For the past two months, with thousands of federal police officers patrolling Minneapolis, Ana, Carlos, and their son Luis have been locking themselves in their home.

The curtains of this Mexican family remain closed all day and they block the door with a metal bar to prevent it from being forced open.

For this family, who have been living in this Midwestern city for over a decade, where two Americans were killed by federal agents in January, Donald Trump's second term has turned their American dream into a nightmare.

"It's inhumane to live like this, a prisoner in your own home," Ana, who speaks under a pseudonym, like her husband and son, told AFP.

This 47-year-old mother has four children. Luis remains confined with her because he was born in Mexico, but she worries herself sick about the other three, who were born in America, as soon as they go out.

"I am always afraid that even if they are citizens, they will no longer be respected and that they may be taken away solely because of the color of their skin," she trembles.

Before returning home, the children must send a text message in advance. Otherwise, the door will not open when they knock.

Fifteen-year-old Luis watches his brothers and sister come and go with a pang of sadness.

The teenager dreams of "going to the fast food place that's just down the street, when things get better."

"Right now, it's so close, yet so far away," he sighs.

- "Trump scammed us" -

Once his online classes are finished, he numbs himself in front of "Half-Life", a first-person shooter video game, often five hours a day.

"It's the only thing that allows me to forget what's happening," he sighs.

His father Carlos is enraged by the ordeal they are enduring.

This granite countertop installer paid $11,000 in legal fees to file their visa applications. The process has been ongoing for almost three years.

He and his wife have a work permit. But the Trump administration doesn't care about this official document, which no longer prevents arrest or deportation.

"They give you a work permit, but that doesn't allow you to stay legally in this country. How is that possible?" Carlos exclaimed.

"We feel like Trump has ripped us off," grumbles the 43-year-old immigrant.

"I don't think we deserved this. We didn't do anything wrong, we are not criminals," he insists.

He is dismayed by the methods of the two agencies responsible for combating immigration, ICE and CBP.

In Minneapolis, as in Los Angeles and Chicago, masked police officers are carrying out numerous raids in the streets, particularly at bus stops and near hardware stores.

During Donald Trump's first term, Carlos did not feel the need to shut himself away and remembers more targeted operations.

"What if it never ended?"

Only two men among his acquaintances had been expelled. "One was involved in drug trafficking, the other beat his wife," he says.

Operation "Metro Surge," launched by the Trump administration in Minneapolis, is not yet over.

But for the one conducted in Los Angeles last summer, statistics showed that more than half of the immigrants arrested had no criminal record.

Between Carlos's stable job and the odd jobs Ana does as a cook or cashier, the couple usually earns $6,000 a month. But since December, they have had no income.

To pay their $2,200 rent in January, they had to borrow $1,500 from a friend.

How will they manage next month? They're simply praying that the bulk of the federal agents are sent elsewhere in the United States.

But sometimes, doubt gnaws at them.

"What if it never ends?" Carlos blurts out. "The president has to stay for another three years, three years is quite a long time."

In front of the rest of the family, Ana tries to embody a reassuring maternal figure. But when her mind wanders, she imagines herself back in Mexico.

"The only thing keeping me here is my children's dreams," she said.