All of the food in the cartons look edible, at the very least. The little mounds that Vincent has taken are the best color (a shiny, orange-brown) despite their unflattering shape. There's a mix of soft grains and pale-looking vegetables in another. The biggest container holds the soup that Vincent was eating earlier, filled with noodles and thin strands of something stringy. There's a box of thin crackers, dried strips of fish, even a shallow box that inexplicably appears to be filled with a solid loaf of cooked egg.

"Someone else made it in their kitchen," Robin explains, the corner of his mouth quirked up at the funny question, "We just brought it home."

"Ingram kept trying to give me extra 'cause of that job we did for her last week," Vincent adds, stabbing one of his glazed nuggets with his fork, "So uh, help yourself, I guess. Not a lot of room in the fridge for leftovers anyway."