I toss my purse on the stand near the door and take off my coat, hiding a sigh.

My roommate, Misty, continues yelling at me from her spot on the couch. “I know you’ve been working long hours lately, but this is ridiculous, Layla. I have been waiting up all night for you!”

I roll my eyes, my back still turned to my roommate. “Why are you waiting up for me?”

When I turn around, Misty pauses, her eyes roaming over my outfit. “What the hell are you wearing?” she says.

I glance down at the scrubs I stole from the hospital, which I’m still wearing with the kitten heels I started the day in. “Oh. Um. I was…” My brain scrambles to come up with a reasonable explanation. “I’m trying on a Halloween costume.”

Misty lets out a high-pitched laugh. “Ha! You? As a doctor?”

This is exactly the kind of bitchy, condescending thing that makes Misty so unpleasant to live with. I don’t really have the energy to debate whether or not I’d be a good doctor. I’ve had a bad night. Probably the worst night I’ve ever had in my life.

A night that seems like it somehow didn’t happen…

When Misty stops laughing, she says, “Whatever. I need to talk to you.”

I glance at the clock. “Misty, it’s almost one a.m. I’m exhausted. Can this wait until tomorrow?”

“Absolutely not,” Misty says. “This is important. It’s like, urgent.”

I am not in the mood for whatever Misty has to throw at me. She’s probably going to accuse me of using her Tupperware or something. Moving her milk to a different part of the fridge. Breathing too loudly. Or maybe she wants me to pay for the single cup of coffee I made with her Keurig last week. She’s charged me for it before. I wish I could have ended up with a roommate who was even just a little bit good to live with. I’ve only lived here with her for a couple of months, and I spend most of my time avoiding her. Any goodwill I had at the beginning is totally gone.

“Okay, what is it?” I say a little impatiently.

“Okay.” Misty sits up a little straighter. “I’ve got good news and bad news. Which one do you want first?”

“The good news,” I say. I take a few steps into the room, then fold my arms and lean against the wall. I know I’ve got to just get this conversation over with before I can collapse into my own bed.

“Well, the good news is…my boyfriend and I are going to have a baby!”

This is not what I expected Misty to say. I blink at her a few times, and it takes me a minute to formulate a response. “Oh. Wow. Congratulations. You’re pregnant?”

Misty laughs lightly, then shakes her head. “No, no. We’re trying to get pregnant. Actually, we just started tonight.” Misty winks at me, and I cringe internally. “David is waiting for me in my room right now. I’m in that crucial ovulating week when we can do it. We just googled it.” Misty lays a hand over her belly with what I assume is supposed to be a maternal smile, and I want to scream.

“Cool,” I finally say.

“We thought you should have a heads-up as we start to get ready for the baby,” Misty says. “Especially since the month is almost up.”

I’m confused. Do they need me to be a part of this process…?

“That gives you a week,” Misty finishes.

My thoughts screech to a halt.

“Wait. A week? A week to do what?” I ask.

“Well, we’ll need your room for the baby.”

This can’t be happening. I practically stutter my next sentence. “But you’re not—you’re not even pregnant yet. And even then, there’s nine months after that.”

Misty stands and gives me a condescending smile. “Well, no. Not yet. But we have to prepare! I mean, decorating a nursery takes forever! Waaaaay more than nine months. We want to get started right away. On the nursery, I mean.” Misty winks again.

I stare at the floor for a moment. “I don’t understand what you’re saying,” I reply. “You’re telling me that I need to move out?”

“In a week,” Misty says. I stare at her, and she tilts her head in mock apology. “That’s the bad news.”

“You’re…you’re throwing me out?”

“Of course not!” Misty takes a step toward me. “I’m giving you a week. That should be plenty of time. And it’s just that…well, it is my parents who own this apartment. Not yours.”

Her words knock the wind out of me. Misty isn’t necessarily the kindest person on earth, but this is low, even for her. I feel my jaw fall open, and anger bubbles up in my center.

“Oh,” she says, looking carefully at me. “Sorry. Sore subject, I know. I didn’t mean to imply that you don’t have any family or anything…”

I hear myself growl in hurt and frustration. I’m well aware of my own family situation—or the total lack of family. And so is Misty. She’s never brought it up before, and I’m shocked that she’s bringing it up now. She isn’t fighting fair.

I close my eyes and try to slow my breathing. Talking about family shit right now will not help the current situation. The current situation is that I am apparently supposed to find a new place to live within one week. I’m supposed to find a place, apply, pay a deposit, pack my stuff, and move, in seven days. I think back to the months it took me to find a place close enough to work that was still within my price range. Finding another place within a week is going to be impossible.

“Misty,” I say slowly. “I had a really hard time finding this room. I’m not sure I can find another in one week. Can you please give me a little more time? Two weeks, even?”

Misty shrugs. “No. Sorry.” I’ve never heard anyone sound less sorry in my life. She glances behind her shoulder down the hallway. “Okay, I gotta go. David’s waiting for me. And I’m ovulating like, this exact moment!” She starts to turn, but I reach out and grab her arm. Her eyes widen for a moment, and then she tries to wrench herself free. I don’t let her go.

This isn’t the kind of thing I would ever do, but I can feel the fury and intensity of the whole terrible night building up in me. Everything from Miles being an asshole in Victoria’s office, to the terrifying attack, to the threat of talking to the police at the hospital. I tighten my grip on Misty’s arm and speak through gritted teeth.

“You can’t just dump this on me, okay? I need at least a month. I demand at least a month.”

“What are you doing?! I don’t have a month! We need the room as soon as possible!” Misty tries to yank her arm out of my grip again, but my hold is strong. When she can’t escape for the second time, she looks up at me with fearful eyes. “Layla, you’re hurting me!”

Misty’s words do nothing to quiet the rage coursing through me. “Well, you’re hurting me!” I yell back. “You’re throwing me out with nowhere to go!”

I hear movement down the hallway, and Misty’s boyfriend David rushes into the room. He’s wearing plaid pajama bottoms and no shirt—obviously waiting for Misty to come to bed so they can get started on their baby-making plan.

“I heard yelling! What’s going on?” he says.

I turn and glare at him. I don’t know where this strength is coming from, but for once in my life, I don’t back down. I think of all the times I wish I could have stood up to Miles, to Misty, to so many people in my life, and I realize suddenly that I’m standing up for myself now. The thought gives me a fresh wave of power, and I grab Misty’s other arm, forcing her to face me.

“I signed a lease for six months,” I growl, my face inches away from hers. “It’s only been two. I am a good roommate. I’m clean and respectful. I deal with your loud music and your food labels and your charging me for coffee, and I deal with your damn sex sounds! Do you know how much noise you two make when you’re having sex?! It’s disgusting.”

Misty’s eyes dart frantically toward David, who’s frozen in place, watching this scene unfold before him. “Call the cops!” Misty says. “I’m being assaulted!”

David remains still for a moment, then he furrows his brow and strides forward. He grabs my arm, trying to break my grip on Misty. In my fury, I release Misty and turn and shove him as hard as I can.

To my shock, David flies across the room and crashes against the nearest wall, before crumpling into a heap on the floor. After a moment, he shakes his head and looks up at me in shock.

I look down at my hands, then back up at Misty and David, who are both staring at me.

What the fuck was that?