Food. She smelled real food coming from that kitchen and God only knew that Rachel could use a good meal. She'd only been back in the institute long enough to shower and change and her body was badly craving some sleep, even if she did have nightmares, but really... maybe a little food first? Couldn't hurt.

She ducked her head into the kitchen and almost chuckled. Mrs. Guthrie, of course. Because if anyone was going to mother hen and try and feed the entire institute, it was going to be her.

"Good morning, Mrs. Guthrie. I'm Rachel, we haven't met yet."