January will mark one year since Isaac and his mother, Jeny, illegally crossed the US-Mexican Border. They were quickly separated after asking for asylum and placed in a detention center in Arizona. Being incarcerated for just a few months took a toll on Jeny, she agreed to deportation while Isaac was placed on an airline to O’Hare where his uncle and a new life waited for him.

Isaac is among the thousands of migrant children affected by Donald Trump’s short-lived “Zero Tolerance” immigration policy; and among 200 cases where parents agreed to deportation in hope that their children can seek a better life on their own, according to the ACLU.

Isaac would spend a year struggling to adapt to his new life away from his mother. He often found an escape by playing his favorite game, Fortnite--where players are free to roam an open world and survive with the equipment they are provided. When his mother can afford to pay for video calls from 2,000 miles away, Isaac curls into a small position on the floor as he talks to his mother.

“Hi, my love!" She says in Spanish, "What are you doing?”

“Nothing.” He replies, minimizing her video call to make room for the game.“I miss you. My baby boy—“

“I’m not a baby anymore, I’m grown now,” he responded.

Their interactions are always as quick and one-worded. For Isaac, it’s difficult to talk his to mother over the phone because he never was too far away from her prior to the separation.

As the months passed, however, his longing for her had worsened. His calls were becoming frequent, his cries louder. She knew something was terribly wrong. Knowing she had to try and cross the border again to be there for her son.

Isaac told her how much he hated the distance and the life that he lived in the United States.

Heartbroken she began to save for another trip.

One year later, Jeny and her daughter Ashly crossed the US-Mexico Border, she turned herself in and asked for asylum, knowing that his time would be different than last years’. But ICE officials would again detain her and her daughter. They took everything from them, leaving her with two overstuffed bags, donated clothes baggy enough to hide a GPS ankle bracelet, and a one-way ticket to the Midwest.

The promise to cradle Isaac to sleep and fill the empty weight she had felt on her arm, was what kept her going she says. The four-day journey across the United States would be with challenges.

She struggles to ask for directions when transferring buses because of the language barrier, Jeny's only form of help where other Spanish speakers and a slip that read, “I don’t know English and this is my first time traveling in the US. Can you help me?” provided by Greyhound employees.

Isaac was kept away from these details. He knew that a surprise was coming, but didn’t expect it would be his own family. When they arrived at a Greyhound station somewhere in the Midwest, Jeny waited in the station's general area. While Ashly paced nervously around her mother. Ten minutes later she jumped to hug two of Isaac's cousins. While one of his relatives said, "Surprise!"

Isaac stood in disbelief. Whispering the shock to himself before gently walking up to his mother.

These collections of images pick up after the headlines of caravans at the US-Mexican border have dissipated. A look into how millions in the Midwest and Texas undertake laborious efforts to maintain a sense of belonging when systems fail in the United States. Each image was carefully selected and published at ProPublica, The Washington Post, Reuters, and personal projects.