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— "Let me show you our little facility," Méndez says, leading his guest back into the trailer. Two cribs, a rocking chair, and a changing table stocked with diapers and baby wipes occupy the room at the trailer's far east end. "This is our nursery for when we get the really young ones," he says. Today there are no occupants. Next to the nursery is a room with a couple of low couches and a TV showing cartoons. The seven girls occupy this room. A couple of cramped offices take up the middle section of the trailer. The far west end is furnished with two sets of wooden bunk beds on which lounge the nine boys who were repatriated earlier.

"How are you, jóvenes?" Méndez asks.

The boys respond with smiles and grunts.

"Where were you guys caught?" he asks.

"In hell," one of them answers, setting off a chain reaction of nervous laughter.

"In the mountains or the desert?" Méndez asks.

"Mountains," they all answer.

"How long were you walking?"

"Not long," says a 13-year-old on the bottom right bunk. "We were caught in less than an hour."

"Not us," says an older boy on the bunk above. "We were walking through hell for 15 hours."

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