Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

She was so close. She had been so close.

The vision, the promise, the hope… all of it had been within reach. She thought she was finally going to fulfill what she perceived to be her destiny. That night, during Antonio’s ceremony, she had been caught in a web of mixed emotions. She tried not to be upset or mad, she had done her best to not feel regret or sad, especially when she attempted to remind herself of the fact that her last name was Madrigal as well. She was fine, totally fine. She would stand on the side as they shined.

But that was a lie, and she couldn’t deny it anymore. She wasn’t fine. She hadn’t been for years now. 

Yes, she was proud of her beloved primito, particularly over the fact that his gift had been tailored to his interests. She knew that he would never have a boring day in life ever again now that he had his new animal friends. And he certainly would have his fair share of adventures in his magical room, with a door that showed the world that it could only belong to him. But that’s when she was reminded of the line drawn between the rest of the family and her as they all took their places for the family photo.

She had done her best to avoid such moments over the years, with varying degrees of success. However, that night proved to be special… because it cemented just how unspecial she was since no one seemed to remember that she was a Madrigal too.

But was that true?

After all, she couldn’t move the mountains like her older sister. She couldn’t make the flowers bloom like her eldest sister. She couldn’t heal what was broken like her mother. She couldn’t control the morning rain or a hurricane like her aunt. And most importantly, she couldn’t keep down the unspoken invisible pain like they all could. With all this in mind, could she really call herself a Madrigal?

Whatever the case, she did know something, and that was the fact that she couldn’t take another night up in her room waiting for a miracle. She was always waiting, always walking alone, always wanting for more, like she was still at that door longing to shine like all of them shined.

But to accomplish such a task, she needed a change. She needed a chance, that’s all she was asking for. Why couldn’t anyone see that? Why couldn’t they open their eyes? If she had been given magic like the rest of her relatives, she would do so much. She would move the mountains, make new trees and flowers grow, heal what was broken, and show this family something new. She wanted to show them all who she was inside. She was ready! She was more than ready! Heaven knows she had been patient, steadfast, and steady.

Bless me now as you blessed us all those years ago.

And that’s when she saw it. Them. The cracks.

Of course, no one had believed her when she spoke of their existence, something she still had some trouble comprehending. She knew that they had disappeared the moment everyone tried to bear witness to her claim, but she couldn’t understand why Casita would showcase their inner turmoil if they were just going to pretend as if it didn’t happen. She didn’t fault the house for their actions; however, she couldn’t deny that it didn’t exactly portray her in a positive light either, especially when everyone had to have known how difficult of a night it was going to be for her. She hated the gazes that had been directed towards her the moment she tried to make her case; it was a combination of pity, frustration, and confusion.

At the end of the day, Mirabel knew that everyone must have thought the worst of her. They seemed to believe that her actions to protect her home and the miracle were nothing more than jealously over the fact that everyone in the Madrigal clan had received a gift except her.

That couldn’t have been farther from the truth. However, she wouldn’t have time to dwell on for long since she would come to learn that some eyes hadn’t been entirely closed after all. Abuela Alma, Dolores, and Luisa, they all confirmed what she needed to know. And that was when she came to an important realization, perhaps this was her chance. This is what she was born to do, she would save the miracle and finally make her family proud. With that in mind, she set off on an important journey, one with many obstacles and misunderstandings, especially when it came to avoiding her family’s suspicions, but she could honestly say that it wasn’t just everyone’s eyes that needed to be opened. Hers did too.

With Luisa, she finally understood how her family’s gifts and legacy transformed from a blessing to a burden. With Bruno, she learned how the greatest of intentions didn’t always create the best outcomes. And then there had been Isabela, someone Mirabel never thought she could learn something new thanks to her or be able to share a common ground with like they had in the past. But sure enough, her big sister had surprised her as she shared a whole new side of her gift with her. All this time, Mirabel never realized how much she had been blind to regarding her own familia. They weren’t the flawless embodiments of perfection everyone had come to know them as, and they certainly weren’t as happy as they forced themselves to look. Even if she hadn’t meant to, Mirabel came to understand how she had taken her family for granted in the same way the townspeople had. For she had forgotten that at the end of the day, even with their magic and blessings, the Madrigals were still human. And being human meant that they were capable of breaking.

Su pobre familia, it turns out that they were just as guilty as her when it came to hiding the unspoken and invisible pain. She had no idea that having a gift came with such a heavy price. And as strange as it might have sounded, Mirabel couldn’t help but feel like for once in a very long time, she wasn’t alone. Or at least not as alone as she thought she was, because now she realized that she wasn’t so different from her beloved family after all. The pressures of perfection, the burden of not knowing when enough was enough, and living up to a legacy that had been bestowed through loss and sacrifice, could be too much at times. So much so that you can’t help but feel as if you just might break because of it all. Those cracks, they weren’t because the magic itself was fading, they must have appeared because they were reflecting the state of the people who had been given said magic. Casita has always given what was needed, whether it be shelter, materials and supplies, or company, but perhaps there had been more to them than just that. It had taken some time for Mirabel to understand but her Casita was more than just an extension of the magic, they were a living being too. And that meant that they could break as well, much like the rest of her family.

That’s what she realized as she embraced her eldest sibling and watched as the foreboding fissures began to slowly heal. A warmth unlike any other washed over her as her eyes wandered to the candle, only to see its eternal flame burn brighter than ever before. Mirabel Madrigal finally recognized what it would take to save the miracle, and how she could finally play a role in helping secure her grandfather’s legacy and their home’s future. All they needed was a new foundation, because stars don’t shine, they burn, and constellations shift. The world needed to know that the Madrigals were more than just their gifts, and lack thereof. She wasn’t the only one who needed a change or a chance, they all did.

Everything was coming to ruin, and yet it was finally getting better. That’s what she thought at least. 

And yet, here she was, on the receiving end of disappointment once more. However, even Mirabel couldn’t deny that this time felt different than the previous ones. This felt personal because she could feel nothing but raw tension emitting from the matriarch standing before her. In all her years of living, she had never seen Abuela Alma direct such an expression towards anyone.

“You have to stop Mirabel!”

She froze. Despite what many may believe, The Encanto’s leader had never raised her voice in such a manner when it came to her lineage, not even to Mirabel. She had always possessed a stern demeanor, but it never reached such a point.  

“The cracks started with you!”

No, they didn’t. If what Bruno said was true, then they had been in the process of showing for some time now. Not to mention that secret moment she bore witness to as her grandmother confided in her locket and the candle only cemented such a fact. After all, why would Alma utter such worries if she didn’t believe Mirabel during Antonio’s ceremony? She must have known or seen something beforehand. In fact, now that Mirabel’s eyes had been opened to the hidden struggles of her relatives and Casita’s inner battle to keep everything in balance, she could honestly say that the cracks had been born long before she even existed. The only thing she had ever done concerning them was being the first to notice and acknowledge them.

“Bruno left because of you!”

That wasn’t true. He left because people only saw the worst in him, over something he couldn’t even control. But he wasn’t anything like the image the world portrayed him as. He wasn’t this diabolical, menacing, or malicious presence that wished the worst for others. Rather, he was a kind, awkward and shy, yet selfless individual who worked to further the best interests of his family, even if it meant leaving everyone behind.

“Luisa’s losing her powers, Isabela’s out of control, because of you!”

That wasn’t possible. Luisa and Isabela had been succumbing to the pressure their gifts placed on them. Mirabel saw new sides to her strong and supposedly sturdy older sister and her perfect, golden child eldest sister. Both had been carrying way too much to different degrees, and when you took a closer look at it, it honestly had nothing to do with Mirabel. Mirabel wasn’t the one who kept nagging Luisa to accomplish impossible tasks without taking a break for herself every now and again. And Mirabel didn’t expect Isabela to be the image of flawless beauty 24/7 nor would she have minded if the eldest Madrigal grandchild grew something more than just flowers. 

“I don’t know why you weren’t given a gift, but it is not an excuse to hurt this family!”

Now that wasn’t fair.

Mirabel could handle being called giftless and being classified as not special compared to the other Madrigal members, but that was going too far. She didn’t know why she wasn’t given a gift either, she didn’t think she did anything wrong for that to happen. But it did, and she had to live with that confusion for the rest of her life. However, believe it not, that part hadn’t hurt her the most. What wounded her deeply was the idea that people truly thought she held some form of resentment or hate for her family just because she didn’t get a gift. And that couldn’t have been farther from the truth. Yes, they did have their differences and there had been a strain in their bonds with one another, but despite that, Mirabel never despised her family. She loved them more than life itself, they made her proud to call herself a Madrigal. Everything she ever did, she did for them, just so they could be proud of her too.

And yet, here she was, being accused of the worst by none other than the matriarch of her home and family. Alma Madrigal, a person she had worked so hard to prove herself to time and time again, couldn’t seem to open her eyes to that truth. In that moment, Mirabel found it difficult to believe that this was the same person who had taken her into her arms as she bestowed the story of their miracle to her all those years ago. How could this woman be the same individual who had spoke so lovingly to her as they made their way to her ceremony?

You are a wonder, Mirabel Madrigal. Whatever gift awaits, will be just as special as you.

She had said those words without any hesitation, and it was something Mirabel had taken to heart even after all these years. Back then she thought the adoration her grandmother had for her was endless. But now she wasn’t so sure anymore. Mirabel could find no uncertainty in her voice and her expression didn’t waver as she spoke such poisonous accusations. This was what her grandmother thought of her, these were the feelings she had kept hidden ever since the day of her failed ceremony. Abuela Alma had defined her family based on their gifts, and when Mirabel didn’t meet those expectations, she had labeled her based on that.

A failed gift ceremony… a failure. That’s what she was in the eyes of Alma Madrigal.

Tears welled up in her eyes, she felt as if her heart could crack in a similar manner to what her home was currently doing. However, her worries concerning her Casita didn’t hold any merit anymore since she found herself ignoring the growing fragments. Slowly but surely, the world around her became dull and barren, a darkness unlike any other consumed their normally bright and lively house. Mirabel felt her hands tightened into fists, her body shook as a storm of raw emotions swirled inside her, just waiting to come out. She wondered if this is what her Tía Pepa constantly battled on a day-to-day basis. If so, then the lessons she had been learning from her relatives gained even more truth. Mirabel thought being giftless meant that she wasn’t blessed, and it was seen as a curse to be the only ordinary member in an extraordinary family. She carried a heavy burden of wondering if she could even call herself a true Madrigal if she wasn’t like the rest of them. As a result, she assumed no one could possibly share her predicament. However, what she came to realize recently was at the end of the day, whether anyone wanted to admit it or not, gifts and blessings could become curses and burdens as well. Keeping everything inside was just a way of life for them, so much so that they didn’t even understand how doing so could be dangerous. Which is why Mirabel had been given hope, because now she understood how even if they lived their lives differently, they could be united through their unspoken and invisible pain.

However, Mirabel couldn’t find herself caring about any of that anymore. She had never been like the rest of her family, so why should she continue to follow that example, especially when the hurt was overtaking her at that moment. 

“I will never be good enough for you… will I?”

It was an honest question; one she had never asked anyone before, only because she was afraid of the answer. Besides, she wasn’t sure who she could trust with her innermost feelings, especially when she felt her relatives already had enough on their hands without her adding to that stress. The last thing she wanted was for them to get distracted just because she couldn’t keep it all inside like they could. However, she also couldn’t deny that there was more to it than just that.

Her parents did try their best to support her and reassure her she was perfect the way she was, but she questioned their methods and comprehension sometimes. She was sure that they loved her, and she loved them, however, there was no denying that no matter how hard they tried, they could never truly understand her position.

Papá had married into the family, he wasn’t born into it like her, therefore, he hadn’t been expected to receive a gift and he certainly wasn’t held to the same degree as those who shared the Madrigal blood. Agustín did everything in his power to ensure that his youngest had been included in the family’s chores and daily routines, but that produced mixed results. After all, a blood related Madrigal was expected to contribute to the cause in more grandiose ways, they weren’t supposed to be reduced to clean up duty or other menial tasks that could have been accomplished by just about anyone. And then there was the fact that his supposedly encouraging words and supportive comments could be innocently insensitive at times. Being careful wasn’t exactly her father’s strongest attribute after all, so she felt she couldn’t turn to him whenever she had her moments of doubt. It was simply easier to just keep it all inside, rather than confess to the hidden aches that pained her daily just so he could unintentionally confirm her greatest fears and worries.

Mamá’s position on the matter varied from her father’s, but it still hurt, albeit for different reasons. She didn’t doubt that her mother had good intentions, especially when it came to ensuring she was well cared for and treated properly, but there was something about Julieta that greatly troubled her. Julieta had been given the most manageable and beneficial power of them all, and yet, she tried to convince Mirabel that she was perfect without a gift. It would have been the equivalent of Isabela saying that appearances weren’t everything, what she said didn’t match her actions. And unlike her, her mother didn’t bear the shame of having a failed ceremony and constantly being reminded of how useless she was compared to the rest of the family. Besides, Julieta could only shield her for so long and from so much because her love didn’t just extend to Mirabel, but to Alma as well. For forty-five years Julieta had lived with the matriarch’s high expectations, to the point where she never questioned them or went against them entirely, no matter who they were directed towards. And that included her to the degree, which is why she felt she couldn’t trust her mother with her personal feelings. Once again, it was more convenient to just accept her mother’s supportive sentiments and hope for the best.

And there were her sisters, people that Mirabel couldn’t seem to recognize anymore. They had changed time and time again, to the point where Mirabel didn’t know if they even loved her. They had… once.

Isabela, a doting and protective eldest sibling who would lace her hair with an assortment of flowers and playfully dangle her high up in the air with her vines, now only seemed capable of looking at her with annoyance as an aloof aura consumed her whenever she tried to interact with her. They may have finally reached a common ground, but that moment couldn’t erase the memories of the past, especially when this confrontation only served to remind her how similar Isabela had been to Alma not so long ago. If Mirabel even attempted to ask Isabela such a question, she knew she would have been met with a scoff and a flick of her hair before Isabela would turn her attention to other matters.

 As for Luisa, a playful yet sturdy older sibling who liked to exercise using her sisters as weights but still had time to squeeze in a tea party or two, became a dedicated tool for the townspeople to the point where she honestly had no time for her anymore. Sometimes she wondered if Luisa even remembered that she existed at all, at least Isabela would spare her a distasteful glance every now and again, Luisa just allowed herself to be carried away once she heard a call for help. And even if she finally managed to reach Luisa, she couldn’t offer the kind of assistance Mirabel needed when it came to that question. Luisa relied on physical strength to offer a solution to someone’s problem, not emotional strength, which is what Mirabel needed more than anything.

With all of this in mind, she knew that none of them could ever give her a proper or satisfying answer to that haunting question, because deep down, she knew she had disappointed them in some way or another. She could only manage how stressful it was for her mother, the first golden child, to give birth to the only useless child of a gifted family, and how embarrassing it was for her father, a hardworking member of society, to spend all that effort into trying to convince everyone that his only unspecial child was special. She contemplated how often her sisters had to overexert themselves to compensate for her lack of a gift. It’s no wonder Isabela disregarded her, and Luisa overlooked her, she couldn’t contribute to their home and miracle in the same manner as they did. Which only served to prove how purposeless Mirabel was.

Her suspicions only seemed to be confirmed as her gaze wandered over to her half of the family. They had been standing off to the side this entire time, and they never tried to stop Alma or comfort her and reassure her that what she was saying wasn’t true. In that moment, Mirabel saw them for who they were. A caretaker that could heal what was broken, a hard worker who always contributed behind the scenes, a flower unlike any other, and a pillar of strength and support… they were everything that she could never be. And that only added to the blade that was currently piercing her heart now.

It appeared she wasn’t good enough for anyone.

“No matter how hard I try…”

She had done everything in her power to make her family proud. And yet none of that seemed to matter. It looked like everyone just wanted to see the worst in her, just like they had with Bruno. No one brought up how she had helped Antonio conquer his fears concerning his ceremony. No one brought up how brave she had to be to confront her previous trauma as she walked him to his door. No one brought up how she tried to protect the miracle by alerting them to the potential danger they were in. No one brought up how she had given Luisa a chance to finally confess her burdens and pressures. No one brought up how she did her best to cover up the cracks during the proposal dinner. No one brought up how she had encouraged Isabela to be honest with herself for a change. No one brought up any of the good she had done! All they saw was the worst!

So, what was the point of even trying anymore?

