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March 23, 1885

It’d been over a year since Margaret had asked Ellis to take to sleeping in his office.

He didn’t.

Ellis still took his place in the bed next to Margaret every night; and she said nothing. Not a word to him at all. They kept their distance. Margaret had slowly began to feel herself falling out of love with the man she called her husband, but she hadn’t been able to tell if Ellis had felt the same. If Ellis too had been falling out of love with her. Margaret hope he had. She wouldn’t even be hurt if he had. It would make her feel better, maybe; or she thought it would.

Yet, on March 23 -the night Margaret had been overjoyed for as she was to spend it with Catherine and Diana- Ellis kissed her.

Margaret pushed her husband away after realizing what he’d been doing. She couldn’t formulate her thoughts at that moment tho to describe how she felt. How she didn’t want to feel like that; how she didn’t want Ellie anymore. So, until she could compress he thoughts and feelings into something she could say, Margaret locked herself in the bathroom and simply told Ellis to tell their daughters something.

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February 18, 1885

Flora had never been close to her mother.

She had barely any memories of time she spent with her mother when she was younger. Most of her early memories are far between and not detailed out completely in her head, but she could recall most of her time being spent alone. Well, she had bear, but no mother nearby. Flora hadn’t minded at first- she hadn’t noticed it was a weird occurrence at first. But then her mother began spending time with Winifred. While Flora taught herself everything she needed to know, her mother would teach Winifred. Even worse, her mother would have fun teaching Winifred and be excited to teach Lavinia and Phoebe with Winifred.

Flora felt second; second to Winifred. Both in her mother and fathers eyes. Of course Floras father often locked himself in his office to the point it was rare for him to even appear to love a child of his, but when he came out for dinner he would always strike up his conversation with Winifred first. Not Flora or even his wife- just Winifred.

When Flora was given the chance to converse with her mother, it was always rough. To keep it simple, they didn’t get along. Floras mother didn’t seem to think she left Flora to raise herself, but instead sees it as Flora being too independent for her. Flora saw it differently. Very differently.

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January 2, 1885

“Well, a man can give me children and marriage. Adventure can’t give me that,” Winifred said, her tone playful but her thoughts and words she said being serious in all senses.

“You’re no fun. Pierre would travel with me,” Flora said- mentioning her friend from school, Pierre. He was the kid of two farmers so Winifred and Flora both knew he’d never be considered a suitor for either of them, yet Flora still became a close friend of his.

Winifred, knowing she is to marry a man because of her status and the fact she wants children, never wanted to befriend one of the boys. She had her friends -her girl friends- and they were enough. Besides, boys were messy. Girls were not. Well, her sister was messy, but most girls weren’t. Flora was just one of those odd cases.

Winifreds eyes rolled as she began to speak again, “Oh hush like you’re more fun than me,”. Then, the younger sister threw all the snow she could pick up in one hand at the older sister

“Hey!” Flora shouted. Although, she hadn’t sounded mad. No, more happy. Playful even.

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December 16, 1883

“...I believe it would be best if you took to sleeping on the couch or in your office for the time being...” No response. Ellis kept quiet. His arms more tightly wrapping around his body and he tried to think of what words he could form; what could he possibly say? Whilst his brains jumbled around and his silence stayed, Margaret kept her place. She stood near her husband- waiting. Waiting for the reply she wanted. The reply she needed.

Margaret liked when things were in place; when things lined up. For example, when there’s a mess things aren’t in place. They don’t line up. Margaret couldn’t handle that. She would clean everything, wear her gloves, do everything in her power to keep clean. Then, there was her marriage. It was a mess too and one she couldn’t clean so easily.

Ellis’ quietness remained as he headed back inside. He still hadn’t given a response. In fact, once he got inside, he acted like nothing ever happened. He went and cared for the girls. Played games with Flora, talked about books with Winifred, helped the twins put their toys away. All the while, Margaret sat on the stairs to Ellis’ house, running her fingers through her hair and biting down on her lip- hoping that she’d receive her response.

She never received her response.

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December 16, 1883

Margaret and Ellis had always had disagreements. Every marriage does. Margaret would want one thing for dinner, Ellis would want another. Margaret would want to name their second daughter Alice, Ellis would want to name her Winifred. There’d always be disagreements; and they could work through them. But then, Ellis ii death happened. It only brought up all those lost feelings from Charles’ death.

Margaret had sworn off having children- declaring herself a monster because she couldn’t seem to have a proper son. Ellis wanted to have more kids right away. Flora had already been 10 -nearing 11 now- and Ellis wanted to have all his kids before he would have to send young Flora off to finishing school. This was not just another light disagreements. It wasn’t even a disagreement that reached the level that the naming of their second daughter did. No, this time it was an argument. A argument that caused endless yelling from both parties.

Although they tried to keep everything away from the kids -typically fighting only in their room or Ellis’ office-, sometimes mistakes happened. They’d slip up. Start yelling their heads off in the living room and not relocate for privacy. December 16 was a time like that. The yelling begun in the family room and stayed in the family room.

And, despite the fact she was never one to pry, Winifred heard the argument; along with Phoebe. Everything in Winifreds heart told her to leave the second she heard the yelling. But she stayed. Her feet planted in the ground next to the family room archway.

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