It was the day after Jocelyn Nungaray’s funeral in June when her mother, Alexis, heard the voicemail. 

“Oh my God. Oh my God,” Alexis said to her friend, sitting on the couch in her friend’s living room. “Am I listening to this right?” 

She put the message on speaker. They both immediately recognized the voice of Donald Trump.

“I’m just calling to give my warmest regards to you and your family,” the former president said in the voicemail. “You just do the best you can. It’s a horrible thing. This should have never happened.”

Alexis turned to her friend. “What do I do?”

“Well, don’t miss his call next time,” she responded. 

For the next few days, Alexis checked her phone constantly. 

The call was just 10 days after 12-year-old Jocelyn Nungaray’s body was found tied up in a north Houston creek near Rankin and Kuykendahl, not far from where the family lived, shattering Alexis’ life. Alexis describes the days immediately following Jocelyn’s death as a fog. That voicemail from the former president cut through it, and made her realize how far her daughter’s death had reverberated. 

“It’s very heartwarming for me to know someone of such high status cares,” Alexis said in Houston recently. “When Trump reached out to me, he reached out to me as a father.”

When she should have been preparing her daughter for seventh grade, Alexis was instead catapulted to the national spotlight. The 28-year-old proud Latina became an unlikely anti-immigration crusader in the campaigns of Trump and Texas Republican Sen. Ted Cruz. She traveled to Trump campaign events in Austin and the Arizona border to share her daughter’s story. 

On Texas Gov. Greg Abbott’s Instagram page, Alexis is seen hugging the Republican governor, her arm bearing elaborate tattoos and her hair dyed blue at the tips.

She holds in her tears during public appearances, fearing her emotions would take away from her daughter’s story. 

“It’s probably a defense mechanism for myself, but when I cry or when my eyes water, and I break down a little bit, I get a numbness. That just kind of overtakes me.”

Central to her message is the immigration status of the two Venezuelan men charged with capital murder, sexual assault and kidnapping in Jocelyn’s case. Johan Jose Martinez Rangel, 22, and Franklin Jose Peña Ramos, 26, were released from Border Patrol custody earlier this year with pending immigration court hearings.

Surveillance video shows the two men speaking with Jocelyn outside a 7-Eleven near where the family lived. They then walked in the direction of the creek where Jocelyn’s body was found. Peña Ramos later told police that Martinez Rangel held Jocelyn down and sexually assaulted her, then strangled her, according to court documents. Martinez Rangel blamed Peña Ramos but later admitted to tying Jocelyn up.

Trump, Cruz and many in the Republican party singled out Jocelyn’s murder at campaign rallies and in political advertisements as a failure of the Biden-Harris Administration’s border policy. Cruz and Trump cited Jocelyn’s death to support mass deportations. 

For years, the number of immigrants entering the country has surpassed the capacity in Immigration and Customs Enforcement custody, making the release of some migrants with pending asylum claims commonplace. It happened during previous administrations, as well, including Trump’s. Immigrants with a criminal history commonly are prioritized for detention. It is unclear, however, whether Rangel and Ramos have prior criminal histories. 

Cruz and Trump both opposed a bipartisan border security bill earlier this year, because Republicans wanted to use immigration as a cornerstone of their campaigns. The bill would have mandated detention for asylum seekers and required cases to be resolved within 90 days. 

Their campaign ads featuring Alexis filled the airwaves leading up the election, drowning out Vice President Kamala Harris, Colin Allred and other Democrats’ attempts to shift the blame to Republicans for killing the bipartisan border bill. 

“I take offense at what Ted Cruz is doing, which is using a tragedy for his political gain when he has been a part of stopping us from solving this problem,” Allred told KHOU-11 in September. 

He declined to comment further.

Alexis says she supports immigrants’ right to search for a better life but believes they should follow legal processes and undergo proper vetting. Growing up in Houston, Alexis mostly saw hardworking immigrants striving for a better life and believed in second chances.

She admits she would not have voted in this election if Jocelyn’s murder hadn’t jolted her into action. And she resents anyone who says she has become a political pawn.

“If you would read between the lines, you would see what I’m fighting for. It’s simply justice for my daughter,” she said.

On Election Night, the day after her 28th birthday, Alexis sat in the VIP section of Cruz’s watch party at the Marriott Marquis in downtown Houston. She was invited to Mar-a-Lago for the Trump party, but opted to stay close to home so she could wake up early the next morning and take her 6-year-old son, Elias, to school.