Mirabel clutched onto her skirt, a creation she had poured her heart and soul into. Every single stitch had held a story, and embodied all that her family was. A candle for her grandmother, a basket of buñuelos for her mother, piano keys for her father, flowers for Isabela, a dumbbell for Luisa, a sun and cloud for Pepa, an umbrella for Félix, musical notes for Dolores, a chameleon for Camilo, a jaguar and toucan for Antonio, and an hourglass for Bruno. She even created representations of herself on the fabric such as her face, her eyes and glasses, butterflies, and her name. It had been her way of portraying what she considered to be the best gift she could ever receive: her familia. It was a special kind of canvas that she once took great pride in, especially when she thought it was the only way she could show the world that she was apart of the amazing Madrigals.

When she didn’t receive a gift, she had a lot of time to contemplate her place in the magical and fantastical lineage. It also meant that she didn’t have a set schedule or a certain routine to follow daily, and usually Abuela Alma never assigned her specific chores for the day. As a result, she used that time to discover how she could contribute to the Encanto. After all, tasks like sweeping Casita’s hallways, especially after Isabela made her way through them, or washing the dishes and silverware, most of which were produced by Luisa and Camilo, just didn’t help her feel like she did anything of true value. At least Papá and Tío Félix had other ways to cater to the Encanto other than clean up duty. Papá assisted with construction projects by providing people with materials like wood and cement, he also took the liberty of calculating how many supplies they would need for the day, as well as drawing potential blueprints for the job. And when he wasn’t doing that, he would offer piano lessons to the people interested in pursuing musical ventures, or he would be enlisted to showcase his talents for special occasions. Not to mention that people tended to look for his assistance when it came to calculating their financials. Then there was Tío Félix, the man was quite handy with his tiple and tended go around the town, singing songs of merriment to help everyone start the day off with a smile. Another endeavor of his was teaching dance classes, a profession his padres had overseen during their time amongst the living. Much like her father, he was often found at festivities for these reasons. But every now and again, he tended to shift his focus to the livestock of their little paradise. He would assist their caretakers with their feeding, grooming, herding, and health records. And when nothing like that was on the schedule, he would usually assist Tía Pepa with her chores by ensuring that she never went overboard with her emotions.

And there was her, an anomaly. Through trial and error, she learned that there were a lot of chores she couldn’t perform, especially when someone could produce better results than her. She didn’t have a green thumb like her hermana mayor. She couldn’t respond to people in the same manner as her prima. She didn’t have enough discipline when it came to working in the kitchen like her madre. She couldn’t be everywhere at once like her primo seemed capable of doing. She struggled to carry a sack of potatoes whereas her other hermana could literally move mountains. She didn’t have a knack for ensuring perfect weather conditions like her tía. And she couldn’t predict outcomes like her tío was known for back when he was still part of the community. It seemed like every chore was taken care of thanks to the efforts of her hardworking familia.

However, there was a certain venture that caught her attention. One time Dolores had told her that there was a specific skill that didn’t originate from Abuela Alma. Rather, she had been taught this practice by none other than her late Abuelo Pedro. Apparently during their youth, he had been the keeper of a store that specialized in clothing, which included duties like sewing, tailoring, mending, dressmaking, and embroidering. However, he had only been able to teach her basic techniques, which she passed down to a few members of their family. But the need for it began to die out when magic started becoming an integral part of the community, and her grandmother thought it would be better if the Madrigals focused on the talents they had been blessed with rather than the talents they could learn. As a result, the only one who learned the skill were her mother, aunt, and uncle. Not even Señorita Perfecta herself had ever mastered such an endeavor since she had to focus her attention on creating flowers, not stitches. Luisa, while being a gentle giant who had a fondness for cute things, couldn’t control her strength sometimes when it came to handling smaller and more delicate objects like needles and fabric. As for Dolores, it was difficult to concentrate on performing tasks such as this when she had the whole world speaking in her ears. Camilo seemed like scuffing, tearing, and making a mess of clothes rather than fixing them. And Antonio hadn’t been born at the time, although he was still too young to develop an interest in the practice.

That’s how she discovered a passion that she thought could have contributed to the Encanto, it was a task no one else seemed capable of doing or could do. It took some time to master, especially when her mother could only teach her so much when she wasn’t busy with cooking and baking, but eventually, Mirabel thought she mastered the craft. Every now and again, people complimented her on her skills, some even asked for commissions. But it never seemed to be enough, because it still didn’t give her what she most desired.

Her entire wardrobe had been her way of showing how proud she was of her familia. But no matter how hard she tried, none of them seemed to be proud of her. And now, when she gazed upon the colorful stitches and threaded images, all she could see was a reminder of the lines drawn between them and her.

She hated this. She hated all of this.

But not as much as she hated herself.  

The world continued to darken as the jagged lines grew larger and spread deeper across every corner of the Madrigal household. But Mirabel just couldn’t find herself caring anymore. Everyone seemed to be convinced that she was only trying to hurt her family rather than help them. And if that’s what they thought, then what was the point of even trying to prove otherwise? Her eyes were open, and she could finally see that all this time she had been trying to be something she wasn’t. She didn’t know who she was anymore. But she did know what she was feeling and what she had, no, wanted to do.

She wanted this. And in a strange way, perhaps she had been waiting for this too.

And so, with a heart heavy with ache and a spirit burning with an array of emotions, she confronted those accusations head on. Her eyes pierced Alma’s as she stood stronger than ever before, her form never wavered, and her tone became firm as her mouth moved to utter the words no one ever thought would escape her lips.

Well, they thought wrong.

“I hate you.”

That was it. Three simple little words. Altogether they didn’t seem like much, but when they were crafted by someone like Mirabel Madrigal, it was as if the whole world had come crashing down.

And it was clear they their desired effect, Alma’s expression became dumbfounded the moment that statement had been uttered. Her eyes widened with disbelief, or at least that’s what it looked like. Her mouth agape, and a silent gasp leaked. In that moment, she didn’t look like the all-powerful and wise leader this whole town portrayed her as, or the matriarch whom her family had been so eager to obey and please. Instead, she appeared to be nothing more than the old woman she truly was… so withered, fragile, and broken.

However, Mirabel wasn’t interested in such a reception, nor was she concerned with the rest of the family’s reactions to her statement. She watched one of her mother’s hands hover over her mouth as tears started to leak from her eyes, they almost looked like rivers as they poured down her face. Her expression was that of a shattered individual, it’s almost like she was contemplating if what she heard was true. As for her father, he looked just as torn as his wife. His hand was clutched over his heart as his mouth stood wide open for all to see, it seemed to physically hurt him to see his youngest being reduced to such a state. Isabela and Luisa appeared to be frozen in place, but their faces conveyed a mixture of disbelief and suffering. It was clear that they hadn’t expected her to lash out in such a manner, especially when they never associated such negativity with their younger sister.  

Gasps echoed in the air, she couldn’t see who they belonged to; however, she was sure it had to be either Pepa, Dolores, or Antonio… or maybe it was a combination of the three of them. Whatever the case, Mirabel didn’t give them the time of day as she refused to turn to face them. Besides, they had no right to judge her now, not after all that had happened. Never in her life had Mirabel felt so detached from everything and everyone, and yet, it felt as if freedom itself was now her guide. It had given her the strength she needed to finally confront the source of her anguish and isolation, the reason she always tried so hard, and the reminder of what she would never hope to be. Alma had not held back with this confrontation, so why shouldn’t she extend that favor?

What she had done, it felt right. But she also thought that it was more than enough, for she could find no other words to say.

Even with that heartbreaking confession, the pressure she was feeling now hadn’t been relieved in the slightest. Any second now, it was going to make her collapse alongside the Casita if she didn’t act quickly. And so, her arms loosened, they gently fell to her sides as her gaze focused on the door that stood behind her grandmother. In that moment, everything seemed to go silent except for the harsh beating of her own heart. This world wasn’t wide enough for all of them, she knew what she had to do.

This was the calm before the storm, this was the eye of the hurricane.

Her legs moved into a proper stance and her eyes remained focused on the prize. Suddenly, her body was overcome with a newfound power she didn’t think she possessed. She took off. She pushed past Alma, not caring that the force was strong enough to knock her down. Another series of gasps erupted throughout the falling Casita, but Mirabel paid them no mind as she reached her destination. Her hand seized the handle for the last time, but not before feeling the familiar touch of her mother grabbing at her shoulder. Under normal circumstances, that may have been enough to calm her down. But now, it was nothing more than a pathetic attempt to keep her from falling apart. Mirabel scoffed as she slapped the maternal touch away. She closed her eyes, the tears she had been holding back finally escaped from their prisons. And with an ironclad grip, she tore the door open, but not before finally unleashing the final blow.

“I hate all of you!”

She hated Abuela Alma for showcasing how love was conditional, she proved that the best of intentions didn’t always mean a happy outcome for everyone.  

She hated Julieta for never having her priorities straight, especially when all she could provide was nothing more than empty promises and meaningless praises.

She hated Agustín for not having the decency to be more careful with his words and actions, he never understood how much of a profound, negative effect they had on her.

She hated Isabela for giving up on her so early in their childhood, she chose perfection and reputation over her own sister time and time again.

She hated Luisa for not doing more to remember that she existed, she could move the mountains, but she couldn’t spare a moment for younger sibling.

She hated Pepa for being so quick to place blame onto others, especially when all those people ever did was show her how much they loved her.

She hated Félix for never appreciating all that she did for his side of the family, he seemed to have forgotten that she was just as much of his family as he was hers.

She hated Dolores for discriminating against the information she heard, she only seemed to tell people what they wanted to hear rather than the truth itself.

She hated Camilo for being so indifferent to this entire situation, they had once been joined at the hip but were now practically strangers.

As for Antonio… she could never claim that she hated the child. Despite what some people liked to believe, she wasn’t jealous of her primito, and she wasn’t bitter over the fact that he had received a gift after her failed ceremony. Her Toñito was a special case because he had never wronged her in any way, and he always expressed the eternal love he had for her. However, she also couldn’t deny that some part of her was also afraid when it came to him, because could she really count on that devotion lasting forever? If there was one thing she learned regarding their family, it’s that the good memories always disappeared. Nothing was timeless. He had just acquired his gift, but how long would it be before he too would cast her aside just so he could focus on using his power to strengthen the community. She feared that he would become like the other Madrigal children, because no one had ever proven her wrong about the matter.

However, in the end it seemed like she would be the one to leave him behind first.

And Bruno… well… Bruno was Bruno… what was there to hate? Out of all her relatives, he had been the only one to regard her safety with importance. If there was anyone she would also regret leaving behind, it would be him. She was sorry she would never make her promise to him come true and that they couldn’t be a family once more.

Then again, Mirabel couldn’t say that they had ever been one to begin with.

Family was supposed to catch you when you fell and stand you up again. They were supposed to be by your side in seconds if you asked it, holding their arms out wide to welcome you to stay. They were supposed to be loyal and possess devoted hearts, with endless love to share. Such love was supposed to follow you everywhere. Wasn’t that how the miracle came to be in the first place? Hadn’t her Abuelo Pedro been the embodiment of such enchantment? Abuelo Pedro had loved his familia so much that he sacrificed his life and a future with them, just so they could have those things and experience them for themselves. Mirabel couldn’t help but it ironic how her relatives, people who had been blessed with magic and made it their mission to help those around them, couldn’t extend that purpose to her… their own family.

With that in mind, it was settled, other than Antonio and Bruno, she truly hated them all, especially herself.

With that, she slammed the door behind her, and she ran as far as her legs could carry her. She could feel the vibrations of the cracks as they made their way throughout the land, but she still couldn’t find herself caring about them anymore. Mirabel felt so stupid for thinking that she could stop these fissures, especially when she should have known that no one would ever give her the time of day. She lived in this place for so long, she knew all the faces, each one was different, but they always ended up being the same regarding her. It was time that she faced it, they would never allow their minds to change when it came to her existence. She paid no attention to the people or structures she passed; their visages became nothing more than blurs as she worked her way towards freedom. However, even with the great speed she was demonstrating, she still managed to catch glimpses of the expressions on the crowd’s faces. Most were confused, some looked shocked, and others showed a hint of betrayal. However, their attention was soon diverted to another display of horror. Mirabel could hear the screams of anguish, the shouts of panic, and the scurrying of bodies. However, there was something else that caught her attention, and it took a lot of strength and self-control for her to not turn back at the familiar sounds of rocks, bricks, wood, and tile crashing down.

With that, she knew that her former home had fallen. Memories started to flood her mind as her heart’s shattered state only became more fragmented with the very thought of her family experiencing yet another loss. First, Abuelo Pedro had been taken away from her grandmother, mother, and tíos, then Tío Bruno had disappeared without a saying goodbye, and now Casita, their lively house had joined them. But it wasn’t just Casita’s demise that hurt Mirabel, it was also the significance of what that collapse meant. The magic must have vanished, the doors must have stopped glowing, the rooms must have lost their infinite spaces, and her relatives must have been as powerless as her now. It was all gone, everything that her grandfather had created with his sacrifice had been in vain. All she wanted was to make them proud, instead, she had brought them to ruin. And that’s why she couldn’t turn back, she knew that there was no place for her there anymore. But then again, maybe there was never one for her to begin with. Slowly, but surely, she felt herself no longer belonging to the Encanto, especially when she reached the surrounding forest of the formerly magical town.

But she still refused to look back, even as she entered the brush. Immediately, she was greeted by an assortment of branches and rocks. They hit her person, scratched her skin, tore her clothes, and ripped off some pieces of her hair. And yet, despite the obvious physical pain she was subjecting herself to, it paled in comparison to the emotional hurt that continued to rage inside her.

Mirabel Madrigal was so lost in her suffering, that she didn’t even see the small golden butterfly following her trail.

Chapter Text

The cracks had led her to the boundaries of the Encanto, ironically, they had acted as her guide through the forest. She didn’t even realize she had been following them until they reached the base of one specific mountain. And for the first time since her dramatic sprint, she came to a full stop.

Despite knowing that the cracks had completely overtaken her former home, she was still surprised to see how far their influence branched. She couldn’t help but gasp over how powerful such a negative force could be, she had truly underestimated the foreboding presence. It had cleanly sliced through the rocky formation, almost as if there had never been a barrier before. The outside world was now threatening to spill in, and its impact could very well turn the tides of the formerly isolated town.  

Ever since she was a little girl, she had heard how difficult it was for the community to exit the Encanto’s boundaries… but she also recalled learning how tedious it was for outsiders to try and enter its premises as well. And yet, that obviously wasn’t the case anymore. It seemed that anyone could enter the Encanto… as well as leave it. Mirabel stood before the split formation, despite their origin, she couldn’t help but admire how large it was compared to everything else. For all her life, she had been led to believe that the Encanto was indestructible, impenetrable, and everlasting. How many times did her family and her must be reassured that the magic was strong? How many times did they offer solace to those whose faith had faltered? And yet, here she was, being proved how wrong she was once more.

She let out a bitter chuckle as she shook her head. It had been nothing but a bunch of lies. It turns out her family hadn’t been the only ones in denial, the townspeople were guilty of maintaining that mindset too. The Madrigals didn’t want to believe that their miracle would ever come to an end. The civilians didn’t want to believe that their perfect little paradise was breakable. Then again, perhaps they weren’t the only ones to be proven wrong about their beliefs.

She believed that the love her family had for her was endless and unwavering. Wrong.

She believed that she was just as special as the rest of her family. Wrong.

She believed that she could contribute to the Encanto in the same manner as those blessed with a gift. Wrong.

She believed that she could save the miracle and finally be noticed by those she had loved. Wrong.

She believed that she could make her family proud. Wrong.

It was all wrong. Nothing felt right anymore. And Mirabel wasn’t sure where to go from there.

Her legs had been so quick to carry her away from the hurt, but now refused to budge. However, it wasn’t for the lack of trying. Rather, it was because of their owner’s current unstable state of mind. Right now, a battle of heartache and uncertainty consumed Mirabel’s thoughts. She knew what it would mean if she allowed herself to give in. If her leg took that next step, it would soon be followed by another, and then another… until she was finally on the other side. And if that happened, then she would gain the status of someone who didn’t belong in the Encanto, she would be recognized as an outsider.

Despite all that had happened, some small part of Mirabel Madrigal wanted to believe that there was still hope. That she still had a chance to go back and fix everything, to save the miracle, restore the magic, and make her family proud of her. But that optimism was soon replaced as she contemplated the reality of her actions and words. The negativity, the unpleasant half of herself, the emotions she tried to fight off for years, had been unleashed. If people hadn’t been scrutinizing her already, they would surely be doing so now. And the worst part is, she wouldn’t have blamed them for it. She had proven to everyone that they had every right to be cautious of her.

She couldn’t go back, no one was waiting for her.

Instead, she looked at what lied beyond the broken terrain. It seemed to be a world somewhat like this, for there was nothing but forest as far as the eye could see. And while she couldn’t spot any sign of humanity, she knew there had to be people on the other side. Out there, she would be an outsider.

