Astrid follows Vanya in and finds herself rudely poking around the inside of the house, like a dog nosing around the corners of a room, poking the knitting and flipping through the books. She’s interested in what this is like: the marks of a permanent home, a settled life in town.

“What’s your wife and kid’s name again?” she asks, curious.

She must’ve known, at some point. She’s definitely spoken to them before, exchanged friendly words in town, empty pleasantries. But her memories of them are inexplicably blurry for the moment.