Her anxiety eased as she watched Cruz win his reelection and Trump take the lead in every battleground state. People in the crowd started chanting “build the wall” after Cruz brought her on stage during his victory speech.

“It made me feel like all the work I had been doing, all the interviews, all the ads, all the speaking, was for a reason. It was being rewarded,” Alexis said.

After Trump’s victory and as the focus turns to his administration, Alexis fears the memory of her daughter will go with it.

“If it does quiet down, part of me will be a little sad, because a piece of me will feel like she’s getting forgotten,” Alexis said. “I don’t want her to be forgotten.”

‘I’ve always fought for her’

Alexis was just 14 when she found out she was pregnant with Jocelyn.

Her mother pressured her to get an abortion. After Alexis resisted, her mother drove her to an adoption agency and surprised her with binders of couples interested in adopting her baby. Alexis again refused.

“I’ve always fought for her, even when she was a baby,” Alexis said. 

Before becoming pregnant, Alexis was a self-described “problem child,” drinking and sneaking out, sometimes walking long distances at night in Houston without a thought for her safety. That — and her childhood — ended abruptly when she committed herself to caring for Jocelyn, Alexis said. 

“I was a kid learning how not to be a kid anymore.” 

Alexis took cosmetology classes throughout high school, completing the state board exam her senior year so she could get a job as soon as she graduated. Alexis studied for exams while Jocelyn played quietly in their shared bedroom. 

Jocelyn was a chubby baby with “rolls on her rolls,” Alexis said. As she grew into a toddler, Jocelyn became a “girly girl” who loved to play dress up, put on lip gloss and ask her mother to do her hair to complete each outfit. Her favorite hairstyle was the side braid Elsa wore in her favorite movie “Frozen.”

Jocelyn was 6 when Alexis found out she was pregnant again. Jocelyn popped the gender reveal balloon to discover she would have a brother. After Elias was born, Jocelyn was a great help with her baby brother, holding and playing with him. Elias eventually turned into the annoying younger brother as they grew older and Jocelyn entered a turbulent period for kids and parents alike: puberty. 

“She just turned into this different person,” Alexis said.

Forever 12

Jocelyn’s preteen bedroom is frozen in time in a storage unit in Spring, just outside of Houston. When her lease ended in August, Alexis recreated Jocelyn’s bedroom to keep her memory alive. 

There are no signs of the girly dress-up outfits from Jocelyn’s youth. Red, high-top Converse sneakers sit together on the concrete floor by Jocelyn’s cluttered desk, and baggy, grunge clothing is stored in boxes and a dresser in the corner. Posters for Arctic Monkeys and Lana Del Rey hang on the metal walls above Jocelyn’s bed. The electric guitar Jocelyn had begged her mom to buy, yet never learned to play, is a reminder to Alexis of her daughter’s unfulfilled potential.

Jocelyn loved music, and her most treasured possession was her record player because she swore the music quality was better than listening on her phone. 

“She was an old soul,” Alexis said. 

The last Lana Del Rey record she listened to still sits on the turntable.

Jocelyn wanted to be an actress when she grew up, often filming skits with her friends that Alexis now watches as brief glimpses into her life. She had a small following on TikTok, where she would edit and post montages of her favorite celebrities. 

Jocelyn loved meeting her best friend, Kyleigh, at the mall to get her favorite sugar cookie and having sleepovers where they would stay up late watching movies or baking. Kyleigh’s mother, Acacia Porter, remembered always hearing the girls’ giggles travel through the walls. 

“Between all the friends that Kyleigh’s ever had, Jocelyn was like a sister,” Porter said. “The laughter that they had, Kyleigh’s never had that with any other friend.”

Jocelyn also had a growing rebellious streak. Jocelyn was suspended for three days for bringing a vape to school. Alexis caught her smoking a cigarette once. While moving Jocelyn’s things to the storage unit, Alexis found two vapes hidden in drawers in her room. 

And, Alexis later would learn, Jocelyn frequently snuck out at night, just like she did. 

“I’m a teen mom, so I can understand kids, and us wanting to do things and thinking we’re invincible,” Alexis said. “And when your mom says ‘no,’ it makes you want to do it even more.”