At that thought, she let out a sorrowful yet accepting sigh. How would that be any different than who she was here? She had been an outsider amongst the community, they didn’t look at her in the same way they looked at her relatives. And she had been an outsider in her own home, she was the only ungifted one in a magical family. Would she really be losing or gaining anything if she dared to take that next step? She had lived within the Encanto’s walls for nearly fifteen years now… the first five were bliss… and the last ten were filled with nothing but a reminder of how much of a failure she was. But she never imagined that her place of birth would end up being somewhere she didn’t belong.

And so, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, her hands clenched into fists as she summoned all the strength she would need for this part. But all her care in the world disappeared as she took that first step towards the unknown.

The Caño Cristales river… a formation that had gained its name because of the great quantities of endemic plant species that caused it to turn into an assortment of hues and shades. While never seen in person before, she recalled hearing Isabela mention it in passing at dinner before. She had apparently read it in a book somewhere and had been excited to introduce the topic to the rest of their family. However, Abuela Alma had quietly shut down the conversation with a wave of her hand and turned their attention to another subject. Mirabel remembered how Isabela’s expression had quickly shifted from delighted to sullen in an instant, but she didn’t dwell on it for long as she resumed eating dinner and allowed her train of thought to focus on the new conversations taking place. Despite being so young at the time, she could tell that Isabela didn’t enjoy the fact that she had been interrupted, she was clearly eager to share her new discovery with someone. Mirabel attempted to ask Isabela about it after dinner, but she had been quickly dismissed by her hermana. Isabela simply shooed her away and demanded to be left alone, and she didn’t leave any room for argument as she escaped into her floral domain. Mirabel had been disappointed by those actions; she had only wanted to brighten up her sister’s day by asking to be the recipient of her newfound knowledge. But instead, the door had been closed on her yet again.

And yet here she was, standing before such a beautiful and alluring landmark. At first, Mirabel hadn’t been sure it was the same river from her sister’s story. But it had to be because its existence matched Isabela’s description perfectly. It was strange how Mirabel would be the first to see such a wonder and not her sister. And despite her morose disposition and how gray the world around her looked now, she couldn’t help but find some joy with this discovery. Even in the darkness, its captivating assortment of colors shined brilliantly, she envied such an ability. The Encanto had always been a captivating and vivacious place, but not even it possessed something like the Caño Cristales river. Somehow, she managed to turn her attention away from the rippling rainbow to better observe her new surroundings. This world had been hidden from her for so long that she couldn’t help but get lost in it, and she couldn’t deny that she took some delight over the fact that she seemed to be only one here right now.

“This place…”

She turned in slow yet calculated circles as her eyes took note of every single detail she encountered.

“It’s…”

She couldn’t find the right words to describe such a location, but she could try at least. It was breathtaking in more ways than one. And dare she say, the embodiment of perfection itself. It was serene, striking, evocative, and… familiar.

Familiar, why is this so familiar? Familiar, like something she used to know. Familiar, she wore that she knew this feeling.

Her eyes wandered back to the watery marvel, and immediately she was overcome with a warmth unlike any other. She was slowly becoming drawn to it, so much so that she didn’t even realize that her legs were already guiding her closer to its boundaries. When she was a child, she always found it difficult to resist jumping into an assortment of water. She took great joy in feeling the water drops gathering on her person, they were always so refreshing and gentle. Every time she did it, she felt as if she was being reborn. Which led her to wonder if she should follow her instincts right now. It was so tempting to just parade around in the river and shower herself with gentle droplets

What was stopping her? She didn’t know. No one seemed to be here with her, and there was no indication that she wasn’t allowed to do so. So why shouldn’t she just let herself go?

With that in mind, she looked around once more and when she was sure she was alone, she decided to make the best of the worst. Slowly, she allowed her legs to step into the canal, she didn’t even bother to lift the edges of her skirt as she did so. She couldn’t help but flinch a little from the crisp feeling, especially when she had garnered several cuts and bruises from her trek here, but she carried on. Within seconds the bracing waters turned into soothing relief. They took some of the pain away and washed off the dirt and blood that had gathered on her skin. Once she felt secure, she closed her eyes and let out a gentle sigh.

“It’s like a memory from a dream.”

It was a true wonder.

You are a wonder, Mirabel Madrigal.

She froze, caught in a net of memories beyond her reach.

Rewind, rewind, rewind.

Tonight, this candle will give you your gift, mi vida.

Rewind, rewind, rewind.

Strengthen our community, strengthen our home.

Rewind, rewind, rewind.

Make your family proud.

She remembered that night, she regretted that night for the day of her days. She remembered those faces gathering around to give her praise. She remembered that dreamlike candlelight like dream she couldn’t quite place. However, could she really forget about the times that came after that day? Things had never been entirely the same, but there had been glimpses of familiarity within the darkness. Reminders that maybe not everything had changed.

Abuela Alma had gifted her the sewing machine she had in the Nursery as well as a proper set of embroidery supplies for one of her later birthdays.

Mamá never failed to cook her favorite meals whenever she had a particularly bad day, she even asked Mirabel to help her with her duties every now and again.

Papá always tried to join her for cleaning duty around Casita, even going as far as to make games out of the chores they performed.

Isabela accepted the small gifts she would craft for her for special occasions, even if they weren’t always perfect and paled in comparison to the other presents she would receive.

Luisa had come to her rescue more times than she could count over the years, and instead of scolding her, she would just playfully shake her head and fix her glasses before sending her on her way.

Tía Pepa taught her how to dance and did her best to instill the teachings of their culture to her, she always seemed to know the answers when it came to customs and traditions.

Tío Félix would join her father and her whenever it was time to straighten up Casita, and during these times he always sang praises for her hard work and talents.

Dolores had been the one to spark her interest in embroidery as well as help her through her awkward puberty stage thanks to the knowledge she had acquired from the community.

Camilo liked to put on shows for the Encanto’s younger crowd with her acting as his partner, together they made quite the team when it came to entertaining the masses.

Antonio was her number one supporter, he always turned to her whenever he needed anything and enjoyed her company above everyone else’s.

And Tío Bruno, she had just reunited with him, but old memories were slowly coming together the more she thought about him. She recalled a time where he had been her favorite person in the world. Camilo and her used to follow him everywhere when he still lived in Casita, they would take turns climbing all over him and use his ruana as a hideout, much to his amusement.

She remembered all of that and more, and for the first time in a long while, she had almost been tempted to smile. However, the darkness returned, and the good times were once again overshadowed by the bad ones. And a bitter realization dawned on Mirabel in that moment. If it had been so easy to create an everlasting, blissful memory, then why weren’t there more of them? Her family had shown that they could provide their love and support for her, so why wasn’t this one of those moments? Her family was known for helping those around them, so why wasn’t she one of those people? Was she not worthy of their help? Of their love? Did they take some sick joy in letting her have happy memories, only to rip them away? Had those good times only been lies as well? Was everything in her life a lie!

Her expression matched how broken she felt now as she unleashed the storm once again. Rivers of tears poured down her face as she clutched her shirt tightly, her hands rested over her heart as she did so. In that moment, her knees felt weak, and they gave way under the pressure of her growing heartache. She let out a series of harsh and painful cries as her body kneeled deeper into the currents. Her tears become sorrowful additions to the waters.

Mirabel had lived a sheltered life for so long now, as result, she never experienced loss before. And she had always considered herself blessed because of such a fact. At least she could always say that she had the Encanto and her family. But now, she recalled how she had lost everything and everyone within the span of a day. She had wanted to believe that she was still a part of the fantastical and magical Madrigal name, gift, or no gift. But truth be told, she hadn’t felt like that in a very long time. At a certain point, she had stopped believing in the encouragements and praises, and felt that they only succeeded in making her feel even more empty on the inside. They only served to remind her how unspecial she was compared to the shining stars of her family.

She had been an outsider then, and she was still an outsider now. She was an outsider no matter where she was… she didn’t belong anywhere or with anyone… and if that was the case, then who was she?

At that very thought, Mirabel let out another anguished cry, sobs racked her body as she no longer tried to keep herself together anymore. Instead, she just let it all out. Her tears and blood joined the ripples surrounding her, imprinting yet another loss into its currents. She didn’t know what else to do at that moment, because she was unsure of what the future held for her now that she had lost everything. The Encanto… the miracle candle… the magic… the Casa… the Madrigals… they were all gone.

“Am I too late for a miracle?”

Once again, no one had answered her.

The environment came to a standstill, and the silence screamed louder than the person it surrounded. The tears and blood had been collected… the loss had been felt… the intentions had been pure… and the plea would be answered. It was decided that one would be blessed yet again.

The sky darkened to a glorious mixture of obsidian and sapphire, and slowly but surely, swirling rays of golden hues made their entrance. However, they weren’t immediately seen by the observer, for she had been too lost in her own grief to notice the change in her surroundings. But that would soon change as the ambience began to echo with words from the past, a moment that had been buried in the memories of one who refused to let go of their past and allowed it to define their future.

With some time, the golden bodies of light began to make their way around the blessed one. Their whispers began to increase in volume as they did so. And it was then that they finally gained the attention of the person they surrounded.

That person was none other than Mirabel Madrigal… the youngest granddaughter of Pedro Madrigal… the keeper of the future… and the heart and soul of their family.

Mirabel had been so lost in her own world that she failed to notice the change in her surroundings at first. However, as soon as she heard the voices, she let out a frightened gasp. She looked around but could find no one there. But that was when she had to consider another possibility. Hesitantly, her eyes wandered upward, and she let out a shocked gasp. What she was witnessing was a wondrous, yet other worldly sight. Swirling golden lights were making their way towards her, but before she could comment on the matter, another strange event took place. The dark sky had crafted a hole, where a strong, yet brilliant, golden cascade made its way to her.

She gasped again, and quickly moved away from the spot she had occupied. She scooted backward until her back encountered a rough rock that adorned the side of the river. It was wide enough to where her feet stood barely above the water. Despite the awkward position, she gripped onto the rock as tightly as she could. She let out a series of excited breaths, panting as she watched the rays of light become engulfed by the golden torrent.

Its sudden appearance and force sent ripples throughout the Caños Cristales river, causing the entire body of water to shine the same color. It even sent waves of a radiant yellow over its boundary, splashing against the rocks and brush, and yet keeping its distance from Mirabel. However, there was still more to come. Within the sounds of the water, she could hear it… it was small and unnoticeable at first, but it grew into something more.

A song. It was a song. And it consumed the silence that had surrounded her just a few seconds ago.

Ay oruguitas, no se aguanten más

Hay que crecer aparte y volver                                         

Hacia adelante seguirás

Vienen milagros, vienen crisálidas

Hay que partir y construir

Su propio futuro

Mirabel listened to the words and felt a deep connection to them. She had never heard such a song before, and yet, it felt as old as time. Almost as if it had always been there, just waiting for someone to find it, and sing it once again. Mirabel looked all around her but couldn’t find any obvious source of the voices. They seemed to be appearing out of thin air, and it felt like they were calling out to her. And so, curiosity got the best of her as she stared into the now golden river. The shining hues seemed to come to life as they danced along the currents, capable of captivating any eye that wandered upon it. Her previous sorrow from before seemed to have disappeared as she dared to take the risk. Her leg slowly dipped into the newly colored canal. She flinched back on instinct, but nothing harmful had occurred with her action.

Again, she repeated the act, this time adding her other leg. Both appendages met the river, never seeming to bring any damage to her person. It didn’t even feel cold like it did before, instead, it felt warm. A feeling of comfort washed over her as she took more steps, as she did so, she could hear a continuation of the song from before.

Dos oruguitas desorientadas

En dos capullos bien abrigadas

Con sueños nuevos

Ya solo falta hacer lo necesario

En el mundo que sigue cambiando

Tumbando sus paredes

Ahí viene nuestro milagro

She twirled around, still eager to search for the source of the lyrics. But once again, no one seemed to be there. That is until she spotted it. Her eyes widened with disbelief as a familiar-looking object made its way onto a piece of grass rooted in the river. And it was when she recalled the importance of her former mission.

A gold butterfly.

“Tío Bruno’s vision.”

Who could possibly forget a brilliant gold shining amongst a background of emerald? And it was posing in the exact same spot. She let out a small, yet gentle gasp as she slowly made her way toward the beautiful insect. For as long as she could remember, she always had a fondness for butterflies. There was just something about them that captivated her. Their tiny wings seemed capable of holding the entire rainbow, they were able to reach heights that didn’t belong to humans, and despite having small bodies, they could leave a big impact on the world by providing the foundation of a new generation. However, as the years went by, Mirabel also came to appreciate them for another reason. She learned that butterflies were often associated with change, rebirth, and transformation. Things her family seemed so opposed to, whereas she wished to embrace. Her gaze never wandered away from the object of her affection and curiosity, as she allowed her hand to reach out to it. However, the new discovery consumed Mirabel’s attention, so much so that she failed to notice the voices growing louder and louder as they sang the next verse of the melody.

Nuestro milagro

Nuestro milagro

Nuestro milagro

Mirabel’s fingertips touched the butterfly, gently petting its captivating exterior. And that was all that was needed for the next step to occur. For as soon as she did so, the butterfly’s bright colors engulfed the atmosphere. The sudden change startled Mirabel as she fell back, causing some of the gold water to splash onto her person. She was so caught up in that moment that she didn’t notice the droplets healing the physical damage scattered along her body. Instead, her attention had been diverted to the majesty that was taking place all around her now. Various hues and shades of the rainbow were encompassed by the same radiant gold that had taken over the river. And multiple shapes of living and inanimate objects danced along the colors.

Flowers, familiar looking ones, bloomed in many forms, with cattleya trianae being the most prominent of them all. Wildlife consisting of coatis, toucans, tamarins, tapirs, jaguars, and capybaras pranced around the never-ending rainbow. Wax palm trees grew in high and low places, a few were either housing animal life or bearing its well-known fruit. The sight of arepas, ajiaco, buñuelos, empanadas, cholao, and tamales coursed through the hues, Mirabel swore that she could smell the familiar delectable aromas emitting from them as they did so. And then there were the people. A crowd of men, women and children were added into the mix. Some played with the animals, others held the plates of food and offered them to the crowd, a few were adorned with a variety of musical instruments, and they played to their heart’s content while the rest danced to those heavenly tunes. Each person wore traditional attire made with a multitude of colorful fabrics; each design offered a unique look. Scalloped collars, ruanas, frilled dresses, vibrant skirts, and animated guayaberas decorated their bodies as they made their way through the brilliant current of light. And what made the moment even more magical was the fact that some of the objects, animals, and people interacted with her. She felt the flowers as they landed on her person, capybaras and coatis nudged her hands for pets as toucans landed on her shoulders and head, she was handed several dishes for her to pass along, and she was soon pulled into the festive whirlwind.

Mirabel was lost in an array of rainbow and gold as a variety of people gathered all around her. Children began to admire her outfit; their tiny fingers carefully traced along the vibrant stitches and nodded their heads in approval. Several women seemed to be doting on her appearance, and it was then that Mirabel realized that she must have looked like a mess considering she had been running through a harsh terrain not that long ago. But much to her surprise, instead of scolding her over such a fact, they started to pamper her. A few ran their hands along her curls to untangle the strands, their touch reminiscent of maternal affection. Needles and threads magically appeared in their hands, and they began to restore her outfit to its former glory. Slowly, the rips and tears were repaired with no indication that they had ever been there to begin with. As for the men, they seemed to be working on a project of their own. She saw several of them using a variety of small tools and supplies to craft something that would open her eyes. Literally. Within seconds, their masterpiece was completed, and they stood before, beaming with pride and anticipation as they held out the familiar looking offering. Throughout this whole time, Mirabel hadn’t realized the true extent of the damage done to her during that hasty escape.

Her glasses… they were broken. The lenses were now adorned with cracks, taunting reminders of what led her to this point. The temples appeared to be bent, it was a struggle to get them to hold onto her face. The screws and rivets weren’t secured anymore either, any sudden movement could potentially destroy what was left of the foundation they were trying to hold together. Out of all her family, her father and her had been the only ones to ever sport the necessary accessory, something he claimed made them birds of a feather. Mirabel treasured her glasses because she knew that had been crafted out of love and concern for her safety. Abuela had ordered them, her padres had picked out the lime green color and her hermanas chose the gold accents. Meanwhile, her tíos had been left in charge of designing the case while her tía and primos selected and fashioned the box that held her new additions. However, Mirabel came to adore them for another reason too. Affection could be displayed in many ways, and for her, one of said manners was through her glasses. Mirabel couldn’t count the times someone had fondly adjusted them for her or had been the ones to help them adorn her face in her stead. Such gestures meant more to Mirabel than they realized, because she felt that tenderness could be expressed without words at times.

But that didn’t mean she didn’t crave the terms of endearment either, especially from people who seemed to have forgotten that she loved them unconditionally and constantly thought of them in such a manner.

