Chapter 3

The line moved forward a step.

My turn.

Over three years, I'd gone from sounding out street signs to filling in government forms. Free apps, secondhand textbooks from the Brockenhaus, and every spare hour I had. For three years Alistair had handled every piece of paperwork, every phone call, every official letter. I'd trusted him with all of it.

Not anymore. This time, I would go myself.

I handed over my passport.

The woman behind the counter typed a few keystrokes and frowned.

"Es tut mir leid, mit diesem Dokument kann ich kein Ticket ausstellen."

I understood every word now. I'm sorry, I cannot issue a ticket with this document.

"Why not?"

She switched to English, slowly. "Your residence status shows as irregular. You have overstayed your permitted period."

I blinked. "Overstayed?"

"Your last permit extension was never approved." She looked at me. "There is no valid authorization on file."

I stood at the counter. Said nothing.

Three years.

I'd been in this country for three years and I didn't even have valid papers?

"So what do I do?"

"You will need to contact the cantonal migration office. Pay the penalties, get your status cleared, and then you can travel." She slid my passport back.

"Nächster, bitte."

I stepped aside.

The person behind me pressed forward and the counter disappeared behind them.

I stood there, staring at the passport in my hands.

I wasn't even here legally.

Then what were the last three years?

Outside the terminal, I called my immigration consultant.

"Linda, I need to ask you something. My permit extension keeps getting denied and now I'm looking at a huge fine. What's going on with my case?"

Linda Wyss was as upbeat as ever. "Mrs. Vance, that doesn't make any sense. Your husband is a professor at ETH. Family reunification through his B permit should be completely straightforward. Did he file the sponsorship documents?"

"He did."

"Then there shouldn't be an issue..." She paused. "Hang on, let me pull up your file."

Silence on the other end.

When she came back, her voice was lower. "Mrs. Vance, let me ask you something. When your husband filed for your permit, did he go through the spousal reunification route?"

I held the phone. Didn't answer.

"What I'm seeing in the system..." She chose her words carefully. "The spousal dependent slot linked to your husband's B permit was approved for a woman named Reed."

"He did submit something on your behalf, but not through the spouse category. It was filed under a different channel."

"That channel was discontinued about a year ago. That's why your extensions have been stuck ever since."

I paused. "Got it. Thank you, Linda."

I hung up.

Stood there, remembering.

Three years ago, right after we arrived in Zurich, Alistair said he'd handle all the immigration paperwork. He took my documents and I handed them over without a second thought.

Later he told me everything was taken care of. I never followed up.

Turns out what I thought was following the man I loved to a new life was actually becoming an illegal overstayer.

I stood on the sidewalk for a long time.

I went to every office I could find. Tried every option.

In the end there was only one way out.

Alistair, as my original sponsor, had to submit a sworn statement to the cantonal migration office. Confirming that he had failed to notify me of changes in my permit status, and that my overstay was not willful.

Then I could pay the fines, apply for a short-term visa, and leave the country legally.

Simple.

All he had to do was sign.

But how was I supposed to ask him?

Walk up and say, "Since you gave the spousal slot to someone else, could you at least sign a piece of paper so I can leave?"

And if I did, wouldn't the bill for the last three years come due with it?