Alexis also discovered body jewelry, piercing needles, alcohol wipes and clamping tongs, enough piercing supplies hidden in Jocelyn’s desk to “really do a number on herself.”

Alexis said she never would have allowed Jocelyn to give herself a body piercing, but she was secretly impressed by how brave her daughter was. 

“I don’t like shots, so that just showed me more of her boldness,” she said “She had no fear.”

Alexis had struggled to understand Jocelyn during this period, until the day she was awakened by police at her door.

It was the day before Valentine’s Day earlier this year, and Jocelyn had again snuck out in the middle of the night. The day before, Jocelyn stayed home from school because she was vomiting. 

She walked to Kyleigh’s house. Kyleigh’s father is a police officer, so he called officers working the night shift to take Jocelyn home. Jocelyn told the officers that the day before, she had taken 15 Midol pain pills from a basket of period supplies Alexis had put together after Jocelyn started her period.  

Alexis was shocked. She had no idea her daughter was struggling with severe depression and anxiety. 

She climbed into the backseat of the police car with her daughter to talk. Jocelyn was crying, scared she was in trouble. Alexis told Jocelyn she was just glad she was safe and hugged her.

“I don’t want anything to happen to you,” Alexis told her. “I don’t know what I would do if I didn’t have you here.”

Jocelyn briefly was admitted to an in-patient psychiatric hospital in Kingwood following the Midol overdose. After she was discharged from the hospital, she and Alexis settled into an uneasy routine of awkward conversations. 

“I’m constantly checking on her like ‘Hey… how ya doing?’ or ‘Whatcha doing?’ Alexis recalled. “And now I’m worried about her because she did that without me knowing anything was wrong.”

In mid-April, Jocelyn was readmitted to the hospital for 10 days. 

The second stint seemed to help, and Jocelyn began seeing a therapist and a psychiatrist. Alexis said she could tell Jocelyn was doing better because some of her boldness had returned.

Jocelyn often would spend days at Alexis’ grandmother’s house, where she took advantage of her mother not being there. When Alexis discovered her daughter’s half-red hair from a botched dye-job, she could only sigh and offer to take Jocelyn to the salon to get it fixed. 

Alexis feared “pushing her over the edge” if she disciplined her too much.

“I just tried to find anything to make her feel safe, or to make me feel safe at night to know I could sleep peacefully at night and nothing was going to happen to her,” Alexis said. 

Jocelyn sometimes confided in her best friend, but often would “hide her sadness with a lot of happiness,” Kyleigh recalled. 

“Anytime me and her are venting, she would make a joke and make both of us laugh, so it’s not just all sad,” she said. 

In June, the school called Alexis in for a meeting where she was told Jocelyn would have to repeat the sixth grade because she had missed too many days. Alexis explained that the absences were excused for her mental health, and that she had filled out the necessary paperwork. They wouldn’t budge. 

So, Alexis went to the school board, which decided Jocelyn could make up the hours in summer school. 

“They thought she was gonna be another kid that failed in the system,” Alexis said. “I wasn’t going to allow that.” 

Alexis said Jocelyn gave her a big hug when she told her the school board’s decision. Later, Jocelyn’s therapist told Alexis that Jocelyn called her mom her best friend and was proud of her.

Losing Jocelyn

On the morning of June 17, Alexis awoke to find Jocelyn missing. She quickly called into work to tell her boss she would not be coming in, that she had to find her daughter.

Alexis drove toward a nearby skate park that showed Jocelyn’s last location, according to a family location-sharing app Alexis had installed on her phone. But she couldn’t make it past the Houston Police cars.

An officer from the homicide division soon called her down to the station. 

A girl’s body had been found, the officer told her. It looked like a possible homicide, he said. It might be Jocelyn.

Alexis refused to believe it.

“She’s missing, she’s missing,” she told herself. She continued her search.  

By Wednesday, dental records confirmed it was Jocelyn. 

Alexis struggled to comprehend why someone would harm her gentle daughter, who loved animals and recently had guilted her mother into adopting a cat named Caché. She tried not to think about her daughter’s last moments. 

“I wonder how much fear she had that night, knowing she was always fearless,” Alexis said. “I may never get those answers.”

Alexis gave her first interview to local news media that day outside the 7-Eleven, where Jocelyn was last seen. Visibly distraught as she spoke to the camera, her face bare of any makeup and her hair messily pulled back into a low bun, Alexis shared the pain of never seeing her daughter grow up and called for the killers to turn themselves in.

