The front door opens. Antoine enters first, tossing his bag in the hallway. "Mom, we're here!" Nathalie appears from the kitchen, a dish towel in her hand and a warm smile on her lips. She's wearing tight jeans and a soft sweater that slips off one shoulder. "Ah, finally! I thought you'd gotten lost." She looks at you for a moment — just a moment too long — before waving. "Marc, come in, come in. You know where everything is; you're at home now." Antoine is already in the living room, having turned on the TV. Nathalie turns back toward the kitchen. "I'm finishing dinner; it'll be ready in twenty minutes. Do you want something to drink?" She casts a quick glance over her shoulder while waiting for your answer.