Three men in dark suits knock on the door of a modest house in Dearborn, Michigan. Tarnished gold letters spell out aziz on the black mailbox.

It is dinnertime.

A woman in black pants and a loose-fitting white shirt answers the door and then calls for her husband. One of the men talks for a long time at incredibly slow speed. Though both the husband and wife speak English fluently, they look at the man as if he speaks in tongues.

They turn to each other briefly, silently.

Then the woman shrieks and runs wailing up the stairs into her bedroom. The husband steadies himself against the doorjamb before inviting the men to enter his home.