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In the waiting rooms outside the immigration courts at Manhattan’s 26 Federal Plaza, everyone whispers. There are signs everywhere telling visitors to be quiet and not to use cellphones, but everyone mostly ignores the latter instruction: Kids need to be entertained; relatives need to be updated. The cell service is terrible, though—the building is a blank warren of antiseptic hallways and worn-down maroon carpeting, which seems to dampen any kind of cell signal and simultaneously amplify everyone’s voice, which is part of the reason that most people try to whisper.

The other reason is that out in the hallway, just on the other side of an open door, there are mask

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