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Pearl found it in the middle of the woods.
She wandered as far as her feet would take her, burned and frostbitten as they were. The wounds never healed, did they? The pain had gone down to a dull thud, like a heart that refused to stop beating long after it had decayed.
Double Life had been a place of autumn leaves and the first snowfalls of winter, but here, spring was in full bloom. The cottage seemed more vibrant than ever. She felt out of place here. Bloody and charred and scarred in more ways than one. By the time she was red, the cottage had been long gone. The only red in here besides her were the poppies on the windowsills. She liked to joke that Scott didn't forget, but maybe she didn't either.
Pearl traced her hands along the walls and felt their warmth. It felt like only yesterday she was trading with Scar, narrating through a spyglass, or laughing with-
It was odd, really. She remembered the walls being so much larger when she lived here. But maybe she had just stopped feeling so small. Maybe she had grown out of this place.
Or maybe not. After all, when she felt she had nowhere to go, this was where her path led. It didn't feel like home, but it did feel like the beginning. The foundation. Pearl wasn't sure if it was a good one.
She found herself in the house, empty as it had always been. If she went downstairs, she knew she would find their basement, fully stocked. They had always been busy. If they weren't farming they were building, brewing, hunting, or negotiating. It had felt easy to be busy. To move instead of talk.
Pearl thought he loved her. She remembered loving, and being loved in return. He did win for her, with her heart beating in his chest. And yet, maybe he had won because the dead, smiling Pearl of his memories was more palatable than the alive one who bared her teeth and fought back. With him, love hurt. It was bandages on her skin as an apology, but barbed wire tightening around her heart.
Pearl didn't regret living in the cottage. She didn't regret giving her heart away. But she wished she had not lost her spine along with it, too. Did he know it hurt? He had to. She didn't remember saying anything, because why would she? It was normal. In the end, it didn't matter. The inhabitants of the cottage were long dead, and they were better for it. She was not the same Pearl who had lived and died here. If she saw her, she would tell her what it meant not to just be loved, but be respected too.
Pearl turned to leave. There was a new game to play. New stories to make and never truly end.
She forgave herself. And she forgave him too. After all, Pearl knew in her heart of hearts that they would both come back. Winter would fall, and Spring would rise again.
Pearl just prayed that this time, Scott had learned just as she did.