Ana was on her side, under her comforter, staring at the clock. The number readout showed 12;54, it was almost one o’clock. When the clock struck one she could relax and sleep, before then she knew her night might not be over. The last time had been a week and a half ago, and it had gotten more intense and she could not help but wonder where things would go. Ana took in another deep breathe and the clock face flapped down to show 12:;55. She never wore pajamas anymore, not after the last pair got torn. She didn’t know what kind of story she would tell her mom if she ruin another pair. So she just crinkled them up in the morning on the floor. She slept now in lose sweat shorts and a loose oversized t-shirt. It was all loose, plenty of give, so it could be pulled, twisted and moved, she still couldn’t anticipate what was coming, she was raised too naïve. She remembered how it all started, and it was hard to believe that was almost 6 months ago. It seemed like so much had happened. Ana’s mom Adrianna had been from a poor family in Mexico. She got knocked at 17 and slipped across the border to have her baby. She had holed up with a group of undocumented aliens in Arizona. Adrianna had gotten work as a maid and worked multiple hotels to make enough money to try to give her daughter a better life. Then she had met Dan. Dan was the owner of a small company that supplied labor for cleaning positions at local hotels. His company took the risk of the undocumented workers and therefore …