when she heard about the arrests. My mother explained that my sister started hyperventilating and saying the founding families would find a way to hurt us even from prison. The therapist had to come in and give my sister medication to calm her down. My mother kept apologizing to the therapist, saying she shouldn’t have brought it up. The therapist told her it wasn’t her fault, that my sister needed to process this information eventually.

My mother cried the whole drive home. She looked at me across the table and said she felt like she kept making things worse for my sister. My father reached over and took her hand but didn’t say anything.

That evening, Rosa stopped by to check on my mother. She sat with her for over an hour talking quietly. I heard Rosa say that healing wasn’t a straight line, that my sister would have setbacks and breakthroughs and more setbacks. Rosa said the important thing was that we kept showing up for my sister even when it was hard. My mother thanked her, and Rosa hugged her before leaving.

Looking Back

The next afternoon, Thea came over and asked if I wanted to go for a walk. We headed down the main street of the exile town, past the community center and the small library someone had organized in the converted garage. Thea was quiet for a while before she asked what I thought would happen after the arrests. I said I didn’t know, that everything felt uncertain.

She stopped walking and turned to face me. She asked if I would ever want to go back to the old town if we had the chance. The question caught me off guard. I thought about our old house and my old school and the streets I grew up on. Then I thought about neighbors watching from windows while we packed trash bags and my girlfriend refusing to look at me.

I told Thea I didn’t think I could go back there. She nodded and said she felt the same way. She said the old town threw us away like we were garbage, and she would never forgive that. I understood what she meant. The exile community felt more like home than the old town ever did because people here actually helped each other.

Thea took my hand and said this place was ours in a way the old town never was. We built it together from nothing, and nobody could take that away from us. I squeezed her hand and we kept walking. She started talking about maybe going to community college together next year if we could afford it. I said that sounded good.

We walked all the way to the edge of town where new houses were still being built. Thea said the exile community kept growing and getting stronger while the old town rotted from corruption. I realized she was right. Getting exiled felt like the end of everything, but maybe it actually saved us from becoming like the people who stayed.