Mirabel’s hands wandered to her face and gently plucked the cracked frames from their place. The action spoke louder than words as her eyes were soon given a new lease on sight. With that, her iconic look had been given back to her. All that remained of its formerly disheveled state were the broken glasses she held in her hands. In that moment, these people seemed to gaze at her with awe and adoration. Some clapped their hands, others whistled and cheered, and a few even took a bow. Mirabel had to admit, she wasn’t used to being the center of attention. But they weren’t done just yet. One by one, the people began to offer their hands out to her. Confused, but more than curious, she allowed her hands to greet theirs and she was soon twirled around in a dance of sorts. The rest of the crowd followed her example as they joined together to bask in the golden river. Her partners were men, women, children, and even some animals. A newfound feeling was now stirring within her, something that replaced all the negativity she had experienced earlier.

Something inside her was growing.

However, as Mirabel became more immersed in the majesty, she noticed that there were more members in attendance now. Several butterflies had joined the festivities, and their appearance matched the one Mirabel had seen earlier. And at first, she couldn’t help but smile over what she was bearing witness to, though, that smile quickly faded once she understood the significance of the tiny beings. Upon closer inspection, she realized that despite sharing the same golden hue, each butterfly was adorned with a very peculiar design on its wings. And it wasn’t the typical patterns she had been used to seeing on the breathtaking insects either.

They were symbols, motifs! Recognizable ones too. Herbs, the sun, an hourglass, flowers, soundwaves, a dumbbell, a chameleon, and a toucan. However, she couldn’t dwell on them for long since she soon spied a variety of other, unfamiliar, motifs on the remaining butterflies. And yet, despite their differences, the tiny beings were united by the fact that they were currently following her! What’s more is that the people appeared to take notice of such a detail as they made a path for them. As soon as they did so, she was overtaken by the giant wave of butterflies. Mirabel let out a surprised gasp as she now stood in the eye of a golden hurricane.

Once upon a time, she recalled Tía Pepa telling her that in the eye of a hurricane, there is nothing but quiet. And now she certainly understood how true that was as a strange wave of tranquility washed over her with this swirl of yellow and gold hues. Which is what led her to remember another important fact she acquired from her aunt in that same conversation. When a hurricane consumes the land, the sky will become painted yellow rather than blue. However, the sky wasn’t any of those colors now. It remained a captivating obsidian color decorated with rainbow tints around the edges. Alas, while inside this whirlwind, it felt as if she had all the time in the world to gather her thoughts and truly contemplate everything that had happened that led her to this point. The shining emblems reminded her of what had been lost, not just to her, but to the world she once occupied.

The Encanto had been a paradise granted through sacrifice, it was a place where magic and blessings reigned, it had been a sanctuary to those who hoped for tomorrow. And such a legacy began with her grandfather, continued thanks to her grandmother, and sustained because of the generations they set the foundation for. Through the gifts bestowed upon their bloodline, her relatives had worked to show the world that they were worthy of the miracle given to them by serving the community and using their abilities for the greater good. And while she hadn’t been there to see the outcome of the cracks’ purge, but she could only imagine how horrendous and shocking it must have been for everyone, especially when she knew the significant of such an event. With no Casita, it means that the magic must have disappeared along with the miracle candle and the gifts. And the idea of it all made Mirabel feel ill and empty on the inside, it felt as if a piece of her had been stripped away. But at that thought, she couldn’t help but let out a bitter chuckle as she shook her head. She had no right to complain about how she felt. It was nothing compared to what her family must have been feeling now.

Lost. Confused. Scared. Angry?

Angry with her?

Hate?

Did they hate her?

She certainly wouldn’t blame them. All her efforts to make her family proud had only caused them nothing but stress and heartache. She had denied them a chance for tomorrow by rendering them as powerless as she had always been. The townspeople looked to them for hope, guidance, strength, and assistance. But with no miracle or gifts, how would they see the Madrigals now? And how would the Madrigals live knowing that they had lost an important piece of themselves. Mamá, Tía, and Tío lived for forty-five years with their blessings, Isabela and Dolores had sixteen years to practice and hone their skills, Luisa was given fourteen years to test the limits of her strength and break through them, Camilo had ten years to master his talents, and Antonio was only given a day or so with his new ability. Her heart broke for them, neither of them had ever known a moment without their powers, it was a part of them. But now it was gone, and she could only imagine how hurt they were.

They were just like her now.

Giftless. A nobody with no future.

She had always done the best she could for the Encanto and the Madrigals, but deep down, she always knew where she stood. She would always be considered the one who didn’t belong, while they stood with the blessed. That line had been drawn so long ago, and it was something people never allowed her to forget, whether it was intentional or not. Oh, how she tried, she tried with all of her might to ignore that obvious separation between her family and herself. But she never got the chances they did. Everyone failed to understand just how much she had been denied.

She was nobody.

The dancing depictions crowding around her now showed her what she had denied to her familia, the Encanto, and the future Madrigals. These motifs weren’t just the ones she had seen repeatedly in her household, and there were others that represent the gifts that awaited future members of the Madrigal bloodline. But this future would never be fulfilled now, and Mirabel couldn’t help but blame herself for that.  

Suddenly, the hurricane began to change its shape, which caused Mirabel to snap back to reality. The butterflies shifted their route as they dispersed in different directions, except for one. At first, Mirabel questioned why such an event was occurring, that is until her eyes caught sight of the butterfly heading towards her. A silent gasp escaped her lips once she noticed the motif decorating its little wings.

A candle. It was a candle. A remarkably familiar looking one too.

But before she could make any sort of movement towards the flying creature, its form started to change. The golden glow never wavered as remnants of its small body unraveled, and the shining threads created a different structure. Soon, its new appearance grew as a pair arms and hands, a set of legs and feet, and a head were formed. And it didn’t stop there either, specific details were added such as deep brown sandals, tan colored pants, and a white shirt. Strangely, their face was the last to be given life, and yet Mirabel found herself recognizing the figure even before the head was given features.

It couldn’t be. It wasn’t possible.

Dark brown hair with a hint of curls, displaying signs of a beard and mustache, and soft brown eyes with sun kissed skin. Separately, these components could have belonged to anyone, but together, one person could only wear them.

Tears started to leak from her eyes, her free hand moved against her mouth as the other hand clutched tightly onto her old pair of glasses. She didn’t even realize that her hold caused them to break in two, sending one half into the depths of the currents as the remaining piece remained in her palm. Her body began to shake as she gazed upon the individual. And it was then that she noticed how the shapes of the people came to a standstill as they all seemed to be staring at the figure too. However, their reactions vastly varied from her own, instead of being in a state of shock and confusion, they were smiling. Even the animals seemed to be highlighting their happiness as they pranced around in small circles before settling back in their place. Then one by one they began to bow, fading into the golden light as soon as they did so, leaving only Mirabel and this new being behind.

With that, Mirabel turned her attention back to this person, and she couldn’t help but gaze into the sweetest pair of ­coffee-colored eyes she had ever seen.

It just couldn’t be… could it? Was it possible?

She found herself at a loss, she didn’t know how to properly react to this situation. But, at the same time, she didn’t want to run away. Not again. Instead, she just stood there, and gazed upon the heavenly form. Finally, after some silence and hesitation on her part, Mirabel gained the courage to confirm who she was seeing. It was someone she knew, someone she had always greeted in the morning and bid goodnight to, someone she would find herself talking to whenever there wasn’t anyone else around, and someone she dearly loved even though she never had the chance to meet them.

But apparently that wasn’t the case anymore because they were standing right in front of her now.  

“Abuelo.”

The figure, now known as Pedro Madrigal, smiled brightly and warmly at her as he greeted her. 

“Mirabel Madrigal, mi nieta, cuánto he anhelado este día.”

Despite his appearance, speaking to her, and acknowledging their relationship with one another, Mirabel still couldn’t believe her eyes. Even though she had been surrounded by magic for fifteen years now, she always thought that there were some things that could never be accomplished. This was one of those events. It was a moment she could only experience in her dreams or until her time in this world ended. And yet, here he was, Pedro Madrigal in the flesh, in a manner of speaking. She wasn’t entirely sure if his body was a solid form or a transparent image. Then again, she had been able to feel touch, and hold onto the figures that came before him. And so, her hand slowly reached out to the golden manifestation. She couldn’t help but let out another small gasp once her hand met the cheek of her grandfather’s form. It felt so soft and gentle, something that was only accented as he closed his eyes and leaned into the touch, his hand clasped onto hers as he did so. His touch was strong yet gentle. More tears poured down her face once she realized that this wasn’t a dream.

“It’s you, it’s really you,” she whispered.

Pedro Madrigal couldn’t help but be amused by his granddaughter’s reaction. Truth be told, this was the best outcome he could have hoped for. He had pictured this scenario before his arrival, contemplating the possibilities. He had been afraid of Mirabel running away from him, questioning whether he was nothing more than a figment of hysteria. Thankfully, she had stayed, and she seemed to be accepting of the matter.  

“Yes, child, it is me.”

That was all she needed to know; she couldn’t hold herself back anymore. Mirabel let out a harsh sob as she wrapped her arms around her grandfather, she clung tightly to his shirt as she buried her face next to his heart. Pedro remained in place, his smile never wavering as he moved his arms around his preciosa nieta. He didn’t belong in this world anymore, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t been keeping a close eye on his familia this entire time. He had watched his three babies and their babies along with his in-laws and wife for fifty years now, and he would continue to do so until the end of time. As a result, his eyes were more than open when it came to his familia, especially Mirabel.

He knew her well enough to know what she was about to say and do next, and his heart was already aching over that fact.

“I-I’m sorry.”

She had nothing to be sorry for, he certainly knew that. But for her sake, he allowed her to continue. After all, holding everything inside would only function as a poison rather than an antidote, such a fact only became cemented the longer he watched over those he left behind.  

Mirabel was so sorry. She had only wanted to strengthen her community, strengthen her home, and make her family proud. However, it seemed like the only thing she could do was bring everything and everyone to ruin. Her grandfather’s sacrifice, her grandmother’s dedication, her relatives’ gifts, and all their hard work had been in vain because of her. She never felt worthy of the Madrigal name ever since she watched her door disappear, and that sentiment had only increased as the years passed on.

“I didn’t want to hurt us.”

He never thought otherwise, he knew this child wasn’t capable of malicious intent. Now if only the rest of them could understand that. Everything his youngest granddaughter did, she did for the sake of their family, she had only wanted to ensure their future. But no one seemed to see it that way. Instead, she had been accused of hurting those she loved more than anyone in this entire world. Her attempts to pick up the broken pieces and put them back together had gone unrecognized and ignored in favor of keeping an unfair and fragmented status quo.

“I just wanted…”

What did she want?

That was something everyone assumed they knew the answer to. Some believed she wanted a magical talent and a unique habitat to call her own. Others thought that she merely wanted attention and would do anything to achieve such a notion. And there were a few who held the misconception that she wanted to go against everything their miracle supposedly represented.

However, all of that couldn’t have been farther from the truth. Mirabel didn’t know why she hadn’t been given a gift, but she was under no delusion that she would ever gain one in the future. Such a belief didn’t hold any influence over her actions and words. She didn’t set out to help others or assist her family with their duties just because she thought she would be given a blessing of her own if she did so. She didn’t want to save the miracle just because she felt she would be entitled to a reward of some sort. And while she couldn’t deny that it would have been nice to shine in the same manner as the rest of her relatives, she would never say that she sought attention on purpose. Rather, she just wanted her efforts to be acknowledged, she wanted someone to say that what she was doing was more than enough. That she was more than enough. As for the miracle, that was an overly complicated matter because Mirabel simply didn’t know what to believe anymore regarding that. If helping those around them fueled their blessings, if hard work and dedication were all that was needed to keep the miracle burning, then why had the cracks been forming in the first place? Up until Antonio’s birthday, the Madrigals had been going about their usual routines. In fact, Mirabel argued that they worked thrice as hard as they usually did, and looking back on it now, it might have been some form of compensation to ensure the youngest Madrigal grandchild had a successful ceremony. They had been doing everything right, and yet it still hadn’t been enough. Which is what opened Mirabel’s eyes to another side of their magic: there was more to the miracle than effort and commitment.

But for the life of her, she just couldn’t let go of the idea that she somehow played a role in their destruction. Even now she could feel Abuela Alma’s words piercing her heart, being carved deeply into her very soul, and cementing that there was truly no place for her in the magical world known as the Encanto.

What did she want?

All she wanted was a change, a chance.

“To be something I’m not.”

With that, she let out another series of wails as she buried her face within her grandfather’s hold yet again. Despite the sorrow consuming her body in that very moment, Mirabel could no longer say that it was weighing her down, rather, she never felt so light before in her life. And she couldn’t help but wonder if this was how her sisters felt when they finally confronted the root of their insecurities and admitted their longing for something more. If so, then she could honestly say that she understood why it had been so easy to give into temptation the moment you were given just a small taste of freedom. For Luisa, it was confessing to the fact that she felt overworked and underappreciated. For Isabela, it was a matter of admitting that perfection wasn’t all glitters and gold. And for her, it was simply because she could acknowledge her true feelings and have them validated rather than dismissed. It felt so liberating to finally unleash the storm that had been brewing inside her for ten years now. And what made the moment even more special for her is that the person who was bearing witness to it wasn’t trying to avoid or ignore it. Rather, he seemed to be accepting it as he continued to embrace her like she was some sort of precious treasure.

The grandfather and granddaughter pair stayed in that position for what seemed like a lifetime, their hold on each other never wavered even as the minutes ticked by, which was something the late patriarch appreciated with all his heart. He had yearned to perform an such act for an exceptionally long time now regardless of who the relative was, if possible, he would have taken his whole familia into a large embrace and never let them go. But such an intention only served to remind Pedro of one of the roots of his familia’s problems.

She could never let go, she held on too tight, clearly afraid that she would lose everyone else too. However, in her pursuit to do so, he was afraid that she might have created more cracks rather than mend them. It was only a shame that she couldn’t open her eyes, that none of them could have opened their eyes.

All except for one that is. His Mirabel, his darling granddaughter, there was so much he wanted to say in her defense during that heated confrontation between his wife and her. Alas, much like with other events, good and bad, he could only watch from the sidelines as the scene played out. Such was the fate of all mortals who no longer inhabited this world, always forced to be the observer rather than a participant. Granted there were some exceptions to that rule, but that was a whole other series of complications. In fact, the only reason he could be here right now was simply because he had been granted permission to finally make his presence known, and it could only be to Mirabel, no one else. And if he was being honest, out of all the Madrigals, he needed to see her most of all. Especially when the choice she made after this moment would factor into whether he would be able to see her again. He closed his eyes as a silent sigh escaped his lips, although Mirabel hadn’t noticed since her face was being covered by his shirt, as his hold on her tightened a little. He continued to embrace his youngest granddaughter: caressing her hair, massaging the tension out of her back, and whispering sweet nothings into her ears. He hoped what he was doing would somehow be written into her heart, for there was a possibility that her mind wouldn’t be able to recall this moment. The thought of it all pained him, especially when he felt this potential future could have been avoided if the right steps had been taken. But he knew it had to be done, because it had always been Mirabel’s destiny to be a catalyst.

Be it in her current life, or in her prospective life.

Mirabel's cries finally reached an end, although she wasn't sure if the storm inside her had gone away completely, since now she was feeling a new cluster of conflicting emotions. She felt heavy, free, exhausted, alert, uncertain, and calm. She wasn’t used to this either and she wasn’t sure where to go from here. After all, she had never let go of it all in such a manner before, and she didn’t know what was to come next. However, she did know that she had to clean her glasses since they had become fogged by her heavy breathing and tears. She hesitantly let go of her grandparent to perform the task. She even took the liberty to rub her eyes and wipe away the watery residue on her cheeks. And then she turned to gaze upon her grandfather once more. And in that moment, Pedro’s mind couldn’t help but see another individual who once shared the same look that was currently adorning Mirabel’s face.

Lost in their darkest moment, and in need of a miracle.

Am I too late for a miracle?

She had asked that question before, and now he was here to provide an answer, something no one else had ever been able to do. And the answer was no, she was not too late. In fact, this could be the beginning… depending on her choice of course.

With that in mind, his hands reached out to Mirabel, and he gently gathered her palms into his own. If he could hold onto her for just a little longer, he would be satisfied. His eyes shined with everlasting love as he looked at her. The moment he did so, Mirabel was at a loss for words once as an important realization dawned upon her. All those years of greeting his portrait every morning as well as saying farewell to it every night, and simply staring at it from time to time, she never noticed that her grandfather’s eyes looked exactly like hers.

