Chapter Text
Previously…
Isabela was frozen.
Frozen in shock?
Probably.
Frozen in fear of what they would find under that rubble?
Absolutely.
Dust was still rising from what was left of their home, swirling upwards, and disappearing into the sky.
Her family stood there, shell shocked and silent, staring at what was left of their beloved Casita.
Everything was silent, save for the sounds of their ruined home still collapsing in on itself.
And her mamá's distressed cries.
Her mamá was struggling against her hermanita and her papá, the only thing keeping her from barreling into the still collapsing house.
"No! NO!! LET ME GO!" Isabela had never seen her mamá in such a feral state before. "LET ME GO! Mí bebé-mí bebé, she needs me! Sh-she needs me! She-she's all alone under there, she needs her mamá! LET GO OF ME!! MIRABEL!!!"
"Amor, please, stop struggling!"
By that point, Luisa had let go of their mother. She stood there, frozen, her eyes wide in a combination of shock, fear, and horror.
Tía Pepa had her hands over her mouth, her eyes shining with unshed tears and trepidation.
Dolores took little Antõnio away, a wise choice. He wouldn't have to see his favorite prima being pulled out of rubble.
As they walked away, Isabela could hear him say, "Where's Mirabel? Is she ok? Where are we going…"
Their voices faded.
Her abuela couldn't seem to figure out where to fix her gaze. Her eyes flitted from her ruined home, to her family, until they finally landed on her usually composed, soft spoken, eldest daughter.
Isabela studied her grandmother. She was staring at her mamá, as if she was remembering something. As if she'd lived this once before.
She made a move to comfort her daughter, her arms out, her mouth open, as if she was getting ready to speak.
That was, until pá turned his head sharply in her direction, and shot her a glare so deadly, it sent shivers down Isabela's spine.
Isabela remembered a passage she'd read in school a long time ago that had always stuck with her.
"One expression is worth a thousand words."
Her pá's could be summed up in twelve.
He looked at her abuela as if to say, "Don't you dare take one more step, or so help me God…"
Abuela slumped, defeated. Her mouth snapped shut, her arms fell limply at her sides. She took two hesitant steps back, her face grim.
Maybe it would've been better if she was dead.
Agustín’s arms were wrapped fully around their mamá's waist. Her tiny hands were desperately clawing at his larger ones, still in a desperate bid to force herself out of his grip and run full force into the house, but to no avail.
"Amor, the house is still falling! It's too dangerous to go in right now!"
"No! Agustín, let me go!! Mí bebé needs me! Por favor, let me go, let me go, let me go!!!"
"Amor-"
"-Mirabel!"
In a shocking turn of events, their papá sighed, closed his eyes, gave up, and let go.
Their mamá sprinted full force into their ruined home, their pápa right on her heels.
"MIRABEL!!!!"
"Julieta, slow down!"
Nothing would stop their mamá y papá from being with their bebé.
Especially their mamá.
Except for one thing.
No. No, Isabela, you can't think like that. Mira is going to be fine. Just fine.
She had to be.
She just had to be.
I just got her back, I can't lose her now.
They all stood there, waiting with bated breath, for Mirabel to walk out of the ruins hand in hand, with both of her parents.
But some things just aren't meant to be.
Because not even 5 minutes after they barreled into the remains of their home, the screams came.
The sound of her mamá's heart-wrenching wails would haunt Isabela, long beyond her grave.
If only I knew, what I know today…