time, tempers, and toss-up

I am a lot like my mother, in the way we both look too young for our age but also in the way our temper sits, bubbling vitrolic, tempting the gods to spill it over. How long can four people lived in such a closed space when two of them are so much alike, one has a leg broken in two places, and one craves the independence she just came from? How long indeed? My money’s on the two tempers coming to a sudden impromptu head. How long? This is day four.