Chapter Text
It had been a lovely day, and Agustin had wanted to spend it having some one-on-one time with his youngest. After breakfast, he immediately went to pick up his Miraboo from her highchair, notifying Julieta of his plans as he did. His wife simply pressed a kiss to his cheek lovingly as she began picking up their dishes.
Seeing her father making his way towards her, Mirabel’s hands immediately stretched out in yearning.
“Papa!”
The man unfastened the highchair’s buckle before lifting her up out of it. His girl’s arms automatically wrapped around his neck.
On the other side of the table, another little one was also reaching out. Upon seeing his cousin leaving, a cloud of dejection generated over Camilo, wanting to go wherever she was venturing off to. Agustin only noticed the boy when he made an audible whine. Whether it was from his daughters or his niece or nephew, he couldn’t stand to see any of them in distress.
“Ay hermano, is it okay if Camilo comes with us outside to play?” Agustin asked his brother-in-law as Pepa hadn’t come back from using the bathroom.
“Of course!” Felix grinned before turning towards his son.
"If you go outside with your uncle, will you promise to be on your best behavior?"
“I pr…promise!” Camilo nodded with enthusiasm, causing his father to chortle and ruffle up his dark auburn curls.
Felix grabbed his plate while Agustin came over to retrieve the boy. With his free hand, he unbuckled his nephew prior to picking him up.
“And up we go!” The man said in a cheerful tone, generating a giggle from Camilo.
Once outside, Agustin softly sat the toddlers on the concrete next to a wooden toy box. After some deep digging, he pulled out a fairy figure that his youngest always loved playing with, along with a toy they had recently gotten from the market, a matchbox car. He handed the car to Camilo, but just as he was about to turn to Mirabel, his nephew stuck the small object in his mouth.
The man quickly prevented the boy from sticking the piece of plastic any farther in and gently pried it away from his small fingers, breaking a string of slobber that had been connected between the toy and Camilo's lips.
"No, no, Camilo, you don't put it in your mouth."
"Here, watch me,"
Agustin placed the car down and ran it along the tiles, the wheels bumping over the cracks. Camilo observed with enticed eyes, and before long, he was reaching out to try it for himself. The man held out the toy for him, but at the last second he pulled it back, causing the boy to gaze up at his uncle in confusion.
“Now you won’t put this in your mouth, right?”
Camilo nods, outstretching his arms for the car again but just when Agustin’s about gives it to him he draws it back once more.
“You promise?”
“I…pr…promise, tío!”
The pianist smirks and hands his nephew the toy. Tiny fingers grasp it and the boy places the matchbox car down, mimicking what his uncle did, and thankfully didn’t put it back in his mouth.
Agustin turned around towards Mirabel, but his little girl was no longer beside him. His mind didn’t have time to process before he heard it.
Coughs.
He glanced up and what his eyes laid on would forever terrorize his soul.
His baby girl was hunched over in one of the flower beds and she was hacking up a fit. It was when she raised up during a break in the coughs that he saw what littered her lips.
“Mirabel!”
Not wasting another second, Agustin leaped up with lightning speed that would cause anyone to stumble. Actually, he did, but he got right back up, desperate to reach his daughter.
Upon seeing him, Mirabel reached out for her father, similar to the way she did earlier that morning, but this circumstance was dire. The man took a knee before throwing her over it and began bringing his hand down on her back repeatedly.
“Cough it up, Mira!”
Her little body coughed and coughed, desperately trying to eject the substance from her windpipe. Agustin lifted her up, but he only saw the same terror-stricken look lodged in her eyes. He grasped his little girl to his chest and began bolting back to Casita.
Halfway across the patio, Camilo was toddling towards them, having must noticed their absence. Barely stopping, the man swooped up the little boy before rushing into the kitchen. Fortunately, the first thing he spotted was his wife and sister-in-law, who were at the sink washing dishes.
“Julieta!”
Both sisters whirled around, eyes wide at the tone of his voice. Julieta’s grew even wider when she saw the state her daughter was in. She dropped the plate in the water and rushed over immediately, Pepa right on her tail. The man handed Camilo off to Pepa after Julieta had taken their daughter. Mirabel had begun hacking again when her mother snatched her up.
"It was dirt, but I don’t know how much she consumed!"
Just like he had done, his wife began bringing her hand down upon the toddler's back while the other arm supported the little body.
After the tenth smack, Mirabel ceased for a moment, and Julieta raised her back up. That split second of hope she had was soon doused when she got a look at her face. Mirabel’s eyes had rolled back into her head as well as her limbs had gone limp.
Julieta glanced up at her husband, his eyes just as horror-struck as hers.
“Go get Señora Flores!”
With how hastily Agustin moved across the kitchen, he nearly stumbled on the one step that elevated into the courtyard. Julieta wasn’t sure she had ever seen her husband run that fast, but she didn’t dwell as she soon resumed back blows, the pats growing ever more frantic.
“I’ll go get mama!” Pepa exclaimed, sprinting out with Camilo still in her arms.
After still having no luck, Julieta dropped to a knee and adjusted Mirabel over it before going back at it once more.
The woman who specialized in toddler care was on the other side of the village; she'd just hoped that she'd be home so that Agustin could bring her over straight away. She also prayed that Pepa remembered where their mother said she’d be this morning because she couldn’t recall for the life of her.
There was no one else here. Felix, her daughters, her sobrina, they were all out except for… but there was no way she would even remotely have enough time to climb his stupidly tall tower.
Could her brother have had a vision about this? He didn't. He would have warned her if he had known. Surely, he would have.
Too many emotions began to overwhelm her all at once, and the healer tried miserably to remain calm, but the more her eyes lingered on the unresponsive girl draped over her knee, the more she couldn’t help the few tears that slipped out.
Julieta was bringing her palm down for what seemed to be the hundredth time when she halted.
It hit her.
She and Agustin had met for lunch in town maybe a month or two ago. Other than them, there had been a solitary man and a mother with a little boy who couldn’t have been older than four. The boy had begun choking, and the healer had launched up to rush over to him, but someone else had beat her to it. That lone man took the little boy, then he…
Julieta lifted Mirabel off her knee before holding her up vertically, standing her on her feet. The woman’s heart was wretched at the way her daughter’s head dangled.
Next, she aimed to set her fist as close to the middle of the body as she could, just as the man did. The palm of her free hand went atop the other.
Then it was five thrusts. He did five exactly back-to-back.
Julieta wasn’t sure her heart could have sunk any deeper, but it did when nothing came out on the fifth thrust, but she quickly repositioned herself for another set. This time she applied more pressure and on the fifth one she applied the most.
Right after that thrust, Mirabel's body jerked.
A chunk of gooey substance expelled out of the child’s mouth, which then splattered down onto the kitchen floor. Her small brown eyes popped open and she began gasping, her body scrambling to inject oxygen.
As if on cue, the two-year-old began to let out an abundance of wails. Julieta stood back up, cradling the girl in a warm embrace. She didn’t stop herself from letting out her own cries as she wiped away sludge from the child’s mouth.
"It’s okay, it’s okay," the woman cooed, the back pats now gentle and measured. Her baby girl's arms encircle her neck, tears seeping into her apron. After wending her way over to the supply cabinet, Julieta grabbed an arepa. Mirabel’s grip tightened when she did.
A minute or two went by and her daughter began to settle down, but the woman kept repeating the phrase. At that point, she wasn’t certain if she was still trying to assure Mirabel or herself.