She had agreed to one interview, but was surprised when more reporters jumped out of their cars and swarmed around her. The feeling of all eyes on her has become more familiar, but no less nerve-wracking. 

The next day, as Alexis made calls canceling Jocelyn’s dentist appointment and telling her teachers her daughter would not be finishing summer school, Rangel Martinez and Peña Ramos were arrested and charged with capital murder.

By then, the case was gaining so much attention that Alexis realized she couldn’t wait much longer to tell Elias his sister was not just missing. Worried he would find out from TV or from a friend at school, she enlisted his Sunday school teacher to go with them to the park that Friday.

Alexis couldn’t bear to break the news, so his Sunday school teacher was the one who told him Jocelyn was not coming back. His sister was now in heaven, a place where she was happy and felt no pain. 

“Why did she have to die?” Elias asked. 

Alexis was still trying to make sense of her daughter’s murder and why someone made her “forever 12.” Now, she had to put it into words a 5-year-old could understand.

“Well, baby, there’s some really good people in this world that are really sweet and really nice to people,” Alexis told Elias. “But there are some really, really bad people in this world who are really mean and doing very ugly things.

“There were some mean people that really hurt your sister.”

He seemed to understand. Alexis told him Jocelyn would always be with them and watch over them. 

“She’s going to make sure nothing bad happens to you or to me,” she said. 

It was one of the first times Alexis had to articulate the story of Jocelyn’s death, trying to make sense of a senseless act. Soon, she would be telling it to a much larger audience.

“The more I do this, it gives me more understanding as to why it had to be her,” Alexis said. “Maybe it was my voice that people were going to listen to.”

Immigration and crime

That same day, reports surfaced that Rangel Martinez and Peña Ramos had entered the country illegally. 

“So, they aren’t even supposed to be here? Are you serious?” Alexis recalled thinking. “I was like, ‘Dude, what the hell?’”

State and national Republican leaders had the same reaction.

Trump and other Republican politicians already were focusing on immigrant crime in the lead-up to elections, including the February 2024 killing of 22-year-old nursing student Laken Riley in Georgia and the August 2023 killing of 37-year-old Rachel Morin while jogging in Maryland. A Venezuelan man was found guilty of felony murder of Riley, and nine other counts. A Salvadoran man faces murder, rape and kidnapping charges in Morin’s case. 

Republicans were not alone.

Harris County District Attorney Kim Ogg, a Democrat, blamed a broken immigration system for Jocelyn’s death and called the suspects monsters.

Politicians have long linked immigration to crime, going back to at least the 1880s, when Congress passed a law to prevent Chinese migration. The data does not back up the claims.

Immigrants without a legal status are 26 percent less likely to be convicted of murder in Texas compared to the native-born population, according to research by the conservative Cato Institute. The difference is even greater among legal immigrants, who are 61 percent less likely to be convicted of murder than U.S.-born citizens.

Nationwide, immigrants are 60 percent less likely to be incarcerated than U.S.-born citizens, according to research published in the Stanford University Institute for Economic Policy Research.

“What this data shows us is that illegal immigrants are not a major source of crime in the United States,” said Alex Nowrasteh, vice president for economic and social policy studies and author of the Cato study. 

The statistics offer no solace to the families of victims, Nowrasteh said. However, the big-picture data should drive policy decisions.

“A mass deportation program targeted at illegal immigrants will not reduce the nationwide crime rate because their crime rate is already below that of the nationwide rate and of native-born Americans,” Nowrasteh said.  

Despite the research, the political conversation has revolved around the immigration status of the two accused men, leading to concerns about access to a fair trial. In September, a state district judge considered but rejected a gag order in the case.

“We don’t want this process to be politicized,” Mario Madrid, one of Rangel Martinez’s lawyers, told reporters after a September hearing. “We want a fair jury, and we can’t get that with people discussing the case when they don’t have any facts or evidence about it.”

Madrid and Lisa Andrews, a lawyer for Peña Ramos, did not respond to a request for comment for this story.

All eyes on Alexis

At a candlelight vigil for Jocelyn four days after her death, Alexis got a taste of what was to come. Attendees she didn’t recognize outnumbered those she did. 

