There is a palpable chill spreading through the immigrant community in New Jersey, where upwards of half a million undocumented residents reside.

The incoming Trump administration has made it clear that mass deportations are a top priority, but the push to fill and expand those detention centers has been underway for some time.

“Oh, my gosh,” says Eric Cruz Morales of the New Jersey Alliance for Immigrant Justice. “This has been happening since the Biden administration took over. President Biden came into office there were about 13,000 people in detention. That number has spiked up to almost 43,000 people in detention.”

That’s 43,000 people being held in detention facilities around the country, most often run by private operators like Tennessee-based CoreCivic and Florida-based GEO Group, both billion-dollar companies that make most of their money on lucrative contracts with the federal government.

The ACLU sued to get records that show the Immigration and Customs Enforcement agency has issued requests for proposals to expand capacity in New Jersey. Facilities under consideration in New Jersey include “Bo” Robinson Treatment Center in Trenton, the Elizabeth Detention Center, and Delaney Hall in Newark, all owned and or operated by Core Civic or Geo Group.

“It’s a really big business, and when we’re talking about some of the big operators in this space, including the ones that responded to RFPs in New Jersey or that are currently operating in New Jersey, these are very large, private prison companies who are also in the business of immigration detention,” said Ami Kachalia, campaign strategist with the ACLU-NJ.

Given the scale of the Trump administration’s deportation plan, investors in these companies have perked up since election day. The companies — many of whose executives were Trump contributors — have seen their stock prices jump significantly. For Core Civic, it rose over 50% in the past month. GEO Group is up 74%. Advocates contend all that money is corrupting the policy.

Esmeralda Martinez — who asked that we not show her face — said her husband Waldin, who was in the U.S. without proper documentation, was picked up by ICE in April. “He decided out of desperation from being locked up to sign a voluntary deportation,” she explained.

“He signed months ago, and he still hasn’t been released to his home country,” added Dolly Hernandez, of Casa Freehold.

“One of the guards told two guys that had been with Waldin, who had been there waiting three months for their voluntary deportation, and they asked the guard, ‘Why are we still here?'” Hernandez said, relating a story told by some of Waldin’s fellow detainees. “And the guard said because if we send you back to your country, we’re not going to make any money.”

Such anecdotal evidence is hard to prove, but one thing is certain, immigrants of all statuses are beginning to recede back into the shadows.

“We hear stories of people who are too scared to register for healthcare or to send their kids to public schools or even to report things like wage theft or domestic violence,” said Kachalia of the ACLU. “They’re nervous about interacting with local government agencies because they don’t know if their information is going to get shared with ICE.”

The state Immigrant Trust Act, proposed legislation that would codify protections already afforded by our so-called sanctuary state, is currently stalled in Trenton.