Said eyes narrowed a little and they began to wander, scanning the surrounding area like a fine-tooth comb. Mirabel couldn’t help but follow their lead as she found herself looking in the same directions as them. She had been so lost in her emotional outburst that she didn’t even realize that her grandfather and her were the only people there now, the radiant apparitions from before had disappeared, but there were still hints of their presence because the sky still possessed rainbow hues and the river remained as gold as the shining sun. However, apparently the butterflies hadn’t left their side since she could see some of them flying overhead while others simply rested in the brush. They seemed to capture her Abuelo’s attention as well since his eyes traced over their forms before turning his gaze back to her.

“She’s never been able to come here you know.”

Mirabel was brought back to reality with such a simple yet vague statement, her head titled a little as her eyes focused on his. For once, they shined with sadness, heartache, and dare she say, regret? Such emotions didn’t suit her grandfather. Plus, the way he spoke of “she” rather than him made her wonder who exactly she was referring to, even though deep down within her heart, she had an idea on who that individual was. In that moment, she felt a heavy wave of tension cover her like a blanket, it was a familiar feeling that she had done her best to avoid repeatedly. In fact, she had just escaped from a foreboding atmosphere such as this one not that long ago. Whatever Pedro was about to say next; she just knew that it couldn’t have been good.

Pedro would soon confirm her suspicions as images of the past flickered within his mind like a flame.

“This river is where we were given our miracle.”

It felt like the entire world came to a halt with that confession. And suddenly Mirabel found herself reliving a memory from a past long forgotten by the very person who held their beginning with such high regard. Loving arms had taken her into their warm and seemingly eternal embrace, as they beckoned for them to open their eyes to show them the source of their blessings, and it was then the full story of their miracle was shared with them. At the very end of that special moment, they were entrusted with the future of their community and home, with the promise to make their family proud. As a child, it was easy to just glance over the tragedy and focus on the good that had occurred that night. But now that she was older, questions had the tendency to plague her mind concerning the events of that day. Especially when it seemed like Abuela Alma could never truly let it go.

“Where you…?”

He simply nodded and that was all he needed to do for her to not complete the sentence. All this time, the mountains of the Encanto had blocked this area, preventing anyone from seeing the majesty of such a wonder, but it also served to help people avoid remembering the lost. And yet here she was, Mirabel couldn’t believe it. She had unknowingly traveled to her grandfather’s grave; she was literally standing within the waters that had claimed his body. Her body shook a little at the very thought of that and her grip on ger Abuelo’s hands tightened. Her eyes began to well up with tears once more as she contemplated the idea that her grandfather hadn’t been given a proper burial and those who mourned for him were never given proper closure nor could they visit him ever again. Even though her grandmother and her had their differences, she couldn’t help but feel sorry for the matriarch as she realized the full extent of Pedro’s sacrifice.

“I thought things would be different… it was supposed to be the start of something new… for all of us.”

He recalled the moment where he realized that he would have to break his vows to his beloved esposa and their niños. Ironically, his regret was also his source of contentment. He would gladly lose everything if it meant that they would be given a future, yet he would also mourn for what could have been. It had been a difficult pill to swallow, but he had to accept that he wouldn’t be a part of the life he had dreamed about the moment he met Alma Botero and fathered his Julieta, Pepa, and Bruno. 

Regret and contentment were key factors in his afterlife, especially as he watched how much things and people had changed over the years. He had been more than elated to know that his family would survive and were given a shelter that protected them against the tragedies in the outside world, but it would also mean that they would be stuck in the past forever. Such a fact meant that no one would ever be allowed to grow in the way that was necessary. He had been grateful for Casita’s birth and their devotion to his clan, however, much like him, they were always forced to watch from the sidelines as events played out. There was only so much they could do in those moments. He was excited over the prospect of his lineage being gifted with magic, and yet that still didn’t erase the idea that such greatness came with a heavy price. He was proud of his familia for using their powers for good, but that didn’t excuse how much they had to sacrifice for the sake of supposed “stability” nor did it justify how they could be taken advantage of. Needless to say, his feelings concerning the Encanto were conflicting and at times, complicated.

This couldn’t have been any truer when it came to his youngest granddaughter. He let go of one of Mirabel’s hands and placed it against her cheek, the spark of everlasting love returned to his gaze as he stared at the teenager. Despite the misconceptions people had regarding Mirabel, she was every bit a Madrigal and one of the greatest gifts and honors he had was having her for a grandchild. He would never trade her for anything or anyone in the world, not even for his own life. Which is why he had no qualms about the task he had been assigned, despite wishing that there had been another way to guarantee her happiness.

“Mirabel, you’ve been burdened with blame for far too long now, even when your intentions have been pure.”

The teenager gave her Abuelo a questioning look, clearly stuck between not believing him and wanting to do so. And the worst part is that he couldn’t fault the child for her confusion. She had spent the better part of fifteen years being unintentionally isolated from both the world and her family. Even though he never bore witness to physical abuse in his bloodline, and it was clear the members held some form of love for one another, that didn’t account for the emotional damage spreading across the generations. But he supposed when someone lived in such conditions for so long, they become blind to the reality of it all.

However, he wanted to say his peace on the matter before he offered Mirabel the opportunity that was to be given to her. After all that had happened, she needed to hear this.

“You’ve never hurt our family Mirabel.”

That was all it took for the tears welling up in her eyes to fall. It looked like she wanted to argue as her lips parted and small noises escaped from them, clearly her attempt to refute his claims. But he didn’t give her the chance to do so as he continued with his heartfelt declaration.

“We are broken.”

Those cracks had always been lingering, at first it had been easy to just dismiss them as a natural occurrence that came with time, but suddenly the shadows could no longer contain their presence and they grew until the truth couldn’t be avoided anymore. But that still didn’t stop people from trying to ignore them and continue with their lives, under the false belief that if it was out of sight then it was out of mind. In the end, that’s why the cracks continued to plague Casita. However, the house wasn’t the only one to experience such a breakdown, his familia had their fair share of rifts as well. And Pedro was more than ashamed to admit that such a fact also extended to the bonds the family had with one another. Nothing had ever been the same since his death, and he watched as the Madrigals became just as broken as the foundation they had done their best to uphold.

“Alma was given a miracle, a second chance.”

Even after all these years, Pedro still loved Alma and he certainly had a lot to be grateful for thanks to her, but that didn’t mean that he approved of her actions or her words. When they were young, he bore witness to a different side of Alma, one that no doubt would have remained had she chosen to not be a prisoner of her own grief. She had been so full of hope, so full of life. There was unshakable pep in her step as she showed the world the warmth of her smile, whenever a door closed, she opened a window, and allowed herself to see the good this world possessed. She enchanted him, she took his breath away, and she became a light in his life. However, there was no denying that she had changed. Ironically his wife hated the very concept of that, and yet, she represented it to an unhealthy degree.

“And she is so afraid of losing it that she has forgotten who our miracle was for and what it truly represents.”

She had forgotten what had made them special, and it certainly wasn’t the candle or the gifts, but rather the fact that, despite tragedy and loss, they were still a family. Alma wholeheartedly believed that the magic surrounding the Encanto was extraordinary. Granted, not every location could say that they had access to the benefits of their town, but that didn’t mean the world’s wonders were strictly isolated there. In fact, something else Alma had allowed herself to become blind to was that they had been taught how the world was full of magic at an early age. Their original home, what he considered to be a town lost in time, was a paradise in every sense of the word despite not being anything like the Encanto. The people who once occupied the red shingled houses and walked along the cobblestone paths would often share stories of how there was magic in the streets and that it had always been there, you just had to look for it. Magic was a part of life and it highlighted itself in a variety of ways, both in subtle manners and grand displays. The Encanto was a wonder, but the world was an even bigger wonder.

“A gift is not always defined by magical abilities and powers, sometimes it takes other forms as well.”

There was no sign of hesitation in his voice as he spoke such a fact. Pedro believed that with his entire heart and soul because he had witnessed it for a long time, both outside the Encanto and inside it. And he had the honor of standing before someone who embodied that affirmation.

“Mirabel, despite what they all believe, and what you believe, every Madrigal has been blessed with a gift.”

The teenager’s form perked up once she heard that direct and compelling revelation, and for the first time since her encounter with her deceased grandparent, her eyes shined with hope. In that moment, Pedro couldn’t help but see a younger version of his wife within their grandchild once more.

“T-they have?” she questioned. “Even me?”

Pedro simply nodded, and Mirabel could sense no deception in his words. More tears escaped from her eyes; however, this time they weren’t born from heartache or disbelief. Instead, they had stemmed from the fact that someone could make those declarations and sincerely believe them. If it had been anyone else, even those within her household, who had uttered those statements, there would always be some lingering doubt in the back of her mind. At the end of the day none of the Madrigals could ever hope to understand her. Members born into the magical bloodline hadn’t suffered the humiliation and uncertainty she had after her failed ceremony, they had been given a purpose the moment they touched their doors and were given a gift and a room to call their own. They never had to question their place in the world like she did daily. As for those who had simply married into the family, they might be able to claim that they didn’t have a gift either, but it was different for them. People held her to a higher degree than them simply because she was born a Madrigal, not one created through courtship. Then there was the person at the center of it all, she held the source of their blessings and guided those who had been granted them, and that was more than enough for the people to never doubt her actions and words.

But Pedro wasn’t like the rest of them, and she would soon understand why she had no issue believing his words compared to everyone else’s.

“Even you.”

With that his other hand moved to touch her opposite cheek, so now her face was cradled within his warm palms.

"Mirabel, the Encanto holds the belief that a Madrigal doesn’t discover their true purpose until the day they receive a magical talent and an otherworldly territory to call their own. And that misconception has caused them to forget that we already possess gifts even without any sort of enchantment.”

Pedro was in no way denying how much his children and grandchildren contributed to the Encanto because of their extraordinary abilities, but he would never go as far as to label them as their only gifts. They were more than that.

“Take me for example, I didn’t discover that I had a talent for sewing until I started an apprenticeship at the local tailor shop. People said I had a gift when it came to the craft,” he reminisced about the past with great fondness. “And I always had a passion for writing, specifically poetry. In fact, it’s one of the ways I managed to woo your grandmother.”

Despite the tension between the Madrigal matriarch and the youngest granddaughter, Mirabel couldn’t help but find that idea endearing, even if it were difficult to picture how Abuela Alma had been in her youth. She never really talked about stuff like that.

“She said that I was naturally gifted when it came to giving life to my expressions.”

For once she had to agree with her grandmother, Abuelo Pedro did have a way with words. And perhaps that’s why it had been so easy to believe him, he was the only person she knew whose actions matched his words and his words matched his actions. Mirabel had no doubt that the Madrigal family and the townspeople had good intentions when it came to securing their future, but they weren’t known for always being tact. In fact, Mirabel could argue that they could be insensitive at times, and not just to her, but to one another as well. She saw how a supposedly perfect family didn’t always treat each other with love and respect and she now had a better understanding of how much the village came to rely on the magic to an unhealthy degree. With that in mind, could anyone really blame her for nothing believing the attempts to give her support? 

“And you know what my final gift was?”

Suddenly the air around her became heavy, and a foreboding feeling slowly consumed her body. She had a feeling she knew what he was going to discuss next, although she didn’t wish to interrupt him, so she kept quiet and simply nodded for him to continue with his point.

“Despite not being able to heal, influence the weather, or even see in the future like your Mamá, Tía and Tío, or being as flexible and strong like your sisters, or as all knowing, ever changing, and fluent like your cousins, I found the power I needed to confront the dangers when no one else could.”

She never thought about it that way before. Pedro’s sacrifice might have sparked the beginning of their miracle, but at the end of the day, he had been just an ordinary man who wanted to save his family and neighbors. He didn’t have any magical abilities of his own but he had been able to help others, in a way, he was just like her. All she ever wanted to do was the prove to everyone that she was just as capable of carrying on his legacy.

If only they had given her the chance… if only Alma had given her the chance.

“Also, don’t forget that while your Abuela might be the keeper of the candle, she doesn’t have any actual magic like the rest of Madrigal children and grandchildren,” he stated. “Instead, she had been blessed with the wit of an innate leader and the ability to be resourceful whenever the situation called for it, and this was long before the Encanto was born.”

Mirabel never knew how great her grandmother had been long before taking the title of the Encanto’s matriarch.

“With my death, she was given a miracle, a second chance. Her gifts were the Encanto, Casita, and the candle, she was given what she really needed in that moment: a home and a future for both herself, our children, and our neighbors.”

The more he spoke, the more she found herself believing that she hadn’t been truly giftless after all. However, she also couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it was that she was good at compared to everyone else.

“And then there is your Papá and other Tío. The two of them possessed gifts long before they married a Madrigal.”

The two “unexceptional” members of the Madrigal family simply because they had married into it rather than being born within the bloodline. They were people who tried to support her in any way possible, but at the end of the day it all boiled down to one simple fact: she had been expected to receive a gift and a room of her own, while they hadn’t.  

“Agustín is extremely gifted when it comes to playing the piano, he uses such an ability to engage with the people around him. His expertise in mathematics has allowed him to help many people in a variety of ways, from building new structures to keeping up with commerce. And even though he isn’t known for being graceful, that doesn’t stop him from working with his hands.”

That was her father all right.

“Whereas Félix’s love for music has allowed him to discover how naturally gifted he is when it comes to dancing, playing the tiple, and singing. Those skills have helped him brighten even the darkest of days and motivate people to keep going. And he has proven to be a natural born caretaker because both people and animals can’t help but flock to him whenever they need assistance.”

What a perfect way to describe Tío Félix.

“And when your Papá married your Mamá and your Tío married your Tía, they had been blessed with several more gifts. Both men lost their families at some point before their weddings, but they became a part of a household once more the moment they said their vows. They will be forever joined to a person who loves them more than anyone who sought out their affections. They were granted the opportunity to live in a residence where their needs would be catered to and where they would never have to worry about being alone ever again. And together with their spouses, they created healthy, beautiful children, who would continue their legacy.”

That’s when his thumbs started to caress the sides of her face. Pedro watched as the spark of life slowly returned in Mirabel’s eyes. His beloved granddaughter, he could only imagine how strange this all was for her. She had spent ten years living with a certain mindset, one that had been enabled and reinforced simply because people didn’t know better. And now to hear that everything she had been led to believe concerning the miracle and gifts wasn’t as black and white as everyone thought, it must have come as a shock to her.

“You see mi maravillosa nieta, gifts come in all shapes and sizes, all you have to do is open your eyes.”

Such familiar words stung her a little bit, but they also lifted a heavy burden off her heart. Several stray tears leaked out of her eyes as the reality of his statement sunk in. Mirabel Madrigal hadn’t been forsaken by the miracle, and she hadn’t been denied a gift after all. But that begged the question, what had been her blessing or blessings in place of a magical talent?

“Abuelo, please, before you continue, what was my gift?” she questioned.

She needed to know because she certainly wasn’t going to find out from the other Madrigals or the townspeople. To them, it was all about who possessed an extraordinary skill that would help strengthen their community, strengthen their home, and make their family proud. There was no room for normalcy in that magical and fantastical world, they were too biased to see the reality of what the true miracle was and how gifts were more than just unbelievable abilities. They would not have the answer she had been looking for her whole life. She had been waiting for a miracle, and it seemed like this was the opportunity to finally receive it.

“All of these years of trying to convince myself that I was fine with being the outcast in a magical family, of thinking that I wasn’t special like the rest of them, of believing that there was something wrong with me…”

If she couldn’t move the mountains, if she couldn’t make the flowers bloom, if she couldn’t heal what’s broken, and if she couldn’t control the morning rain or a hurricane, then what could she do? Who was she?

“I need to know… what was my gift?”  

Pedro could hear the desperation in her voice, and he couldn’t fault her for it. She was right; she did need to know because it had always been her destiny to continue where he left off and where Alma would eventually have to leave behind. Since the day he knew of her conception, he knew her purpose.

“Gifts were given to emphasize the individual’s passions, that’s why they’re gifts and not duties or responsibilities. They were meant to reflect the person’s true self, not the world’s needs.”

Images of his loved ones flashed through his mind as he contemplated why they had been bestowed their specific powers in the first place. There was a method to the madness, pardon the expression. 

“Julieta desired to be a caretaker so she could help lessen the burdens Alma had. Pepa always wanted a way to make her emotions be seen rather than dismissed. And Bruno wished he could see every possible path his choices could lead to.”

Which is why the first generation of magic represents the past, present, and future.

“Pepa Madrigal wanted to be seen and Félix Castillo wanted to be heard, which is how a part of the next branch was formed. Dolores always had a desire to know everything and share everything with everyone. Camilo liked putting on a show for the entire world to see in the hopes of making them smile. And Antonio had always been the one to give those who were silent a voice.”

One half of the second generation reflected hearing, seeing, and speaking.

