One day in April, Diana Mogollón arrived at a place of which she knew almost nothing. She felt frustrated, sad, and did not want anyone to come near her to talk. At that point she was the newcomer among all the detained migrant women, until at night she saw a young woman come in, looking very young and quiet, with a protruding belly that her clothes could not hide. “She came in and sat to one side; the room was very full.” There were about 70 women inside, sleeping on mats with barely any space, under unsettling lights that stayed on 24 hours a day. Mogollón felt sorry for the young woman. “I told her: girl, if you want, sit on this side because they won’t trample you there.” They began to get to know each other, to tell each other their lives.

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