Addressing the crowd, Houston Mayor John Whitmire called for no bail for the alleged killers. Andy Kahan, director of victim services for Crime Stoppers, said Jocelyn would be a “catalyst for change.” 

April Aguirre, whose 9-year-old niece, Arlene Alvarez, was shot and killed in southeast Houston in 2022, approached Alexis at the vigil. Aguirre, who has become a local victims advocate through Crime Stoppers, told Alexis she was there for whatever she needed and invited her to a support group for victims’ relatives.

The following Wednesday at the funeral home, Alexis got to see her daughter for the last time. She was struck by how she both recognized her and didn’t. Her face was swollen. Her fingers were wrinkled like she had gotten out of a bathtub. 

Alexis had been so overwhelmed she had barely eaten. The funeral director noticed and brought her a three-piece chicken meal from Raising Cane’s, one of Jocelyn’s favorites.

Alexis believes it was one of the first of many messages that Jocelyn has sent, a reminder that she is with her and Elias. Alexis began seeing Jocelyn everywhere – in butterflies, which she only started seeing after Jocelyn’s death, or when her favorite song “Linger” by the Cranberries plays on the speakers at Walmart.

Meanwhile, elected officials across the political spectrum offered their condolences, including Democratic state Sens. Carol Alvarado and Molly Cook, and Abbott. Their decision to call made Alexis feel that Jocelyn truly mattered. 

At the funeral, Alexis kept her focus on Jocelyn’s casket.

“I couldn’t get the nerve to look around behind me. I just couldn’t,” Alexis said. “Because I knew the moment I did, everyone was going to stare at me.”

She scratched her head and saw full rows of people from the corner of her eye. Whitmire, Lt. Gov. Dan Patrick, and the governor’s wife Cecilia Abbott all came to pay their respects.

Jocelyn’s father, who is in prison on a drug conviction, was granted permission to attend the funeral, but arrived late. The casket had been closed before the service, but the funeral director offered to open it again afterward so both parents could have a final few moments with her. 

“Even though we never really had the best relationship, I’ll always be thankful that he was late because that gave me 15 more minutes to see her, and seeing her brought me comfort,” Alexis said. 

Trump called the next day. The following weeks were a “blur” as Alexis tried to return to some semblance of a normal life.

Alexis got a reprieve from the spotlight in July before campaign events went into full swing. By August, as the presidential election focused on immigration, the political events kept coming.

“It was really April and Andy reaching out and saying, ‘These people want to talk to you, they want to help you.’ It was really, essentially, politicians who were against open-border policy wanting to help me make a difference,” Alexis said. “It took off from there as I got more courage.”

FIEL Houston, an immigrants rights organization that also accompanies Houston-area victims through the justice system, tried to contact Alexis during this time. 

“We always try to reach out to folks, to let them know that we don’t like to label entire communities by the actions of a few,” said FIEL executive director Cesar Espinosa. 

They were never able to reach her, Espinosa said. 

From grief to advocacy

Alexis joined Cruz at Houston Crime Stoppers on Aug. 2 to announce his Justice for Jocelyn Act to increase immigrant detention. She flew to the Arizona border in late August and felt Trump’s hand on her shoulder while she called for increased border security. She received so many calls for media and political appearances that she put her phone on “do not disturb” mode most days. 

Sometimes, Alexis was not told in advance she would be asked to speak at campaign events. So, when Trump or Cruz ceded the floor, she spoke from the heart.

“I just really, really, really want everybody to really take into consideration how important border control is because we’re losing very innocent people to heinous crimes that shouldn’t be happening in the first place,” she said at an Aug. 23rd Trump campaign stop at the Arizona border.

Alexis acknowledged she may seem an unlikely campaign figure for Trump, noting she was not always a fan of the now president-elect and how he speaks about women. She has Mexican and Salvadoran heritage, although her family has lived for generations in Texas and she does not speak Spanish. 

But Trump was there, she said, to listen. He gave her a platform that makes her feel that Jocelyn’s death was not in vain.

The campaign events also were a welcome distraction. They kept her focused on a goal rather than lost in grief.

“There’s a purpose behind her not being here,” Alexis said. 

Channeling grief into advocacy is a common response for family members of crime victims, said Paul Castro, whose 17-year-old son, David Castro, was killed in a 2021 road rage shooting in Houston. Access to resources like grief counseling is limited in the Houston area, Castro said, leaving many families to find their own ways to manage loss. For Castro, advocacy “reignites a sense of purpose.” 

