MIAMI — Herlain, a registered nurse who was born in Haiti, barely leaves her house these days.
The few times she has, she was terrified. She instructed her family members about how to record on their phones in case she gets detained by federal immigration authorities.
"You would think I was on the run," she told NPR. "Who am I on the run from? This is crazy!"
Even at home she fears strangers and refused to open the door to a salesman who requested water on a humid Florida day during a recent heatwave.
"That's not me. I'm a nurse, I help people," she recounted through tears.
Herlain, along with nearly 350,000 other Haitian migrants, lost her temporary protected status, or TPS, in July. She asked NPR to only use her first name because of her immigration status.
For 16 years, many Haitians living in the U.S. have been shielded from deportation due to TPS. The designation allowed Haitians to live and work here legally, safe from the violence, instability and earthquakes that have torn apart their home country.
But now, Haitian TPS holders are facing deportation after the Trump Administration revoked their protected status this summer.
A Department of Homeland Security spokesperson defended the decision, in an emailed statement to NPR stating "Temporary Protected Status is exactly that — temporary."
"For too long, TPS has been allowed to function as a de facto amnesty program despite Congress never intending it to be permanent," the agency wrote.
Deportation to a deteriorating country
Father Reginald Jean-Mary, a reverend at Notre Dame d'Haiti Catholic Church in Miami, called what the government is doing to Haitians "psychological warfare."
"The government knows deep down that they cannot deport 350,000 people!" said the reverend, who goes by Father Reggie.
Father Reggie said depression and anxiety are rampant among his parishioners, who fear going back to Haiti where conditions have worsened.
Heavily armed gangs have taken over the capital and are rapidly expanding.
Recently dozens of people were massacred, including women and children sheltering in a church, according to the UN.
"We look like the forsaken people," Father Reggie said, adding that all of this has tested his faith.
"You ask yourself, 'When, God? When is it going to stop?'" he said. "When you look at what's going on in Haiti you ask yourself, 'Where, God? Where are you?'"
The death of 20-year-old Pierre Damas Bel in Springfield, Ohio has also shaken this South Florida community to its core. The Haitian man apparently died by suicide after losing his TPS and being outfitted with an ankle monitor.
Father Reggie said prayer service attendance has plummeted, including at the church's adult learning school, which started the year with 231 students and is now down to 17.
He knows of 14 parishioners who have been detained by immigration officers.
"This is a community being deconstructed completely," Father Reggie said.
Ghost town
Little Haiti, the heart of the Haitian community in South Florida, is usually bustling. But since the Trump Administration began posting about the deportation flights of Haitians on social media, few people spend time along the main business corridor, and most shops have their metal shutters down.
A popular restaurant in the area had most of its staff picked up by ICE. A nearby barbershop closed after the owner got detained.
At Libreri Mapou, the Haitian Creole bookstore, owner Jan Mapou explained the emptiness of his store and others.
"Everybody is in hiding," Mapou said. "Everybody is afraid, traumatized."
People are so afraid to go out that a food bank has opened inside a local church.
But Farah Larreux is not hiding.
The former TV and radio broadcaster came to the U.S. from Haiti after being openly critical about political corruption in her home country.
After losing TPS, she says she doesn't have any other option but to continue speaking out this time against politicians in the U.S. who are demonizing Haitian immigrants who were invited into the country years ago.
"I don't want to give up," Larreux said. "I want to look at Trump in his eyes and tell him how evil he is."
She says going back to Haiti now would be a "death sentence" for her, because of how vocal she has been.
Larreux said people are focusing too much on the 'temporary' aspect of TPS. Instead, she said, people should focus on the 'protective' aspect of the program.
She points out the hypocrisy of the Trump Administration, whose State Department has told U.S. citizens not to travel to Haiti because it's too dangerous, and yet is deporting Haitians there.
"So, is the message that my life has no value?" Larreux asked. "Or my life is less valued than the life of an American citizen?"
She wants another legal pathway for immigrants like her who've fled violence and instability. But under Trump, few legal options now remain for Haitians who want to continue to build a life in the U.S.
Still, many Haitians say they are clinging to their faith. It's the only way many can navigate the risks of being in the country illegally.
Father Reggie said he's been reminding his parishioners to hold on to each other.
"We will not give up because I believe Satan has his hour," he said. "But God has his day."
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