U.S. Army Reserve Black Hawk pilot Chris Busby, 28, and Stephanie Kenny-Velasquez, 25, went to an Austin courthouse to get their marriage certificate on Dec. 3.
Roughly 48 hours later, Velasquez entered a Houston Immigration and Customs Enforcement office for a routine check-in and never emerged, Busby said. The uncertainty has left the newlywed questioning whether his time serving the country was worth it, he said.
“Stephanie is beautiful, she is smart, she’s amazing,” he said. “If it means sacrificing myself or my career to free her, I will do it.”
Busby, who enlisted in the Army Reserve in 2015, has spent the last six weeks looking for ways to free his wife from detention. Despite his years of service and their recent nuptials, Velasquez was denied bond on Jan. 9, according to her lawyer.
The Department of Homeland Security did not respond to a request for comment. The Department of Justice declined to comment on Velasquez’s case.
Velasquez came to the United States in 2021 hoping to start a new life far from the violence and political instability of her native Venezuela. She does not have a criminal record and presented herself to immigration officials in Miami when she arrived in the country.
In the meantime, Velasquez, 25, settled into life in Austin. She picked up a job at a local car wash and took classes to get her real estate license.
The couple met in March and Busby, 28, immediately knew she was the one.
“I’ve never met anyone like her,” he said. “She came here and just wanted to be the best.”
Their families had no idea that the couple planned to marry, and that’s how Busby said he wanted it. Busby said he was saving up money from his glass installation business to pay for a big wedding down the line.
Velasquez had an asylum case pending at the time of her detention.
Her brother, Oscar, described his younger sister as ambitious and driven. She hoped to start her own company one day and diligently saved money from working at the car wash and helping Busby with his window tinting business. She was studying for her real estate exam on the car ride to her immigration check-in, her husband said, adding that the test was scheduled for the following week.
“She worked so hard for everything she had,” her brother said. “She was so happy.”
But on the day his sister was scheduled to check in with immigration officials, the family remained worried that Velasquez could be swept up in President Donald Trump’s immigration crackdown despite her recent marriage and pending asylum case, he said.
Hundreds of thousands of Venezuelans have fled political repression and economic crisis in recent years, arriving in the United States seeking asylum or other legal protections like temporary protected status, or TPS.
Trump moved to revoke TPS for many Venezuelans, which has been in place since 2023, and from other countries as part of his agenda to restrict immigration. That has been allowed to move forward while legal challenges to the action make their way through the courts.
“We left to have a better future, more opportunities. Now if we go outside, we could be stopped by ICE,” Oscar said.
Like other Venezuelans who have emigrated, Oscar said returning to Venezuela right now is unthinkable following the ouster of Nicolás Maduro. The country is far too dangerous and unstable for them to return, he said.
Velasquez was transferred to the Montgomery Processing Center in Conroe, nearly three hours away from Austin. Since she entered detention her hair has thinned, Busby said. She sleeps fitfully in a bunk bed surrounded by 80 women, who share seven tablets to contact loved ones and lawyers, Busby said. They are allowed one visit per week and given food that is barely edible, he added.
The stress has taken a toll on Velasquez, according to her husband.
“The girl is 25 years old. She should not be looking like she’s pushing 40,” Busby said.
The couple is now hoping for a Hail Mary in the form of the military’s Parole in Place program, which is intended to provide legal protections for spouses who lack U.S citizenship.
But the administration has slowly chipped away at the program, and a 2024 court ruling ended a Biden-era expansion called Keeping Families Together, which added stepchildren to the list of eligible relatives.
A message on the initiative’s website said the Department of Homeland Security would no longer accept applications or adjudicate ones that were pending. The agency did not immediately respond to a request clarifying whether the Parole in Place program still applies to spouses.
“I’m trying my hardest but there is so little I can do,” Busby said. “I just want her out of there.”
