It took great courage for her to talk to us. Her story and her experience is a stark glimpse into the life of an undocumented person in America today.
She asked us to call her 'Luz'. She requested that we not publish her real name or show her face. She asked us to alter the pitch of her voice too.
That is the level of fear right now in this country among certain communities.
"I never felt this way before," she told me as we chatted in her small apartment in a suburb of Washington DC. "... the fear I carry with me all the time."
"I'm afraid of leaving the house. I'm afraid of going outside. I'm afraid of being detained. I'm afraid of, you know, just for them to look at me and see me as a Latino woman. Right?
"And being taken. I'm afraid of that."
Her experience is replicated across a section of the Latino community around America.
"I've seen neighbours being taken. I've seen people getting arrested; detained. And it's hurtful."
Two weeks ago, we saw where this fear comes from. My team and I filmed as immigration officials, ICE agents as they are known, stopped a landscaping business truck in the Mount Pleasant district of the American capital.
Three of the men in the vehicle were removed, handcuffed, and put into the back of unmarked cars by agents with no warrants and wearing no uniforms except tactical vests with 'POLICE' written on them.
The detained men were all Latino. Their 'crime' at that point was not being able to prove, on demand, that they had the legal right to be in America.
In short, they didn't have their 'papers' on them.
We were watching the real-time playout of a key policy that propelled President Donald Trump back to the White House: to fix America's immigration crisis.
Or to put it in the terms which sold best on the campaign trail - to "stop the illegal invasion".
In Washington DC, and increasingly other communities in cities across America, these early morning raids are now frequent.
I wanted to understand the impact from the perspective of the communities targeted.
Given the rhetoric in America at the moment, the natural assumption might be that this is a policy designed to round up illegal criminals who were allowed into the country under the Biden administration through the chaotic and insecure southern border.
The messaging is that all undocumented migrants fall into this category: that they are a scourge on society, contribute nothing, take everything, and generally make America less American.
"I've been in the US for 17 years," Luz told me.
"I came here when I was 16 years old from Mexico. My goal was always to become a better version of myself; to be able to learn English," she said, in perfect English.
"I'm sorry...," she began to cry.
Classic 'economic migrant'
Luz's story could not be more typical. She didn't leave Mexico because of war or persecution. She left for a better life. She left for the opportunities on the horizon in America. She is a classic 'economic migrant'.
Now in her 30s, she came here from Mexico in 2008. She came illegally, crossing a remote part of the southern border, to pursue her dream.
"The American dream," she said. "My father had to migrate to support his family. He did it because he wanted us to have an education, to have enough food, clothing, a safe house. I am very thankful for that."
As we chatted, I was struck at how bold she was to agree to tell her story given the climate right now in America.
"I am fully undocumented. I don't have a status in this country. And unfortunately, because of legal reasons, there's no way for me.
"There's not even a pathway."
Luz could never claim asylum because she did not flee war or persecution. That makes sense, of course.
But here's the thing: despite being undocumented, and therefore here illegally, the American way has been to welcome her, to enable her to live here, and to feel that she belonged.
"I've been able to have an ID, to have healthcare. We file taxes every year just as a US citizen does. And it's important for people to know that even though we are illegally here or we don't have the proper documentation, we are able to interact and be part of the society and the community in many ways," she explained.
That may, for many, be an overly generous policy weakness. Yet it has enabled and rooted millions of people in America.
In a nation literally built on immigration, one way or another, Luz was the latest iteration of the American story, until now.
At the White House, Tom Homan is President Trump's border tsar.
He is driving the immigration policy, which propelled Donald Trump back to the presidency - to deport everyone who is here illegally.
He and I spoke this week just outside the Oval Office.
"She hasn't left her home for over two weeks now, she can't take her own child to school in the neighbourhood because she is so frightened of being rounded up by ICE agents," I said to him.
"The bottom line is we're prioritising public safety threats and national security threats," Mr Homan told me.
"We're not out sweeping neighbourhoods. We're not out looking for non-criminals. Now, if we run into a non-criminal during these operations, they absolutely are going to be taken into custody."
I pushed back: "These are people who have been enabled by America to be here..."
"Enabled by America? What does that mean?" he said.
I explained: "It means that they have healthcare, they pay tax, they have jobs. And so over a period of a long time, America has kind of welcomed them and enabled them to be here.
"Because of a change of policy, which we all understand, are you now saying that all of them must leave?"
'It's not okay to be in this country illegally'
Mr Homan replied: "But they are cheating the system, right? Because there's millions of people standing in line taking their tests, doing their background investigation, to be part of the greatest nation on Earth.
"You're talking about people that cheated the system. No. It's not okay to be in this country illegally."
He moved on. There was no chance to ask him why an amnesty for those already here wasn't an option. Critics of the administration have suggested Trump should "take the win" from his successful locking down of the southern border and let non-criminals already here stay.
And there was no opportunity to push back on Mr Homan's claim that his agents are "not out sweeping the streets". The evidence on the streets, in the communities, suggests quite the opposite.
For days now, we have seen ICE agents in blacked-out vehicles roaming the streets.
In targeted neighbourhoods, children are now escorted to school because their parents dare not go out unless they have to.
Daughter is a US citizen
Luz shares her apartment with her husband, also from Mexico and also undocumented. They met in America. He works in a bar. They have a young daughter who was born in America and is therefore a US citizen.
"Last week, I had to go pick her up from school," Luz told me, explaining that there was no one around that day to collect her.
"I was late. I was 20 minutes late. And when I got to school, she was scared, and she was crying and crying, and I said: 'What happened?'
"She was like, 'mum, I thought you were taken. I thought I was not going to see you again'. I just hugged her and I was like, 'I'm sorry, I'm sorry that you have to go through this'."
Luz sobbed as she recalled the moment.
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I asked Luz what her plan now was. What were she and her husband telling their daughter?
"We've been preparing her for a transition. We've been thinking about moving back to Mexico soon. We're going to leave everything behind to start a new life," she said, crying.
"It's hard. It's hard because most of my life I've been here in the US. I don't know how life is in Mexico. And I'm scared to go back."
America has changed. It voted for change. To belong here now no longer means what it did.
With her family, Luz will soon leave the country which adopted her 17 years ago.
(c) Sky News 2025: 'I'm afraid of leaving the house' - what it's like to live undocumented in Trump's America