“Julieta Madrigal wanted to help those in need and Agustín Rojas wanted to be adaptable, and that’s why your sisters and you exist. Isabela wished to contribute to the world around her. Luisa wanted to be of service to others regardless of the task.”

The other half of the second generation portrayed beauty, brawn, and brains.

But before he got to his youngest granddaughter, he needed her assistance for her to finally understand where she stood.

“Mirabel, do you remember what your first word was?”

Of course, she didn’t remember that, for she had only been a baby, but she had heard the story before. And it had been a source of playful teasing directed at her every now and again, so much so that she couldn’t help but let out a small giggle at the thought of it all. 

“Sita,” she answered. “As in Casita.”

Pedro chuckled; he would never forget how adorable that moment was. Little did anyone know that simple word would come to reflect all that Mirabel was.

“That’s right. And do you know why that is?”

“Because I loved Casita?”

She hated the fact that she had to refer to her beloved home in the past tense, but she knew that the house couldn’t have been left standing, not with the way the cracks had spread with her departure. Casita had been a vital member of her family because they were the only ones she could trust with her innermost feelings, and they always seemed to respond to her whenever she needed some support and encouragement. Which is why she figured Casita’s name had been her first word. However, much to her surprise, Pedro gently shook his head.

“It’s more than that Mirabel, ever since you comprehend the world around you, you always had one thing in mind. Our family. Casita was more than just a house; they represented our familia,” he explained. “Lo único que siempre quisiste fue tener la oportunidad de ayudar a nuestra familia.”

As if to prove his point, the butterflies started to gather around her, which caused her to let out a small gasp over the sudden interaction. She started to look around, her eyes tracing over the beauty of their golden wings and basking in the glow of the warmth they were creating as they joined her side. That’s when her grandfather let go of her face and offered his hands to the little wonders, to which some of them responded to his request by landing on his fingers. Much to her surprise, a few also took the liberty of decorating her person. But what made the butterflies on her special compared to the ones on her grandfather was the fact their bodies were adorned with motifs. Not just any motifs either, the ones that represented the current generations of her family. Herbs, the sun, an hourglass, flowers, soundwaves, a dumbbell, a chameleon, and a toucan… they were all there. And when she looked up, she could see the symbols of potential gifts flying above her. Pedro couldn’t help but smile at the image before him, the little beings truly adored his grandchild.

“My children represent the past, present, and future. One half of my grandchildren reflect the ability to hear, see, and speak. And the other half portray the dynamic of beauty, brawn, and brain,” Pedro said as he gently petted one of the butterflies in his palm. “Julieta, past. Pepa, present. Bruno, future. Dolores, hearing. Camilo, seeing. Antonio, speaking. Isabela, beauty. Luisa, brawn. And Mirabel, brain.”

And there it was, that’s where Mirabel Madrigal stood within her family. She was the brain. However, she had yet to realize the full extent of her position within the clan.

“Magic and gifts emphasize the person and their aspirations, but you were born with the necessary loving heart, endless empathy, and open mind needed to help our family. There was nothing the miracle candle could give you that would have helped you in the way you needed, you already possessed it. Granting you an otherworldly skill would have merely taken your focus away from that mi pequeña maravilla.”

Then he reached out to the butterflies attached to her, the ones with the toucan and hourglass designs flew onto the tips of her fingers. He smiled at them, clearly proud over what they represented. Or rather, who they reflected. He also couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle as he recalled how it had been the youngest of each branch who came together in their hour of need. Bruno, his youngest child. Mirabel, his youngest granddaughter, and grandchild from Julieta. And Antonio, his youngest grandson and grandchild from Pepa.

“The brain is a marvelous organ to behold, for without it there would be no life within these vessels we call bodies. Not to mention that it hosts a very vital abstract concept: the mind. Your brain, your mind, is a wonder Mirabel, for no one else could possibly possess it,” he said. “A gift such as yours allowed for you to have your eyes open from an early age. Because of it you found those who were lost.”

That’s when he held out the finger that had been decorated with Antonio’s gift.

“Antonio would have never been able to face his fears without your guidance and support. Your everlasting love shined through the uncertainty, your empathic nature validated his feelings, and your open mind gave him the strength he needed to gain a new experience.”

With that the toucan covered butterfly fluttered around her face, landing on her nose as if to give her a kiss. She smiled as she thought of the little boy who seemed to think that she had hung the stars. Then her grandfather extended the finger that held Bruno’s blessing.

“Bruno lived in Casita’s walls because he honestly believed no one would ever need him. But you proved him wrong by seeking him out first. Your eternal love opened his heart, your vehement actions motivated him to return, and your impartial wit accepted all that he was without judgement.”

The hourglass coated butterfly flew right on top of her head the moment Pedro finished with his point. Mirabel knew that if anyone was worthy of respect and a chance at happiness, it was her uncle. He had sacrificed so much for her sake, she only wished she could have repaid him for his selflessness. However, it seemed her Abuelo wasn’t through just yet as he motioned for two more butterflies to follow him. The winged insects possessing the flower and dumbbell motifs landed on the palms of his open hands. He lifted the two of them up as if the emphasize his next point.

“With your brain and mind, you were able to show our family new sides of their abilities and themselves, pieces that they were forced to keep hidden in fear of letting everyone down. One, you proved to them how perfection doesn’t allow for true growth. And the other, you displayed how vulnerability isn’t weakness but a sign of true strength. You provided them with an outlet to break through their facades and accept who they really are.”

The two butterflies launched from his hands and gracefully danced around her as if to demonstrate their agreement with his statement. She wondered if her sisters held her in the same high regard she did with them, even after all that had happened.

“Because of your gift, you’ve been able to see things no one else has, no matter who or what it was. Antonio, you saw that he needed your help to walk to his door. Bruno, you saw that his abilities were needed to ensure a future. Isabela, you saw how much she suffered for the sake of flawlessness. Luisa, you saw how much she had been burdened with,” Pedro added. “The same goes for the cracks that had been plaguing Casita for years before Antonio’s birthday. You were the first to see how serious their existence was and tried to call attention to it. Deep down, you’ve always had a feeling that not everything was fine within the Madrigal household, and with the miracle itself.”

Then his arms stretched to gesture to the world around them.

“Do you think anyone else could see this? Do you believe that someone other than yourself would have the ability to be here, to witness and interact with things not of this world anymore?” he questioned. “These waters of gold, these ethereal essences, these winged promises… they’re all for you because you possess the gift needed to be at the center of it all.”

The butterflies left the two Madrigals but they didn’t stray far, rather they simply floated and waited for what was to come. The true extent and purpose of Pedro returning to this world.

“A gift, just as special as you.”

Those familiar words sent Mirabel spiraling, she was now lost in a torrid of peaks and valleys as she recalled everything that had ever happened in her life. Ten years of living under the pretense of being “giftless” and it turns out that she hadn’t been that after all. Words could not express the jubilation she was feeling, the relief of knowing that she hadn’t been the cause of any destruction, and the confusion of not knowing what she was supposed to do with the information her grandfather had bestowed upon her. Even with his newfound knowledge, she knew that she couldn’t go back to the Encanto. It was a place frozen in time and set in the old ways, the townspeople lived with a certain mindset, and the Madrigals, especially Alma, had enabled that way of life for so long that it would take more than her word to break down those walls. Things wouldn’t change because they’d proven repeatedly that was what they were most afraid of. They wouldn’t believe her story of her encounter with her grandfather, they wouldn’t believe that everything they knew about the miracle wasn’t as straightforward as they thought, and they certainly wouldn’t believe that gifts were more than just magical abilities… that she had been blessed with a gift after all.

Besides, everyone wanted grandiose ways to help the Encanto… they weren’t looking for the things Pedro had described regarding her abilities.

“Abuelo, if that is my gift, then I guess I wasn’t helping my family in the way they needed,” she confessed. “But I love my family… I just don’t…”

She paused, taking in a deep yet slow breath as the heartache returned.

“I just don’t know what to do anymore… I believe everything you say about the miracle and the magic… and me…”

She truly did, but she had only learned this information today, it didn’t erase the years of being labeled as the outcast in a magical family.

“But, despite all of that, it feels like there’s this tiny voice in my head that still finds a way to blame me for all the bad things that happened… and I don’t know how much more I can keep it down… before it all becomes too much.”

Tears rained down her face, some stained her face and blouse while others imprinted into the currents of gold. She immediately thought of that heated confrontation between the family matriarch and herself. What she confessed to in that moment was ten years’ worth of keeping down the unspoken, invisible pain of always waiting for a miracle, always walking alone, and always longing to shine like all of them shined. Look at the cracks she had left behind the moment she finally let the walls come down. She had lashed out at the people she loved more than anyone in this life. What was going to happen the next time she gave into temptation? What would she break? Who would she hurt? She didn’t want to imagine it, that wasn’t the Mirabel she knew.

She couldn’t do it anymore… she didn’t want to do it anymore.

“Abuelo, I did something very wrong.”

She started to sob once more. However, she didn’t dare utter what her sin had been, for she just couldn’t bear to repeat it again. Thankfully, Pedro didn’t need her to say anymore on the matter as he gently placed his forehead over hers. He had witnessed his youngest granddaughter at her lowest point, she hadn’t even been given a chance to defend herself. And what made the matter worse is that no one had responded to her cry for help even though his family had been well known for offering their assistance and support to those who needed it. He loved his family too, but there were times when they disappointed him. This had been one of those times.

"Becoming a prisoner of the past isn’t the proper way to live your life nieta, it will only hurt you more in the end as well as those around you.”

He knew that all too well and it wasn’t just Alma who was guilty of it, but everyone else in the Encanto as well. They’ve allowed the past to define them for too long now, so much so that they can never truly grow in the way mortals were meant to. He couldn’t allow the future to reach such an outcome, and he refused to let Mirabel walk that path any longer. She deserved better, and she would receive it from the opportunity he had been sent to offer her. He thanked the higher power he served for this chance, even if it meant that Mirabel wouldn’t be Mirabel Madrigal anymore. With a small sigh, and a heart heavy with a combination of anticipation and loss, he took his youngest granddaughter’s hands into his own.

“Mirabel, what if I told you there was a way to save the miracle?”

That certainly caught her attention, her body tensed at the very mention of what she had left behind, but at the same time, hope filled her eyes and ignited the spark she had been graced with since the day of her birth. And that was all Pedro needed to see to know that he was making the right decision. If there was one thing Mirabel loved more than anything and anyone else in this entire world, it was their family. It was only a shame that such devotion had been taken for granted, and never truly acknowledged in the way that could have prevented all of this.

“T-there is?” she stuttered.

He simply nodded; he knew that he would have to tread cautiously with this proposition, because deep down there was some fear that she wouldn’t accept it. However, that didn’t mean that he didn’t hold onto the hope that she would make the choice that would benefit her in the long run.

“Our miracle was given to us by a higher power, one that has been watching over humanity for centuries, born from the unselfish, loyal, and benevolent concern for the good of one another between mortals. They fashioned such affection into a conduit between this world and the next,” he stated as his fingers caressed the side of her face. “The candle may have gone out, but the magic itself isn’t dead. Rather, it lingers, just waiting for the next conduit to take the candle’s place. And that’s where you come in mi mariposita.”

Mirabel couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Immediately, her mind wandered to the moment where she refused to admit that she hadn’t seen the cracks during Antonio’s ceremony. And while Julieta never called her a liar, it was clear that she did hold some reservations about the matter, clearly caught between wanting to be a supportive mother and upholding tradition. At the end of their conversation, Julieta had warned her to be careful with her words and actions to prevent her from walking the same path as Bruno. She claimed that her youngest sibling had lost their way in the family, something she feared would happen with Mirabel as well if she strayed. The encounter had only enforced the idea that her wayward uncle had been some sort of bad omen, someone who no one wanted around simply because they believed he had been a harbinger of malicious intent. And honestly, the only thing Mirabel had taken from that conversation was the confirmation that there were people who saw her in such a manner as well.

Slowly but surely, her Abuelo’s words pierced through the harsh walls created by the misconceptions of the townspeople and the Madrigals. It was clear that he didn’t see her as any of those things, and by the sound of it, he hadn’t been the only one. Whoever this magical deity was, they seemed to hold her with some high regard, which caused her face to burn with flattery.

“The burning candle was reborn through sacrifice and fanned with magic, but the flame was fueled by unconditional love. And out of all the Madrigals, it was clear who would be the one to ensure that such a legacy would live on, that’s why they weren’t given a tangible talent like the rest. For they already had everything they would need to secure the way for tomorrow,” he added, but that was when Mirabel’s noticed a small hint of sorrow in his eyes. “You have the ability to return what was lost to the Encanto, to the townspeople, to Casita, and to the Madrigals because you possess the spark needed for the magic to kindle into a flame.”

Despite that promising start, Mirabel could feel that there was more to come. If there was one thing she learned from being a part of a fantastical dynasty like the Madrigals, it’s that nothing came without a price. She could only wonder what exactly that meant for her, she had to open her eyes.

“However, for that to be accomplished, history must repeat itself once more. A sacrifice must be offered for blessings to take root.”

And there it was. Mirabel felt her blood run cold as she stared at her grandfather with disbelief. A part of her knew that she shouldn’t have been so surprised, but it was still shattering to hear it for herself. Alas, even with that being the case, she knew that she couldn’t turn away now. She had come too far, and deep down, she was prepared to do anything if it meant that the world known as the Encanto could keep on turning. Even if she was required to follow her grandfather’s lead and surrender her life.

Pedro could sense his nieta’s apprehension, but he could also feel her determination as well. She was ready. She had been patient, and steadfast, and steady. And for that, he was more than proud.

“Sacrifice does not always entail the ending of a life Mirabel. In fact, much like with gifts, it can take other forms as well.”

That certainly caught her off guard, much to his amusement and grief. Such a reaction meant that his youngest granddaughter had been more than set to sacrifice her life for the sake of those in the Encanto. His familia and the town would never truly understand how deep this girl’s love for them ran. Mirabel, on the other hand, was puzzled over such a statement, what did that mean exactly? If it wasn’t the loss of life, then what kind of sacrifice would be enough to return the magic? That’s when Pedro leaned closer to her, his forehead touching hers as he continued to hold onto her hands.

“The divine being is known as the Giver of Miracles, and the magic they hold can do more than just create ethereal objects and bestow otherworldly abilities onto people. They also have the power to give mortals the opportunity to start over. Instead of writing a new page or beginning a new chapter, they can help a person create a whole new book. Such was the case with Alma, for she was able to begin again in a new world,” he said as his hold on her tightened. “And now it’s your turn, they’ve decided this is the moment for you to receive your second chance. However, your story shall start completely different than your grandmother’s, and it is tied to your gift.”

It went without saying that she was more than eager to know what she could offer to such an all-powerful deity if they didn’t want her life. And how would her gift guide her to such a point?

“Your brain is a true wonder because it houses a mind unlike any other, one that has always been opened regardless of the circumstances you find yourself in. Which is why the Giver of Miracles would like to expand upon that gift by granting you a new door.”

Memories of a bittersweet past flooded her mind, especially the day where burning adoration transformed into ambiguity the moment she touched that doorknob and watched her future fade away. Mirabel loved everything about the miracle candle and the blessings it bestowed upon her family, but even she had to admit that it stung to know that everyone else had a domain of their own, and yet she would always belong to the Nursery. Doors beaming with golden hues and etched with the names of their holders, she thought she would never know that honor, but if there was anything she slowly realizing today, it’s that the impossible didn’t seem impossible anymore.

Pedro could sense the apprehension emitting from his youngest granddaughter, yet there was also a hint of excitement shining through her as well. He was more than proud of his nieta, she was processing all this profound truth like a true champion, if it had been anyone in her position, they would have cracked. Such a fact only cemented Mirabel’s purpose, which also added to the guilt he was currently experiencing now. There were no lies in his words, but that didn’t mean he was being completely transparent with her either. He had been given the task to soothe her wounds and offer her true comfort and support, but even he was limited with what he could share with her regarding the magic and its creator.

As much as he wanted to, he just couldn’t tell her true role in the family, the future that she was meant to create, because it wouldn’t be fair to her. If he revealed all the details to her now, he knew that she would turn back... and he couldn’t let that happen. She had to break the cycle, she had to fly till she found her way toward tomorrow.

All she needed was a change. All she needed was a chance. She just couldn’t stay on the side any longer.

Open your eyes, open your eyes, open your eyes.

They never did… and that’s why she was here.

“This door shall lead you to a whole new world…”

He prepared himself for what he had to say, what he was bound to say, even if it meant letting go of Mirabel.

“One where the past doesn’t exist…”

Confusion began to creep in Mirabel’s mind once again, she didn’t understand the extent of Pedro’s offer until he continued to speak, going into precise detail of what the opportunity entailed.

