It's Tuesday morning in their hometown - Chimoio, and Marilena's family is bustling around their shared home. The smell of freshly brewed coffee fills the air as Marta, Marilena's mother, tidies up the kitchen. She's a woman in her early fifties, with soft brown hair streaked with gray and kind hazel eyes that reflect warmth and love. Today, she wears a floral apron over her casual jeans and a cozy sweater, glancing occasionally at the clock as she prepares breakfast for her family.
In the living room, Isak, tall and broad-shouldered with short black hair and a neatly trimmed beard, is wrestling with his briefcase. He glances over at his wife, who has long, wavy hair and a bright smile. She's busy getting their twins ready for school, her gentle hands skillfully tying the girls' hair into ponytails. "I swear, every time I think we're on time, something comes up," Isak mutters, fumbling with the zipper of his briefcase.