I met the eyes of an officer who demanded to see identification. Had I not visited a lawyer the day before, who advised me never to speak in Spanish to the police, and had I not been a young mixed-race woman with skin nowhere near as dark as the men being rounded up around me, then the rich Spanish life I have grown into – starting a family here, sitting on the village school’s PTA, swapping baked goods with my neighbours – might never have existed.