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There was something wrong with her brother.
Pearl knew. She noticed everything, even the things they tried to hide from her.
For her own good, they said.
This was something else, though.
And it wasn't just his injuries, either. It was definitely more than that, it was something inside of him.
Pearl didn't know what is was. She just knew... that it was.
And she was sensible enough not to ask him straight out as she usually did.

Before the fire, Pearl used to tease her brother about his lady friend, Sicily. She sincerely liked Sicily, which was the reason she felt so free to tease. And besides that, in her own little-sister way, it was a method to get him back for all the time he spent teasing her--not that she really minded it; she was a good sport. But all the same, there was something, something that told her--indirectly--that her brother was in love.
With Sicily.
She teased him mostly for the fact that he always called her "Miss Moore." Pearl thought that was silly; they were all good friends now, weren't they?

But things changed.
They had changed--after that horrible fire.
But it was more than the fire itself. Corran had changed. And it bothered Pearl.

After Theo had left and gone into the army--and as yet they'd received no correspondence from him--after that, she and her brother had become closer. Maybe it was through Sicily. But they used to talk about--everything and anything together.
Now they never talked.
At dinner Corran was silent--that is, when he came to dinner. And they never had their tea together anymore.
Things had changed.
Pearl kept one eye and one ear open in order to discover--observe--anything that could help her understand what was going on, what was wrong.
That is, one eye and one ear when they weren't both glued to her schooling; her governess was a no-nonsense woman and rarely allowed time for observation.
Reading and writing and art. She hated mathematics. And Corran used to take her out at night to look at the stars--but that never happened anymore.
"You brother was injured--he is an invalid. Give him time to recover, Pearl," her governess told her.
Give him time.
If it were up to him, Pearl thought, he'd take all the time in the world and I'll be eighty when he finally decides to STOP being an invalid.

And Pearl hated trying to be patient. It took too much energy.