We have a second bathroom on an upper floor. The floor around the toilet is wet. It smells sweet. The wall is also damp. At the back is a free-standing bathtub with a colorful door on top. It's damp here too. A couple of architects arrive with workers. They inspect the damp. They think about how much the work would cost. I leave them alone so that they can discuss it. I go downstairs to C. The apartment really is very big. What will the architects and workers think? There are two small pieces of plastic waste on the stairs. I pick them up and throw them into a small bin. The second piece of plastic in a second bag. I wonder why we didn't take the architects around D. out of our house. I call C., who has called the architects. But I can't find her. I go back upstairs, wondering how much the work will cost. €20,000? Do I have to get a second estimate? Do I even have time or does the work need to be done quickly? There's something lying on the floor like a goldfish wedged under a grate. Then I see that it's not a real fish. The architect is young and standing in the room. He's wearing black leather trousers. We sit down at a table. He says something about putting a gun to our chest with the cost estimate. And something about € 4,000. I immediately refuse, outraged. I'm not going to let him put a gun to my chest. We say goodbye. Now I recognize S. among the workers, one of the workers who is always on our courtyard. Did I say no too quickly? Are they possibly working with D.? Was the price of € 4,000 actually good? I go back down the stairs. M.’s walls here are unfinished. I go to D.’s. It's dark. I get on my bike, try to turn on the light, it stays dark, then the light goes on. Now I wait for her offer. Have I mishandled the situation?