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When the lift’s doors open, I get out panting, as if I have climbed the stairs all the way up. I’m late already, so a few minutes won’t make a difference, especially since my nightmare isn’t here anymore. Luuk picks up at the first ring.

‘Looks like somebody’s slacking.’

‘Is there any chance you might have helped get rid of Wanda?’

He laughs. ‘You mean her actual body?’

My mood lifts ever so slightly. ‘Sounds tempting, but I mean getting her fired.’

‘She’s been kicked out? What, no fireworks?’

‘She implied that I asked you to take care of it, so before I celebrate…’

‘As much as I would like to take the credit, I did not get her fired. Probably her shitty character did. Or us, visualizing it?’

‘Maybe…’

‘I thought you’d be happier to not be around her anymore.’

‘I am, really. It’s just that she said some awful things…’

He listens to everything but draws the line at Wanda’s comment about Karma. ‘She’s making empty threats, Corrie, now that she has no hold on you.’

We hang up shortly after, and I get inside to log in and start working. The news about Wanda is circulating without eliciting much compassion, the reason for her being fired still unknown. But the residue of her almost-hatred lingers as I rehash her words.

‘How are you doing?’ Ricardo asks me during break.

No reason to pretend I don’t know what he means, so I decide to go for honesty. ‘Relieved. Surprised.’

‘She was let go because of me,’ he says.

My head snaps towards him. ‘What?’

‘I discussed her unacceptable behavior with HR,’ he explains. ‘I was sick and tired of how she was treating everyone, especially you. And her favouritism got suffocating. Then HR started asking questions, and it appears that I wasn’t the only one having issues with Wanda.’

I hate that Wanda’s words still resonate in my ears during my shift and even afterwards, as if she is the owner of Karma. I tell myself it’s because the happier we are, the more we have to lose, if things go wrong. My mind moves to the countdown Luuk and I aren’t talking about. Yet. Because we’ll have to, like it or not, since there are just two weeks left, and the idea of him leaving again is like someone reaching into my chest and ripping out my heart.

I arrive home to Luuk reading to the kids, a mouth-watering aroma wafting from the kitchen, but I see no takeaway boxes. He lifts his head to greet me with the warmest of smiles, not missing my baffled expression.

‘Welcome home. The food is courtesy of Iris when she dropped off the kids.’

‘So she trusts they won’t try to break you again, if left alone with you?’

‘How are you doing?’ he asks, a hint of concern in his voice.

‘Good.’

‘Want a celebratory drink somewhere in the neighbourhood?’

My eyebrows arch at his suggestion. ‘Are we putting unnecessary pressure on that leg by walking, thus delaying the healing process?’

‘I feel a helicopter hovering over me…’ He smiles shamelessly, but I know he likes that I care. ‘I need to move a bit, stay fit, right, guys?’

He sends the kids a wink, and their faces light up. Next thing, they spring up and Luuk slowly moves behind the couch for more space. The kids flank him, their faces expectant. He stretches out his arms and slightly tilts them downwards, so that Otto can grab Luuk’s left bicep while Ada goes for the right.

‘Mama, look!’ my daughter says, thrilled, as Luuk starts lifting and lowering them like human weights.

‘Careful,’ I say, my heart bursting.