Feathers in the Wind
She hated to argue, hated it more than anything. Whenever one started, Farina would scream and Florina would cry, and Fiora's nerves would fray and fray until finally they snapped and she said things she regretted saying.
She remembered only snatches of the final one.
("…tired of this shitty house!")("Sharing every last crumb of bread!")("Nothing ever gets done!")("You don't even try!")("It's like you don't care!")("You're not my mother!")("Shut up and do something if bothers you so much!")("Do something with what? We don't have anything!")
A smattering of thoughts and words and tears as Farina had screamed and Florina had cried and Fiora simply gave up.
In the end her sister had wanted something Fiora could never give her: stability.
("If you don't like it, then just leave!")
So Fiora had come home one evening to find Florina unattended, and Farina's things gone. For the first time in many years, she had cried.
Never in her life had she felt such despair as she had then; even when they'd had nothing to eat, even when they'd had to bring snow inside to let it melt for water…at least they had been together, a family.