Little bowls of taco toppings sit on a polished dining table on Des Moines' north side as Flor Morales Landaverde, 49, greets her son, Jairo Morales Landaverde, 25, and signs to him.

Jairo, who is deaf, scoops meat into a tortilla and turns around to go back and eat in his room. Faint white scar lines are visible on his skull, like little stark rivers against his dark hair.

"I feel like that happened yesterday. It’s, like, fresh," his mother said. "I don’t think those things ever go far from my mind."

Over six years ago, Jairo was beaten by a crowbar at the family's first home, leaving him bloodied on the kitchen floor.

Though the family has moved away from that house, haunted by the memories of the attack, they have a new fear: The Trump administration announced plans to end temporary protected status for the Moraleses and thousands of other immigrant families in the United States, leaving them in limbo after they made a life in Des Moines for nearly 20 years.

They thought they had another avenue to remain in Iowa: U-Visas, which help victims of crimes who are willing to speak with law enforcement.

But the Des Moines Police Department has declined to assist. Authorities and the Moraleses offer differing accounts on whether the family tried to aid the police investigation and Jairo's relationship with a gang.

Going from El Salvador to Iowa

Living in El Salvador, Flor had her own hand signals to communicate with Jairo that she called "mom and son sign."

It was clunky, but in their hometown of Chalatenango in northern El Salvador, it was not easy for him to go to school and there was no way to learn Spanish sign language.

Her husband, Ernesto Morales Palacios, was a police officer, but an accident left him unable to work.

Flor's sister was living in Des Moines. In an effort to find work and get a better life for Jairo, they obtained travelers' visas Feb. 11, 1999, and the family moved to Iowa.

Gabriela Morales Landaverde, the family's only daughter, was 2 years old. Jairo was 7.

“We just want the best,” Flor said.

The family lived with her sister in Des Moines in a two-bedroom house where they fit 10 family members.

A month later, Ernesto and Flor found work.

At Capitol View Elementary School, Jairo got the help he needed to learn American Sign Language. His family took weekly classes and learned how to communicate with him.

Flor learned English so she could more easily bring the kids to school and deal with everyday activities like going to the grocery store.

She got a job at McDonald's and stayed there for 16 years. Ernesto has worked overnight at a post office; he now works at Helena Industries, a chemical manufacturing plant.

They made Des Moines their home and in 2001 they applied and received temporary protected status (TPS), a designation established by Congress to suspend deportations of people whose countries weren’t stable because of war or catastrophe. Under President George W. Bush, people from El Salvador were granted TPS after an earthquake and its aftermath left over 1,000 Salvadorans dead.

In 2003, the family purchased their own home on the east side.

“It was better,” Flor said.

The assault and the aftermath: Who said what

Jairo, 19, was sitting on the family porch in March 2012 with two other friends when a green Ford Explorer with four men inside stopped in front of the house. The men then got out of the car and started assaulting them. It was around 10 p.m.

One attacker pulled out a crowbar and beat them repeatedly; the assault moved into the family's home briefly, breaking the front door, according to the police report.

After the assault, the men got back into their vehicle and left, according to the report.

Jairo was brought to Mercy Medical Center and his mother called the police. Gabriela and Ernesto were inside the home at the time of the assault, but were sleeping and unable to provide details, the family said.

When officers at the hospital asked the victims for information, none of them gave a better description of the vehicle or identified the suspects beyond saying “north-siders” were involved, according to the police report.

Police took photos of Jairo and of the scene at his home. During follow-up interviews with investigators, the victims told them the assault was part of a gang dispute and they would not discuss what precipitated the attack, said Des Moines police spokesman Sgt. Paul Parizek.

Police contacted Jairo and his family three times and his mother interpreted, Parizek said.

She once called officers and provided them a name of a person who committed the assault, but Parizek said police were unable to find any records under that name.

Flor said the family did cooperate by calling the police when the crime occurred.

“It’s not like he didn’t cooperate. He tried. He is deaf,” Flor said. “With his disability, he tried to explain who it was and who did it.”

Des Moines police allege that Jairo was a part of the Sureños gang, which is loosely affiliated with the Mexican mafia.

Flor didn’t deny his possible gang involvement, but she said the victims were merely sitting in front of the house when they were attacked, with Jairo getting the worst of it.

She said they are still willing to assist police with the investigation.

“He was not bothering nobody,” Flor said. “He can have records that he’s been drinking and going to jail, but for assault and for stuff like that, he doesn’t have records for those.”

Parizek said gang members can still be victims of crimes and obtain a U-Visa, but knowing what precipitated the attack is necessary. He said these victims, including Jairo, did not share that information.

"The nature of gang-related crimes is a cycle and determining what happened before a gang-related incident and determining the necessary intervention to prevent ongoing retaliation is critical to solving a gang-related crime," Parizek said.

Since 2011, Jairo has been charged with criminal mischief, three counts of public intoxication and two counts of possession of drug paraphernalia in Polk County.

The criminal mischief charge was for using a permanent marker to write on a bathroom stall at Scavo High School in 2011.