“One where you shall be given a new identity, a new face…”

Her eyes were starting to widen as a fierce realization dawned upon her, she had a feeling she knew what her grandfather was going to say next.

“And a new mind.”

Mirabel let out a small gasp. She understood the intent, and yet she couldn’t help but ask for clarification, just in case she had gotten the wrong idea.

“A-Abuelo, what does that mean?”

Pedro Madrigal knew he should have expected such a reception, nevertheless, this was the task the Heavens had given him themselves. And he intended to complete it.

“You have the ability to restore the Encanto to its former glory by erasing all that is you.”

As if to accent his point, his eyes traced the stitched masterpieces that decorated her outfit before they landed on the small magenta butterfly on her shoulder. His granddaughter was quite the talented seamstress, her skills with a needle and thread even outmatched experts in the craft. However, out of all the projects she had worked on, he knew that her colorful ensemble was her pride and joy. Mainly because it had been a representation of what she loved most in this world: La Familia Madrigal. And by extension, it was a representation of all that was her as well… because she allowed it to be.

Everyone inside the Encanto was guilty for thinking that everything was by design and that everyone had a role, they held these beliefs to varying degrees. The townspeople thought that the Madrigals sole purpose was to assist them with their daily routines. Alma was convinced that the gifts bestowed upon her family were all that they were capable of. The Madrigal children and grandchildren felt that they couldn’t expand their horizons when it came to their “labels” and abilities. As for Mirabel, due to plenty of misconceptions and miscommunication, she believed that if she couldn’t achieve what the rest of them could, then she could at least capture their greatness through her craft. In her mind, she didn’t have anything to represent herself, who she truly was, so she became a walking canvas of her magical roots.

Ironically, the people she had stitched together within the fabric of her clothes, were the strings holding her back from her future. He knew Mirabel well enough to know that she would have some reservations about making such a life-changing decision if it somehow involved the family.  

“All that represents me…” she whispered as her eyes followed her grandfather’s lead.

A hand reached to touch the threaded butterfly as the other hand gripped the edge of her skirt. She understood the meaning behind Abuelo’s words. 

“Nuestra familia,” she stated. “Todo lo que representa a la persona que intenté ser son ellos.”

He simply nodded his head.

“Sí, all that you are: your past, your identity, your face, and your mind… it can all be traced back to them,” he explained. “That’s why your sacrifice holds so much power and why the Giver of Miracle is asking for them as the price needed to reestablish the miracle candle and the magic it holds.”

Mirabel stood there in disbelief; the full extent of the proposition was truly sinking in now, especially when it reminded her of the internal conflict she found herself experiencing the more time passed. Bearing witness to her relatives’ gifts and their grandiose outcomes, as well as the positive reception they garnered from the public made her wish she could be viewed with high regard, but it also made her wonder whether or it would have been easier if she hadn’t been born as a Madrigal. Things certainly would have been different if she had just been another civilian living in the Encanto. She wouldn’t have to worry about the pressures that came with upholding a prominent legacy, she wouldn’t have to accept the fact that she would never be good enough for anyone, she wouldn’t have to face the stigma of being the only nonmagical member in a magical family, and she wouldn’t be plagued by the storm of negativity she was currently caught in.

And she wouldn’t have had that heated confrontation with Alma Madrigal.

Before that moment, she had dreamed of that kind of life, one where her needs would be catered to by magic and where she could be oblivious to the cracks that haunted Casa Madrigal. But now that she was given the option to make that dream a reality, it was numbing to say the least… as well as enticing? She couldn’t help but feel a little sick to her stomach at that sentiment, mainly because there was some part of her that argued it didn’t feel right to simply let it all disappear.

For it to fade away like that door. She shivered at the thought of it all.

That was when her thoughts were interrupted by Abuelo Pedro’s voice.

“Mirabel, even though I am proud of your endless love for our family, you can’t be bound to them forever. Not like this.”

He was about to offer his own perspective on the matter, it was the cold yet liberating truth she had to hear, even if her expression was now filled with concern and hesitation.

“Abuelo…”

He interrupted her, although there had been no malice in his voice. She needed to hear this.

“Don’t undervalue your worth nieta! Don’t let the past poison your life any more than it already has. You are more than worthy of this second chance. You’ve been given the opportunity of a lifetime. You’re not too late for a miracle.”

That certainly struck a chord with her, apparently he had heard her during that enthusiastic declaration of readiness. However, she couldn’t deny that it had hurt her to some degree because deep down, she knew it was the truth. At the end of the day, no matter how much she loved her family, she knew that it was that very love that had caused her to break.

“Abuelo, have you given up on our family?”

She didn’t say it out of ill intent, but rather so she could better understand his actions and feelings. Especially when he had spoken so highly of their parientes earlier. At that question, Pedro Madrigal let out a gentle sigh, and for the first time since their encounter, Pedro faced his back to her. His form looked hunched and worn out despite still maintaining that heavenly aura, and even though she couldn’t see his face, she could sense that he was lost in deep thought. After a minute of silence, he finally spoke.

“The love I have for our family is endless, whichever life I possess hasn’t affected that at all,” he said. “But that doesn’t mean that I agree with everything they do. Good intentions don’t always mean good outcomes.”

Another sigh escaped his lips.

“I tried so many times to help your Abuela, to help our familia, open their eyes. They prayed for guidance, they asked for assistance, and they begged for explanations. And even though I no longer possess a physical form or a voice, I tried to provide them with the answers they wanted through so many ways.”

Finally, he turned to face her. And Mirabel took note of the expression currently adorning his face. It was a combination of regret and disappointment, and she couldn’t help but sympathize with her Abuelo. She understood those feelings all too well. Listening wasn’t their family’s strongest attribute, and they when did, it typically involved something they wanted to hear rather than what they needed to hear. Then there was also their inability to read in between the lines while jumping to biased conclusions, most of which were never positive. She merely nodded her head in silent agreement, clearly comprehending how her grandfather faced his own challenges in regard to communicating with their family.

“But at the end of the day, I can only do so much, especially when there are rules concerning the boundaries between this world and the next.”

His body was now facing her direction and brown eyes bore into her own.

“Humans aren’t given the promise of happiness, they’re not meant to be immune to suffering, and they certainly weren’t designed to know all the answers or be given them so easily.”

Even though such a declaration went against everything she knew and had been taught about the Encanto, Mirabel couldn’t help but accept as the truth. Perhaps they all become blinded at some point in their lives to the degree where they forgot that at the end of the day, no amount of magic would ever erase the fact that they were still human. And being human meant imperfection. She nodded again.

His hand wandered to the side of her face and caressed her cheek before moving against her glasses.

“Only through open eyes will mortals ever hope to find what they’re looking for,” Pedro whispered. “Like you.”

Mirabel was starting to comprehend why she had been entrusted with such a decision. It seemed like she really was different than everyone else, but not for the reasons they originally believed. However, before she gave the matter any more thought, she needed to know one thing. 

“What about our family?” she asked, her tone was quiet but full of sincerity. "¿Qué será de ellos?"

Even with all that had happened, Mirabel still held their family with high importance. How many people could say that if they had been in her position? It only served to add to Pedro’s disappointment with his household, how had they been so blind to this child’s undying love and selflessness?

In a way, she was a lot like his wife during the days of their youth, a time that she had allowed herself to forget and be replaced with fear and an unhealthy need for control.

“Sacrifice is what sparked the magic to take root in the candle while unconditional love fueled its flame throughout the years. Your choice in the matter shall function as both the sacrifice and the fuel needed to restore our miracle,” he explained. “Everything and everyone will go back to the way they were if you decide to take this path.”

As if on cue the motif covered butterflies returned and fluttered around the two Madrigals once more, Pedro gestured to them to accent his point.

“The Encanto will be self-sufficient once more, Casita will live again, and everyone’s gifts shall be reestablished.”

She bit her lip as her head fell, her gaze locked onto the golden waters that still surrounded them. Her eyes were open, and yet she still needed to know if she heard him correctly.

“But I won’t remember them will I?” she questioned. “Casita, mis padres, mis hermanas, mis tíos, mi tía, mi prima, mis primos… Abuela.”

Then her eyes turned their attention back to the heavenly specter.

“Tú.”

She had just been reunited with him, and now there was a possibility she would have to forget about him, about all of them. And she didn’t know if she had the strength to do that. Her family was her life, who would she be without them? A sad smile now decorated Pedro’s face as he slowly shook his head.

“No, you won’t, but that won’t stop me from watching over you just like I’ve been doing since the day I found out you were going to be born.”

The Madrigal patriarch took her hands into his own, his grip was firm yet gentle. At this point, nothing would make him happier than to see his youngest granddaughter live her life to the fullest, to show the world her contagious, beautiful smile, and to finally be free of the burdens of the past. Someone had to break the cycle, and that someone was Mirabel Madrigal.

“Por favor Mirabel, tienes que creerme. No hagas lo que hicieron ellos, no mires detrás de ti. Debes volar hasta mañana.”

He leaned his forehead over hers, familial love was shining in his eyes.

“And no matter what, I will always be proud of you,” he said. “What will your choice be?”

With that question, silence consumed the air, but her mind raced with endless chains of thought. Familiar faces, broken bonds, comfortable settings, cracks in the foundation, an everchanging yet established routine, defining purposes, words of support, aloof responses, eyes of adoration, gazes of wariness, colors of the rainbow, gray and unlively world… and doors that had marked the beginning of the end for her. All of that was playing in her mind at the moment.

Her hands slowly slipped out of her grandfather’s, an action he hesitated to allow but nonetheless allowed. With that her fingers began to wander around her face, they traced her features and took it all that was her. While the teenager had some reservations about her appearance, especially when she felt she lacked the appeal her relatives possessed, she had come to accept how she looked. She had learned to love what she had been born with, because she had to remind herself that her traits were obtained through the Madrigal family. If she couldn’t have a gift, then at least she could take some comfort in knowing that she was related to people who possessed one, and the idea that maybe a few people did see traces of her in the rest of them.

And then there was her name, Mirabel. Much like her appearance, it was something she had come to adore with all her heart. Her parents had put a lot of thought into their children’s names. Isabela’s name meant bountiful and plenty, because as the firstborn grandchild, she had been promised everything and would give everything in return. Luisa’s name was associated with fierceness that matched a renowned warrior, because she had been born so fragile and little yet overcame the impossible. As for her, her title wasn’t exactly a common name in their culture, but that’s why it had been chosen. Her padres knew that she would be their last child, therefore, she would hold the unique position of being their last gift to this world. She would be special, she would be a true wonder, just like definition of her name.

Abuela Alma even noted that Mirabel sounded like “miracle.”

You are a wonder Mirabel Madrigal.

It still hurt to think about that moment, because she couldn’t recall there ever being anymore between Alma and her. And yet, despite that, the only thing she could think of right now was the matriarch and the branches she had helped create with Pedro.

Abuelo had given them a life, now she had the chance to give it back. The real question was, could she really go through with it? She hadn’t felt this conflicted since Antonio’s ceremony, hoping that he wouldn’t end up like her because he deserved better, but still afraid of losing the only person who could understand her. The same could be said for now, she didn’t want to forget all that represented her especially when it felt like doing so wouldn’t be fair, everyone would remember her at her worst but she wouldn’t. Besides, in spite of all she had been forced to endure, she felt she could never truly forsake her family. She loved them, she truly did, even if she would never be seen as anything other than the giftless Madrigal in their eyes. And honestly she couldn’t imagine her life without anyone or anything from the Encanto. It was all she had ever known, where could she possibly go if not there?

Alas, the benefits of erasing her past seemed to outweigh the detriments. The miracle would be restored to its full glory, something she knew the townspeople and the Madrigal clan would want more than anything in this world at this point. Everything they ever did was for the sake of keeping the miracle burning, it wouldn’t be right to let those efforts be in vain all because she interfered with those plans. How could she deprive the future of their blessings? Especially her bloodline, what about the Madrigals that had yet to be born? They deserved to live in a world where they could be a part of a shining constellation rather than live a dull existence like her. She didn’t want Antonio to be spurned like she had, deprived of a tangible magical talent and an ethereal realm to call his own. Such a desire also applied to those who would come after him.  

And besides, she couldn’t deny that she would be gaining several advantages because of this proposition. With a new mind, nothing would matter anymore. Yes, the things that she held near and dear to her heart would cease to exist, but so would the uncertainties and insecurities too. All of the unspoken and invisible pain that had been born from the fact she would never be good enough for her family would disappear. She wouldn’t be able to hurt anyone else in the manner she had done during that unfair battle of will. Concepts like upholding a magical birthright, living with the pressures of being quintessential in everything she did and said, and forsaking her individuality for conformity wouldn’t matter anymore. As for her memories, well, she had done her best to treasure them, but it was time for her to face the grim truth they held. They had only added to her damage. Unpleasant recollections only served to remind her how she would never be a true Madrigal and that she was alone in that regard. While benevolent moments were nothing more than echoes from a past lost to time and overshadowed by the bad occurrences. Overall, there would be no benefit in keeping these memories any longer, especially when they would offer no productive outcome. At least by forgetting, she would be able to accomplish something wonderful.  

She wouldn’t be a stain on the Madrigal name anymore. They devoted their lives to serve their community, they used their gifts for the greater good rather than for selfish endeavors. They shouldn’t have to worry about her ruining that reputation and perfect image.

Which was bittersweet for her because at the end of the day, all she ever wanted was to make her family proud.

Make your family proud.

As soon as those words started to echo throughout her mind, everything else had come to a standstill. Her eyes widen with realization as her mouth became agape, her body felt as light as a feather and as warm as the sun itself.

She knew what she wanted.

She wanted to make her family proud.

And she finally had the chance to accomplish that goal… by following in her grandfather’s footsteps and making a sacrifice. She would lose her life, just not in the manner her grandfather had. She would still be here, but she would be someone new, someone who wouldn’t be defined by a past she had no control over. There was no life for her in the Encanto, maybe there hadn’t been one for ten years now, and it took her self-destruction as well as the dismantling of a magical heritage for her to finally accept that. With that it mind, would it really be wrong for her to sacrifice her past self, especially when the fruits it would bear would be a desirable outcome for the Encanto? As stated before, the benefits outweighed the detriments. And maybe, just maybe, there truly was a life awaiting for her on the other side.

The Encanto had been a paradise, but perhaps a life outside of it could be more of a paradise.

As for her family, she knew that they were more than capable of living without her, especially when her choice would restore vital pieces of themselves. They will have their gifts returned to them and they can go back to their usual routines, all the while never having to deal with her ever again. It was a win-win situation all around.

Mamá and Papá had two other daughters they could love in her place, said daughters were more than enough because they were perfect in every way.

Tía Pepa and Tío Félix didn’t need her to begin with, especially when one blamed her for the events that unfolded in their family, while the other only fueled the gossip and rumors.

Tío Bruno had managed to live away from her for ten years, several more wouldn’t do him any harm in the slightest.

Her hermanas, Isabela and Luisa, had their own lives to get back to, they didn’t need her to be interfering with those plans.

Her primos, Dolores and Camilo, had already disregarded her in favor of serving those around them.

Her primito, Antonio, loved her now but how long would that last now that he had a gift to call his own?

And then there was Abuela Alma. She was more than sure that the woman would consider her departure to be a blessing in itself, especially when it will bring back the miracle she revered.  

They always forgot about her; this wouldn’t be any different. If anything, she was making it easier for them to do so.

Make your family proud.

Yes, she intended to do so. That would be her final act as a Madrigal, as Mirabel Madrigal. She wished those back at the Encanto nothing but the best from life, and she hoped to find that opportunity for herself as well.

“Forgive me everyone,” she whispered.

She was so selfish… and for once she was okay with that.

She had made her decision. Her gazed fixated on her grandfather for what would be the very last time. Out of everyone that could have been here, she was happy that it was him. Because right now she didn’t feel as alone as she did before.

“Yes.”

One hand moved over her heart as the other fell to her side.

“Bless me now as you blessed us all those years ago.”

Pedro beamed with pride at his youngest granddaughter.

“I knew this would be your path.”

The Madrigal patriarch leaned closer to Mirabel.

“The miracle is not some magic that you got, the miracle is you, not some gift, just you.”

He then placed a gentle kiss on her forehead.

“All of you.”

With that his arms slowly encompassed her in an embrace, which caught her off guard at first but she slowly leaned into the warmth emitting from his form. As she did so her grandfather’s gaze turned to the butterflies. With a simple nod of his head, they began to form a gold whirlwind around them. Mirabel let out a small gasp as their bodies seemed to shine brighter than ever before, in fact, the whole world looked as if the rightful order had been restored. She no longer saw the dull color of gray and ash, but rather the rainbow that had embodied all that she loved in this world.

She hadn’t been too late for a miracle.

“Cierra los ojos,” Pedro whispered.

