Dead kid and all. The room begins to spin. “You know what?” Katriina says. “I think I’ll just come back in a bit for that coffee.” As she bolts from the break room, she can feel Krista’s Cheshire-cat smile beaming out behind her.

11:30 a.m.

Katriina stares at her computer screen. She had gotten as far as opening up the accounting software and bringing up her numbers before paralysis set in. Now, she feels all of her already waning optimism seep out of her slowly, as through a tiny hole in an air mattress. After a while the numbers don’t even make sense – they might as well have been entered into her spreadsheet by a baby mashing her fists on a keyboard. When she senses Paula, her boss, standing in front of her, she forces herself to pull her eyes away from the screen.

“Katriina,” Paula says. “Are you okay? You don’t look so great.” Her brow knits together under a straight-cut fringe of mahogany-coloured bangs. She is wearing a long black skirt and a gauzy printed kimono-type thing that hangs below her knees and falls open in front to reveal several heavy necklaces dangling over her ample chest. Just thinking about it makes Katriina start to sweat.

“I’m fine, just a little tired,” Katriina says, trying to appear like she is fine, just a little tired.

Paula picks up the mug at her desk. “You’re not drinking coffee, are you? That will just make it worse, you know.”

She smiles meekly at Paula. “You think so?” Tell that to ninety-nine percent of Canada.

Paula grabs Katriina’s arm, her wrists jangling with bangles. “Come with me,” she says. “I’ll make you a tea that will fix you right up.”

In Paula’s office, Katriina sits in an armchair upholstered in a dark green velvety material while Paula plugs in her kettle. It’s a chair that encourages false comfort, to make the person sitting in it relaxed enough to buy. Paula may seem like a flake, but Katriina knows that you don’t become as successful in this business as Paula has been by being flaky. Underneath all that earth mother stuff, Paula is shrewd. Not that she doesn’t like Paula – she does – but she would still like to get out of her office as quickly as possible.

“There,” says Paula, placing a thick pottery mug in front of her. “Siberian ginseng tea. It will boost your immune system and make you more mentally alert.”

Katriina takes a sip. It tastes like dirty socks. “Thanks,” she says.

Paula perches on the arm of the couch opposite the armchair and studies Katriina’s face. “You know I’m here for you, right, Katriina?”

“Of course,” says Katriina. “You’ve always been a great friend and mentor.” She takes another sip of the tea. “I’ve just got a lot on my plate right now.”