Trying to stay in the United States

In January, Trump announced he is ending temporary protected status for six countries, including El Salvador.

A federal judge ordered the Trump administration to temporarily halt its plan to end the special federal immigration program in September that has allowed hundreds of thousands of immigrants to legally live and work in the U.S. for decades.

Since then, the Morales family has been trying to find out how they can stay in Des Moines, the home their kids know, if ultimately TPS is not an option.

They hired an immigration lawyer to help them get U-Visas signed for the family.

U-Visas are used to help victims of crimes who have "suffered substantial mental or physical abuse" and are willing to cooperate with law enforcement, according to U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services.

Victims who have suffered serious crimes may qualify for a U-Visa, including felonious assault, domestic abuse, blackmail, sexual assault, trafficking, kidnapping or other qualifying crimes, according to U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services.

Certifications for U-Visas are signed by law enforcement or other criminal investigative departments like the Iowa Department of Human Services or a county attorney's office that confirm a victim was cooperative.

The certification is sent to U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services for consideration. While the federal immigration department may ultimately decide not to grant a U-Visa, a signed certification is a required step.

Because Jairo was the victim of assault with a weapon, Tim Farmer, the family’s attorney, tried to get Des Moines police to sign visas for him and his relatives, who say they were also mentally affected by the crime at their home.

Sgt. Chad Cornwell, who oversees the program, will not sign it. Police say Jairo did not cooperate with the investigation, but they had two other rationales for the denial:

NOT A FELONY: Des Moines police say another obstacle is that they do not consider assault with a weapon a felony assault. Farmer said the application from federal immigration states "other similar crimes" may be considered. He believes it should be up to the immigration department to determine if something rises to the felony assault level.

“The only thing they need to do is decide: was the guy helpful or not?" Farmer said.

TIME LIMIT: Unlike the other police departments in the metro area, including Ankeny, Urbandale, Johnston, West Des Moines, Waukee, Windsor Heights and Clive, the Des Moines Police Department says that if it’s been over five years since a crime happened, it won’t sign the certification because of the loss of integrity in the investigation and potential for fraud.

A statute of limitations isn't required under federal law, but since the program is voluntary, police departments are allowed to add their own policies.

This causes issues for immigrants who are victims of crimes, particularly ones who thought they would be able to stay on TPS in the United States but are now scrambling like Flor's family, Farmer said.

Laura Hessburg, the public policy director of the Iowa Coalition Against Domestic Violence, said that before federal and state departments started enforcing immigration more tightly in recent years, she noticed the Des Moines Police Department was more subjective about signing U-Visas.

Now, she said, the organization's legal clinic is getting more certifications rejected. She said victims of domestic abuse, particularly immigrant women, are already fearful of speaking with the police; the barrier has created even more problems, she said.

Victims of domestic violence or sexual abuse often don't immediately report their crimes because when they do, it can put them in harm's way if they're still with their abuser.

“It’s a policy that prevents people from accessing their legal protections under the law,” she said. “There’s some pretty egregious denials.”

A woman who was kidnapped and "brutally assaulted" was denied a certification after helping law enforcement because her criminal case was "pending," she said.

The organization attempted to spearhead legislation last year that would standardize U-Visa certification across the state rather than allowing municipalities to decide their own individual rules.

The bill would also require police departments to track the amount of U-Visa requests received and how many certifications they sign or deny under House File 2388.

It did not pass.

She said policy's like the one by Des Moines police assumes there is an "integrity' issue with the U-Visa program, but she said that is not the case. Police departments won't face consequences if ICE doesn't ultimately grant the visa and the waiting period already averages four years.

"it’s unfortunate because it’s based on the assumption someone would exploit this program and it’s offensive to us," Hessburg said. "If there is a significant problem with that we would have heard it, but it sounds like they’re making a solution trying to find a problem."

Des Moines police do not keep a record of U-Visas, but Parizek said the department estimates that it receives about 50 annually and that 60 percent of those are signed.

Parizek said that in extreme cases the police department would make an exception with its five-year policy, though the police department does not keep a record of how many times this has happened.

He also said it appears the majority of rejections are because the reported crimes "do not meet the program's standards," meaning fewer are rejected because of the five-year policy.

"As with any other policy, should an update or modification be necessary, that is an option we would consider," Parizek said.

Making Des Moines home

As Gabriela holds her 1-year-old daughter in her lap, her kid sings “Baby Shark” while she plays with her.

Gabriela fears moving to a country she never knew. Nightmares of the assault still haunt her, but she’s even more scared of forcing her husband and daughter to move to El Salvador.

“It’s a nightmare,” she said while gently holding her daughter.

Flor is also worried about moving back to a country where they have no idea what life is like now, especially for Jairo, who only knows American Sign Language and English.

Gabriela wants to go back to college and study architecture. Flor works for Iowa Methodist Medical Center in the nutrition department.

They just want things to stay the same.

“We get used to living here. We went to Los Angeles and we don’t really like that. Boston, anywhere you go,” Flor said. “You feel like this is your home.”