On June 29, Minerva Garcia and her two youngest sons walked through the double doors of a 65-year-old church building in Greensboro, North Carolina. They carried bags filled with the kind of necessities you take on an extended vacation: clothes, shoes, toiletries, and a few extra items, such as an X-box console, to keep the boys occupied.

But the family would hardly consider their time at Congregational United Church of Christ (UCC) a vacation. A month earlier, Garcia, who's undocumented, had been ordered by ICE officials to return to Mexico by the end of June. Instead, she took sanctuary in the church to avoid being detained and deported to a country she left almost two decades ago.

Garcia is the second person to do so in North Carolina this year. She joins about at least a dozen others across the country, from Mancos, Colorado to Cambridge, Massachusetts, who have moved into places of worship to avoid being picked up by ICE, which has an unofficial policy of not entering such "sensitive locations." Like Juana Luz Tobar Ortega, a grandmother who moved into St. Barnabas Episcopal Church in Greensboro at the end of May, Garcia does not have a criminal record but was ordered by immigration officials (after receiving multiple stays of removal from ICE) at her last check-in to leave the country.

When reached for comment, Bryan Cox, a spokesperson for ICE, told Broadly he was unable to speak on Garcia's case because she's not in custody, citing agency privacy rules.

"I know that in Mexico, there's no future for a blind, or any disabled, person. So that's the reason I came here, looking for a better life for him."

Garcia came to the US 17 years ago to seek education opportunities for her oldest son, Eduardo, who's blind and now 21. "He was five at the time and his father had just passed away," she tells me on a recent Tuesday when I meet her. "That was my responsibility. I know that in Mexico, there's no future for a blind, or any disabled, person. So that's the reason I came here, looking for a better life for him."

Since June 30, the former factory worker has not stepped outside once. "Inside here is very comfortable, but the main reason we moved here is for safety," Garcia says. "Sometimes I get frustrated because I'm not able to go anywhere, just stay inside. And sad. I feel sad sometimes because I know I can't go anywhere."

In neighboring Winston-Salem, where her house is, Garcia says she lived a pretty normal life. She worked a regular job (and she paid taxes), and took care of her kids. "I used to take my son [Eduardo] to voice lessons every week," Garcia says, reminiscing about life before the removal order. "I used to go get groceries, go to the park almost every day, especially during the summer because [my youngest sons] enjoy the sunlight."