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.
Justice Served
Five months after our exile, I woke up to my phone buzzing with text messages. The first one was from Rodrigo saying it was happening. I didn’t understand what he meant until I opened the next message. FBI agents were raiding the founding family’s homes right now. Someone in the exile community had a police scanner and was listening to the chatter.
I jumped out of bed and ran to tell my parents. My father was already awake, watching the news on his laptop. The local station had a reporter outside one of the founding family houses showing FBI agents leading someone out in handcuffs.
My mother came into the room and gasped. The news anchor said federal agents were executing arrest warrants for five people on charges including racketeering, fraud, theft, and manslaughter. My father turned up the volume. The reporter said the arrests were connected to a systematic scheme involving property seizure and civil rights violations.
My phone kept buzzing with messages from people in the exile community. Eli sent a message saying everyone should meet at the community center. My mother was crying, but this time it looked different, like relief mixed with disbelief. We got dressed quickly and drove to the community center.
The parking lot was already full, and people were gathering inside. Everyone was talking at once, pulling up news articles on their phones and showing each other. Wallace stood near the front looking stunned. Rosa was there with Sebastian, who must have driven down after the arrests happened.
Eli called for everyone’s attention.
“This was the moment we’d been working toward for years,” he said. “The founding families were finally facing consequences for what they’d done.”
The room erupted in applause, and some people were crying. Eli reminded us that this was just the beginning, that the legal process would take time and we needed to stay strong.
Sebastian stood up and confirmed that all five founding family leaders were in federal custody. He said the evidence was overwhelming and the prosecutors were confident about the case. People started asking questions about what happened next, and Sebastian explained about arraignments and bail hearings and trial dates. I looked around the room at all these families who’d lost everything and fought back. It felt surreal that we’d actually done it.
The Public Eye
Within an hour, the local news station was calling the exile community asking for interviews. Eli’s phone wouldn’t stop ringing. He gathered a small group including Rosa, Wallace, and a few other community leaders to discuss how to handle media requests. I sat in the back of the room listening.
Rosa said we needed to control our own narrative instead of letting the founding family’s lawyers spin the story. Eli agreed and said we should be selective about who we talk to. Someone suggested we only speak to reporters who seemed genuinely interested in understanding what happened, not just looking for sensational headlines.
Wallace said he wanted to talk about his wife, that people needed to know the exile system killed her. Rosa nodded and said personal stories would be powerful.
Eli looked around the room and his eyes landed on me. He asked if I would be willing to do an interview. My stomach dropped. He said my story about noticing the founding family pattern as a teenager would resonate with people. I looked at my parents, and my father nodded slightly. Thea squeezed my hand.
I told Eli I would think about it.
After the meeting broke up, I talked with my parents and Thea about whether I should do the interview. My mother said it was my choice but she thought it could help people understand what we went through. Thea said I should do it if I felt comfortable, that my perspective mattered. I spent the rest of the day thinking about it. That night, I texted Eli and said I would do the interview.
