Through my Darkness

— Pierce’s POV —

The wind was sharp that morning—sharp enough to scrape at the bones, sharp enough to make a person feel hollow. Pierce sat hunched on the park bench like a crumpled silhouette, coat thin, face pale, hands shoved deep into her sleeves as if she could find warmth somewhere inside herself. Once bright with purpose, her eyes stared blankly ahead—half at the pond, half at nothing at all. Her stomach growled, but she’d long grown used to the sound. It had been days since she’d eaten a proper meal. Her lips were dry, her skin dulled with the dirt of exhaustion and streets, but it was her silence that spoke loudest—full of a grief too heavy to carry, and too stubborn to leave behind.

She didn’t see the car at first.

It pulled up quietly along the curb. A black sedan. The kind that belonged to lives more orderly than hers now. The door opened and closed gently, and then came the sound of heels—not rushed, not uncertain. Confident. Familiar.

"Pierce?"

She turned her head slowly. The name, spoken in that voice, cracked something inside her.

There she stood—Mrs. Anna Evans, tall, elegant, wrapped in a wool coat the color of ash and grace. Her eyes, sharp as ever, widened not with judgment, but something gentler. Something painful. Recognition—and disbelief.

“My god,” Anna whispered, stepping closer, “what on earth… what happened to you?”

Pierce opened her mouth, but no words came. Her throat was thick with embarrassment, her pride bleeding out through the holes life had poked into her.

Anna didn’t wait. She knelt beside the bench without hesitation, reaching out but not touching yet—watching her carefully, respectfully. “You shouldn’t be out here like this. Come with me.”

Pierce flinched at first, unsure if her own shame would allow her to move. But something in Anna’s tone, a softness beneath all the steel, reminded her of warmth. Of safety. Of who she used to be.

Minutes later, she found herself in the back seat of that car, the heat turned high. The silence between them wasn't awkward—it was full. Full of things left unsaid. Full of memory.

Anna’s mansion loomed like a fortress, but inside, it was nothing but warm light, scented air, and space to breathe. Pierce stood uncertain in the foyer, her shoes dripping on the marble, and her arms wrapped around herself like armor. Anna said nothing about the dirt or the smell. Instead, she guided her to a guest room with a gentle hand.

“Take a bath. There are fresh clothes laid out. Then come upstairs—I’ll have something ready for you to eat.”

Pierce didn’t know how to answer. Didn’t know how to be grateful without crumbling. She only nodded, and let herself disappear into the bathroom.

Later, with steam still clinging to her skin and the softness of cotton on her back, she sat on the edge of a plush bed while Anna returned with a tray—soup, bread, something warm and real.

“You don’t have to tell me everything now,” Anna said, placing the tray on her lap. “But I want to understand.”

Pierce hesitated, staring down at her hands. “It’s a long story.”

“I’ve got time.”

She swallowed. “Umm... My landlord kicked me out. Said I owed two months of rent, and I didn’t have it… The company I worked for hasn’t paid me in two months either. They promised they would—especially since I was on approved leave. I… I went to find someone. My long-lost sister. I used up everything I had, and now…” She trailed off. “Now I have nothing left, nowhere to go.” She sighed.

Anna was quiet for a long moment. She nodded but didn’t interrupt. Then she sat beside her, the tray between them.

She nodded slowly; her gaze thoughtful. “I can’t imagine how hard that must’ve been. But, you’re not someone who gives up. And I won’t let this be the end of your story… you’re not alone.”

“I don’t want pity,” she whispered. “I just need time to figure things out.”

“I’m not offering pity. I’m offering a place to breathe,” Anna said gently. “The room you’re in—it used to be my daughter’s. She’s married now. Lives far away. That room’s yours for as long as you need. You can stay, recover, get back on your feet. Then you can decide what to do next. No pressure.”

Pierce didn’t respond right away. Her pride battled with her exhaustion. But Anna wasn’t just anyone. She knew Pierce. She had seen her at her strongest—and she still saw her now.

“Okay,” Pierce finally murmured. “Just… for a little while.”

Anna smiled, the kind of smile that made things feel less heavy. “As long as you need."

Okay, here’s the tea…

So… we meet Pierce at her lowest point. homeless, hungry, freezing on a bench (yeah, not exactly a Pinterest morning).

Life: Let’s bully her some more.

Enter Mrs. Anna Evans—pulls up in heels like Batman with better fashion 🦇✨ aka the lifesaver Pierce didn’t know she needed.

This chapter is basically: bench of despair ➝ unexpected rescue ➝ soup saves lives.🍲

More drama to come, promise. Stay comfy. Things are only getting messier and warmer🥣💙