“There is no right way to grieve,” Castro said. “What I’ve learned is, anger is a more agency-filled pathway than some of the other pathways.” 

Entering advocacy without proper support can leave victims trapped between dueling political messages, he added. Democratic politicians often leave victims feeling ignored, while Republicans tend to wave victims around as examples of what not to become, he said.

“My worry is often being in a position where my story is a tool instead of a story about my son, David,” Castro said. “For that reason, I very much want to own the story myself and keep it close to me so it doesn’t become part of that headline. The headline is: The world lost a very amazing kid who was going to be an amazing person.”

Alexis is similarly driven to keep Jocelyn’s memory alive, even at the expense of her privacy. 

She finally went back to the gym in October, hiding in her hoodie when she saw her face on a campaign ad on one of the TVs while she was working out. A stranger tried to hug her and ruffle Elias’ hair during a routine trip to Walmart.

A man she doesn’t know has been sitting by Jocelyn’s grave. He told a relative he wants Alexis to know he would have protected Jocelyn.

Kyleigh’s mother, Acacia, has overheard people talking about Jocelyn’s case at the grocery store.

The most uncomfortable moments for Alexis are when she goes to a taco truck or Mexican restaurant. No one has ever confronted her, but says she feels unwanted. She thinks some Latinos disagree with her political message and support of Trump and Cruz. 

“I can just read the body language that (they) want nothing to do with me,” Alexis said. 

Others have accused her of seeking fame or profiting off her daughter’s death, even though she said she is not paid for her public speaking engagements or political ads. She does, however, have some outside support from donations. A GoFundMe started by her best friend to support the family has received more than $117,000 in donations. She took a leave from her administrative job at a pest control company shortly after Jocelyn’s murder and the money has supported her since.

Grieving alone

The final weeks of the campaign were a whirlwind for Alexis. She was interviewed dozens of times on several YouTube channels and Fox News and filmed numerous campaign ads. She appeared in Austin with Trump and Cruz, then was flown back to Houston on a millionaire’s fighter jet. 

Then, it all came to a stop. 

The barrage of phone calls subsided within a day of the election, and the demands on Alexis’ time have all but ceased. She expects things to pick up again once Republicans take control of the Senate and the White House in January. 

For now, Alexis follows a rigid daily schedule to keep herself busy: Wake up early, drop Elias at school, go home and study, work out at the gym, pick up Elias, make dinner, put Elias to bed, then study until she is nodding off to sleep herself. In January, she’ll start college classes in psychology, a subject she has taken interest in because of Jocelyn’s mental health struggles. 

She hopes to have more time to think about her daughter’s legacy in another way, perhaps opening a nonprofit for a cause close to Jocelyn: animal rights, youth acting classes or mental health awareness. 

Slowing down is giving her more time to process her grief alone.

Throughout some of the most chaotic five months of her life, Alexis established a routine to honor her daughter on the 17th of each month.

Last month, she went to the memorial site near the creek where Jocelyn’s body was found. She cleaned and organized the many items – flowers, stuffed animals, mugs and art – left by friends and strangers. A passerby stopped to tell Alexis she was sorry for her loss. She was voting for Trump, the woman said.

Alexis then drove to the cemetery, bringing along Halloween-themed balloons. Jocelyn’s grave is near the back of the cemetery, awaiting a headstone.

Halloween decorations, pinwheels and flowers covered the patch of grass. Alexis again dutifully cleaned the space, collecting weeds and tossing dead flowers. 

Once she was satisfied, Alexis sat on the ground, took out her phone and turned on a playlist of Jocelyn’s favorite songs. She then pulled out a scrapbook – a senior year project from her own high school English class – filled with memories of Jocelyn’s infancy and Alexis’ own teenage dreams, of the life she hoped to build with Jocelyn. 

Alexis used to hate visiting cemeteries, but said she feels at peace being there with Jocelyn. She spoke to her daughter that day, reflecting on the ups and the downs of their time together. 

“I knew she wasn’t happy at that point in her life, and now I think about how free she is from all of that,” Alexis said. “I imagine her as the most free version of herself, and that brings me peace.”

Alone, seated in the grass for nearly two hours, she wept. 

The post ‘I don’t want her to be forgotten’: The election is over. Alexis Nungaray’s grief remains. appeared first on Houston Landing.