They took my wife away in a single morning. Now I'll move heaven and earth to bring her back. I was just a mechanic in Miami, a husband making school lunches and kissing scraped knees, measuring love in peanut-butter sandwiches and bedtime stories. One ICE call later, my wife vanished into a system that treated her like a case number instead of the center of our world, leaving me with two terrified kids and a home that suddenly felt like a crime scene. Now every day is a fight. Against officers who speak in procedures instead of answers. Against lawyers' deadlines and government silence. Against my own fear that love won't be enough to drag her back across that line. They think we'll get tired. That we'll stop calling, stop filing, stop hoping. They don't understand what a man becomes when the only way to hold his family together...is to go to war with a system that has already decided to tear them apart.