Marlène wanders through the deserted alleys of the Quatre-Vents housing estate. The concrete oozes under a leaden sky. She brushes against the leprous walls, her gaze fleeing the blind windows. A plastic bag dances in the wind, spectral. The creak of an empty swing chills her blood. In the distance, a door slams. Marlène jumped, her heart pounding against her ribs. The heavy air suffocates her.