That afternoon I take a break and head down to the kitchen. There’s a French tradition called le goûter where all French kids have their afternoon snack, necessary since dinner isn’t usually served until seven-thirty at the earliest.

As I enter the kitchen, my senses are flooded by the warmth of the oven and the buttery smell of freshly-baked pastries. Jeanne is loading up a cooling rack with chouquettes, which are hollow golf-ball-sized pastries coated with sugar crystals. When you buy them at the patisserie, they’re good. But when you eat them still warm, just out of the oven, they are melt-in-your-mouth delicious. I take a bite of one of Jeanne’s and practically swoon.

“I see you approve,” she says, smiling. “You better get yourself a plateful before Ambrose finds out they’re ready!”

I load up a plate with pastries, grab a banana off the fruit bowl, make myself a coffee, and sit down at the table to dig in.

Georgia and Arthur make their way into the kitchen, proving that, even though goûter is for kids, it is an unspoken tradition for adults as well. They take four or five chouquettes each and join me at the table.

“I need to do today’s check-up,” I remind Arthur. “I can come down later.”

“No need,” Arthur says. “You can just write down in your book that since yesterday, I can’t taste anything,”

I look at his full plate of chouquettes.

“Doesn’t mean I’m not hungry,” he says, and pops one in his mouth.

“So, you’ll be coming along tonight, of course,” Georgia tells, not asks.

“Um, sure?” I venture. I have no idea what she’s talking about.

“Great!” She smiles beatifically at Jeanne, who sets a sugar bowl and pitcher of milk next to her coffee. “Jeanne, if you could possibly take care of Odette tonight, Vincent can join us.”

“Vincent already asked me,” Jeanne responds. “He and Kate will be joining you—Kate only in spirit, of course, since she’s volant today—and I will be babysitting Odette.”

“Awesome. Thank you so much!” Georgia says. Crunching through a crispy pastry shell, she rolls her eyes in pleasure. “Oh my god, best chouquettes in Paris,” she moans.

Jeanne gives a satisfied smile and turns back to the oven.

“So, where exactly are we going tonight?” I ask.

Georgia’s mouth full, she tries sign language, but Arthur answers. “Georgia’s ex-boyfriend Sebastien and his group have a concert tonight.”

“So we’re all taking a break from Numa Army surveillance?” I ask.

Arthur shakes his head. “Not all. Charlotte and Ambrose will be visiting an eastern suburb with our Mouzaïa house. Georgia and I are meeting them after the concert. Vincent’s on Dad duty. And Gaspard wants you on the database tonight but said you might enjoy coming with us to the concert first.”