It's okay that he doesn't quite get it... it's confusing as hell, even to Heather, and even SHE can't quite explain it right. Which is really saying something, because, more than anyone, she knows what happened.
But at Cooper's little hypothesis (which happens to be correct), she nods.
"Exactly. I was whole."
It had been rough for Harry ... slowly but surely realizing that the baby he'd brought home was not his beloved Cheryl and never would be, not truly. Hard for him to keep smiling when a scruffy little five-year-old Heather would come scurrying up to him excitedly chattering, "Daddy, remember when...?" and then reciting a memory that had happened eight years before, when Cheryl had been five.... with no idea that it had happened in another life.
In the same way that Cheryl had been different than her tortured half lying in captivity in Silent Hill, Heather had turned out different than EITHER of her two previous, separated selves... same person, different life. Different chances.
And being the whole of two halves, of course.
Cheryl had still been there... was still there, even now. But it still wasn't the same.
"Heather... I don't remember why I picked it. Dad let me choose a new name, when we went into hiding. I must've been... what, five?" She pauses thoughtfully, then lets out a dry chuckle. "I guess I just thought it was pretty."
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But at Cooper's little hypothesis (which happens to be correct), she nods.
"Exactly. I was whole."
It had been rough for Harry ... slowly but surely realizing that the baby he'd brought home was not his beloved Cheryl and never would be, not truly. Hard for him to keep smiling when a scruffy little five-year-old Heather would come scurrying up to him excitedly chattering, "Daddy, remember when...?" and then reciting a memory that had happened eight years before, when Cheryl had been five.... with no idea that it had happened in another life.
In the same way that Cheryl had been different than her tortured half lying in captivity in Silent Hill, Heather had turned out different than EITHER of her two previous, separated selves... same person, different life. Different chances.
And being the whole of two halves, of course.
Cheryl had still been there... was still there, even now. But it still wasn't the same.
"Heather... I don't remember why I picked it. Dad let me choose a new name, when we went into hiding. I must've been... what, five?" She pauses thoughtfully, then lets out a dry chuckle. "I guess I just thought it was pretty."