Since this a pretty big bump up on the list, allow me to add another idea.
Her first time she had barely been a teenager, and lived with her parents and siblings in a camp, and later the back of a van. It had been hard, stoop labor, picking fruit in California and Washington. She had never finished school, could barely read and write her own language, but she learned some English, and that as hard as it was, it was better than south of the border. The INS had come though, and took her parents, she lasted longer, went to a legal distant cousin, something to do with courts. By the time the migras came again she was at a poultry plant.
That had been a terrible and frightening place. She was harassed by her supervisor, bullied and pressured, and then there was the work itself. Maria had stopped eating chicken, still couldn't stomach it. When the migras finally came she was an adult, and was deported with everyone else. At first she thought of it as liberation, had forgotten how bad it was in her village. Bad water, little electricity. By the time she got back the cartels where there too, her father had disappeared, her mother had nearly given up.
So naturally she wanted back in Estados Unitos. Maria was a hybrid now, didn't fit in the old country, was illegal in her new. But she spoke passable English, and was determined, the land of milk and honey beckoned. Towing her mother she dared the crossing again, walked for two days in southern Arizona to find the coyote and finish the passage.
Land of opportunity! She was in Norte Carolina now, another distant, but naturalized, cousin. And his wife and kids. And his brother and and his brother's cousin-in-law. With her own mother. All crammed into a three bedroom apartment. She cleaned houses now. The network of the immigrants- one legal to land the work, and a van load of workers with fake IDs not paying taxes. Well there was the work tax: every house was $40 back to the driver, the rest was hers. They got dropped off in the morning, picked up at lunch, another place in the afternoon. If you were lucky it was in a neighborhood, and you could find extra houses, work faster and harder, get two or three out of one drop.
Obviously there's a ton of stories we can write about Maria, what are your ideas?