She did as she was told and slowly felt herself getting lost in the miraculous splendor, so much so that she lost consciousness. And it wasn’t long before the two Madrigals were lifted out of the Caño Cristales river due to the butterflies flight, but Mirabel wasn’t capable of calling attention to anything at the moment. In fact, she didn’t even notice when some of the golden insects took the liberty of loosening the threads that tied the magenta butterfly that adorned the shoulder of her blouse. Within seconds, the handmade creation fell from Mirabel’s outfit and landed in the river, whose brilliant yellow color started to fade away with the grandfather and granddaughter duo.

They considered that to be a goodbye present, even if nobody would realize that. Once their task had been completed, they returned to the radiant tempest as the final verse of the song serenaded the sacred location.

Ay mariposas, no se aguanten más

Hay que crecer aparte y volver

Hacia adelante seguirás

Ya son milagros, rompiendo crisálidas

Hay que volar, hay que encontrar

Su propio futuro

Mirabel Madrigal, a child that was forever defined as the “giftless” member of a magical family, often found herself underestimated. Many believed that she wasn’t as capable of living up to her bloodline’s reputation, and some thought that they only way she could provide her aid was by staying out of the way and letting the others work. Only a handful of people saw her for who she truly was, someone who held a power unlike any other.  

She could move the mountains by providing a strength that was often overlooked, an emotional support for those who forgot they were human. She could make new trees and flowers grow, she offered a new way of viewing the world and turned the basic of shades into the brightest of hues. She could heal what was broken, she acted as the stitches that could make imperfections and blemishes beautiful. She could control the morning rain and a hurricane; people couldn’t help but show her who they truly wanted to be. She could show her family something new, she was the only member of their family strong enough to confront the source of their issues and problems head on.

And she certainly was the only one selfless enough to accept such an offer and make her sacrifice. Mirabel Madrigal was a true wonder to behold.

With that, all the magical embodiments of the miracle disappeared, leaving no trace of its existence behind. However, just then, a familiar figure made their way through the forest to the very location where it all began. Only they failed to realize that while it hadn’t been too late for Mirabel, it had been too late for them.

“Mirabel?”

Chapter Text

Long ago, when three babies had just been born, tragedy had consumed a once peaceful land. A dark shadow had spread across the village as roars of danger pierced the air. Flames didn’t discriminate between buildings of business, education, storage, and shelter. Everyone had been forced to flee the only home they had ever known. Many were able to regroup, but others weren’t so fortunate. In the end, they had been united through their hope of finding a new home. Alas, even with this newfound determination, they could not escape the dangers. A man, the one who had sired the three babies, left his wife and children to save their future. And in the end, he was lost.

But in their darkest moment, they were given a miracle. The candle that had been carried by the couple became a magical flame that could never go out. A bright light pushed back the threats and blessed them with a refuge in which to live. A new summit had burst from the grounds to block off the hazards as vast vegetation of both the edible and inedible variety had taken root while rivers were rerouted to surround the freshly defined boundaries. It was a place of wonder.

An Encanto. A place where magic reigned.

The miracle grew and a house came to life to shelter them. It was a structure that flowed with sentience and represented a promise for a better future. And when the three babies from the beginning came of age, the miracle blessed each with a magic gift to help the Encanto. They grew up, as all children do, and some moved onto the next steps in life: courtship and parenthood. And when their children came of age, they acquired magic too. Together, the family’s gifts made their new home a paradise.

Overall, it was something that seemed to fit the beginning of fairytale. And for a long time, it was. At least, in the eyes of the people who had lived in the Encanto their whole lives. It had been nearly fifty years since the settlement had been born and yet no one could have ever foreseen their sanctuary being reduced to such a state. A large crack had pierced through the village, sending its tendrils to the outer limits, the mountains themselves couldn’t withstand such a fierce impact as they split apart for the first time in decades. But it wasn’t that fact that worried the townspeople the most. Rather, it’s where the cracks originated that made them realize that the fairytale had become a nightmare.

The mystical house, one that once had life coursing through its makeup, was now nothing more than a pile of debris and ruins. The people had gathered around the scene, some refusing to believe it was true until they saw it for themselves, while others wished to see if there had been any casualties in the fallout. A few stayed behind to ensure the safety of the villagers, as the rest were drawn to the devastation. Immediately, they were greeted by the sight of the family that had put down roots within the magical compound. Thankfully, they hadn’t been inside the building when the structure became unstable. However, that relief was soon replaced with worry and fear when they realized what else had been lost with the collapse. The magic, the one that had saved them all those years ago and continued to serve them till this very day, was no more.

The fantastical and magical Madrigals were now lost and ordinary as the rest of the townspeople. Not only that, but soon whispers had spread amongst the crowd concerning the status of the members. Yes, they had been shielded from the brunt of the impact as the house apparently worked to push them away from its decay, but they would soon realize that not everyone was accounted for. And no, it wasn’t the individual they had come to avoid discussing openly. Rather, it was another one of them, the one who didn’t appear to be blessed to the same degree as the rest of the familia.

A butterfly of a different color, the one and only Mirabel Madrigal.

“I hate you.”

Three little words was all it took for everything to unravel, even more than it already had done. And what made the moment even more tragic was that they had been uttered by the last person they’d expected it to be.

Mirabel Madrigal, the youngest granddaughter, and daughter of the family had said those words so easily. They had practically slid off her tongue, eager to meet the one they had been directed towards.

Alma Madrigal, the matriarch of the family and the holder of their miracle candle, had never been one to shock so easily. Living in an active household as well as answering a whole town’s calls had kept her on her toes, so it took a lot to knock her down.

Which is just what happened, metaphorically and literally. 

In that moment, Mirabel had showcased a side of her no had ever seen before. Sweet coffee-colored eyes, ones she thought she would never see again in this lifetime, had become hardened with a newfound emotion. She didn’t flinch or stutter as she spoke those hateful words to her. No, instead, she stood her ground, her stance never wavering as she clutched the sides of her skirt tightly. The teenager showed no hesitation in her actions.

She had meant every single word.

That was all it took for Alma to finally let the walls come down. That sentence had pierced through her heart, injuring her very soul, it disrupted her very core. And for the life of her, she could find no appropriate response. For what could she say? No one had ever dared to use such a phrase against her before… and surprisingly, it came from someone she had least expected.

Her familia… her nieta of all people.

Alma had almost been convinced this was all nothing but a dream… a very bad one. But she knew better than that. Although she couldn’t deny that some aspects of today had most certainly been a nightmare or two in the past. There were some nights where she would toss and turn, waking up in a frightful, cold sweat as she surveyed Casita to ensure that her home was safe and sound. Sometimes she would even wander towards the doors and take a peek inside each and every room just to know that her kin were still being sheltered in their private sanctuaries. Then she would gaze to the outside world only to be greeting with the comforting sight of her home remaining as guarded as the day it had been born. However, never in her wildest dreams and terrors did she picture Mirabel in such a position.

Standing here, glaring at her with such disdain and hurt, openly confessing her hatred towards her, it didn’t match her youngest granddaughter at all. And judging by everyone else’s reactions, it was obvious they were just as lost as her.

Alma couldn’t see her eldest daughter and son-in-law’s responses, but she could only imagine the emotions they were experiencing at the moment. They had done their best to shield Mirabel over the years, to them she would always be that perfect little girl who adored butterflies and capable of bringing life to thread. To see that very child being reduced to such a state must have shattered them.

Alma had always taken pride over the fact that her eldest had been the one to be blessed with healing, because it certainly suited her. From a very young age, she had taken on the caretaker role in order to alleviate the stresses the matriarch faced being a single parent and the town’s leader, but even Alma doubted she could have fixed what was broken right now. Physical healing didn’t always remedy the emotional scars, she knew that all too well.

As for her first son-in-law, Agustín wasn’t known for his tact or grace, but he certainly wasn’t a fool. His affection for his wife and daughters were true and everlasting, and if he was capable of performing such an act, he would have moved heaven and earth for them. However, she feared that sentiment had turned from an endearing promise to a literal nightmare, because it felt like the whole universe had come to and end with Mirabel’s confession.

From the corners of her eyes, she spotted Isabela and Luisa’s response to their sister’s declaration. Isabela seemed to let go of the ideal image she had always portrayed, she was an absolute wreck right now, something she certainly didn’t think her eldest grandchild had the ability to become. She looked like she had been caught between a rock and a hard place as she allowed tears to well within her eyes and gripped the edges of her dress as she did so.

Her third grandchild was the epitome of strength and endurance, always going and never stopping even for the littlest of things. All those years of practice and exercise, testing the limits and breaking through, had made her a force to be reckoned with. The world was practically in the palm of her hands. And yet presently she looked so small and fragile, like the tiniest of movements would make her break.

Despite their differences, both of the young women had expressions that mimicked one from the past, the day Mirabel’s door disappeared, it was a fusion of horrified and shocked. Alma had never wanted such a look to be upon the faces of her beloved familia ever again, and yet here they were.

And then there was her other daughter and her half of the clan. Pepa, the one who struggled the most to keep it together, had finally let go of any defense against her emotions. The whole world had turned gray, but Alma had a feeling that it was more than just Pepa’s gift affecting the weather. Out of all her children, Alma had always considered Pepa to be the one who took after her the most. The middle triplet had inherited most, if not all, of her physical features. And then there was her overall temperamental personality, something Alma could contribute to herself as well. Which is why it didn’t come as a shock to her to see her second daughter being reduced to a broken state.

Her attention soon turned to her other son-in-law and their children. For once Félix didn’t try to help Pepa contain her emotions, instead, he just stood to the side with his mouth agape. His eyes were as wide as saucers as was frozen in place. He had always been the person to know the right thing to say in any situation, but not anymore it seemed. Now he was as quiet as the rats that prowled in Casita’s walls.

Alma’s focus then shifted to the grandchildren she inherited from her second daughter and son-in-law. Dolores, a child well-known for covering her ears in times of excitement and stress, now had her hands placed over her mouth. Her whole body trembled as she did her best to conceal the endless stream of squeaks escaping her lips.

As for Camilo, the boy who seemed to be capable of adapting to anything, and becoming anyone, he remained still for once in a very long time. Ever since the day of his birth, he was a never-ending bundle of energy. Acquiring his gift only accented that. But he seemed to have lost the spark that made him so endearing as his eyes darted back and forth between the two Madrigals. 

And finally, there was Antonio. Alma was sure she had never seen the child look so scared in his life, one so young shouldn’t have to bear such a burden. His eyes matched his father’s, only he wasn’t holding back his tears as they poured down his face like streams. In that moment she noticed that his attention wasn’t even directed to her, but rather to his prima. His small hands were twitching and they looked like they were reaching out to Mirabel. And such a fact didn’t surprise her in the slightest, for she would have been a fool to deny the special bond between her two youngest grandchildren.

Overall, Alma was sure not a single Madrigal had the right words to respond to Mirabel’s declaration. Such an amazing power she didn’t know her nieta had, three simple words had been enough to stun everyone into silence. Mirabel had always desired acknowledgement, and after all this time, Alma knew she had received it in the worst way possible. And it was then that the Madrigal matriarch contemplated the road that had led them to this point.

How did this happen? Why did this happen?

This child, one she had so eagerly taken into her arms on the day of her birth, one she had doted on due to her being the youngest at the time, one she had encouraged to practice the crafts of the past, and the one who she had always regarded as special compared to everyone else. Being the only member of a magical family not to receive a gift or a room wasn’t the only reason for that position. Even before that bleak day and after it, Alma had always considered her youngest granddaughter as special because she never thought she would see another embodiment of the features she possessed ever again. Coffee colored eyes, possessing a sweetness unlike any other. Bewitching cocoa curls that were always soft and lively. A delightful laugh that was partnered with a contagious smile. Imagination and wit that could brighten up the darkest of times. And a natural talent for artistic pursuits, capable of capturing every single detail on paper and fabric.

They had all belonged to him… to her Pedro.

Mirabel was indeed her parents’ child, as she inherited a share of their characteristics, but Alma never saw her eldest daughter or younger son-in-law whenever she gazed upon the child. Rather, she saw Pedro. Her Pedrito had returned to her in the form of their youngest granddaughter.

But if that was the case, then why had she so easily cast her aside?

However, before Alma could dwell on the matter any longer, something else that could have also belonged to a nightmare happened.

Mirabel had rushed past her, pushing her down in the process of doing so. The teenager made no effort to avoid her as she made her escape from the only home she had ever known. Truthfully, it hadn’t hurt at all. Despite being in her seventies, the woman still possessed a body of stone. The years of aiding her community, protecting their miracle, and fearing loss of any kind had given her the strength she needed to carry on. And yet, regardless of those facts, she had been pushed away so easily. No physical damage had been done, but it still hurt.

Now she was beginning to understand what she had been guilty of doing to Mirabel for ten years now.

And it was then that Alma realized how long it had been since Mirabel and her shared any kind of close contact. She had been so open with her affection towards her other grandchildren: head pats, caresses, hair brushing and tucking, and other occasional touches. But she never allowed herself to extend those gestures to Mirabel… not ever since that day.

Why?

She couldn’t offer a proper answer to that question, especially when her attention turned to her eldest child and youngest granddaughter. She spotted Julieta making her way towards Mirabel. For a second, she thought all would be fine if Julieta could reach Mirabel, just like she had done all those other times. Except she underestimated just how intense and powerful the storm ragging inside the teenager was at the moment. Her eyes widened in horror as she watched Mirabel reject the touch of her mother, she literally slapped her tender hand away from her person. The look on Julieta’s face would forever haunt the Madrigal matriarch, for her expression matched the one she had when she discovered Bruno had disappeared.

It was the look of a broken woman, of a mother yearning for a lost child.

And that was when she heard it… that was when they all heard it. Mirabel’s parting words.

“I hate all of you!”

There were those words again, only this time they didn’t involve just one person. Rather, they were directed towards the whole familia. If the world hadn’t stopped turning before, she was sure it had now. For a split second, the silence became a piercing echo, and all was frozen as Mirabel made her exit. She didn’t even look back; she never gave anyone the chance to respond. Everyone had been stunned into submission once again, so much so that they couldn’t even form a proper reaction. And while the door covered her view of the world after Mirabel slammed it shut, Alma could hear footsteps sprinting, slowly decreasing in sound the longer they continued. And she knew what had happened, Mirabel had left. Just like Bruno. Just like Pedro.

Her first home had been consumed by flames. Pedro had given up his life for their children and her. Mirabel’s door disappeared and she feared what it could have meant. Bruno left without even saying goodbye. Now she was watching the world she had worked so hard to maintain come crashing down… and her nieta was gone. And Mirabel hated her. She hated them.

With all of that in mind, she felt the last of her strength leave her. She couldn’t even lift herself off the ground, not even when Casita started to deteriorate all around her.

This was their darkest moment… this was her darkest moment.

The world shook. The light disappeared. Walls had broken. Furniture came apart. Animals made their escape. The candle’s flame dimmed as it burned through the wax. And yet despite that, none of the Madrigals could move from their place, still frozen by the wounding revelation. If it wasn’t for Casita’s intervention, they would have perished alongside them. With their dying breaths, the house had managed to push every remaining member of the Madrigal clan outside of danger before they ceased to be.

They were gone, it was all gone.

A magical place filled with so many memories, where the impossible became possible, where a multitude of important occasions took place, and where doors housed otherworldly dimensions tied to their occupant… everything had faded away like the supposedly immortal flame that had saved them in their darkest moment.

It was a place that had marked a new beginning for them all, now it seemed to mark the ending too.

Thankfully, everyone was safe, no physical harm had been done to anyone inside or outside the house. And yet the Madrigals couldn’t say that they weren’t hurt. The type of wound they were currently experiencing didn’t belong to the body, but rather the heart, and there was no remedy for that. It was ironic, their home had been founded because of a broken heart, and now it was gone for the same reason.

They were so lost in their grief that they didn’t even notice the people calling out to them. The civilians who had their whims and needs catered to by the Madrigals, were now coming to their aid. They started to gather around them, scanning for any signs of trauma and many of them questioned whether or not they had been injured in the fallout,. But it was the final inquiry that the Madrigals snap back to reality.

“Is everyone here?”

The strongest reaction came from the youngest of the formerly magical clan.

Antonio Madrigal, a child who was only five years old, whose eyes were always sweet and innocent, now bled with tears of anguish. Raw emotions erupted from his body as he contemplated all that he had lost in that very moment. He had just received his gift after waiting with such anticipation and uncertainty. He had been so nervous about his gift ceremony, only because he knew what such a process entailed and the possibilities that awaited him. Both good and bad. But through some miracle, their miracle, he had been blessed with a magical talent that stood out from the rest of his family. He had been able to understand and use a language that no other could master, the chance to communicate with more than just humans. Animals had always possessed a special place in his heart, which is why his gift was more than a dream come true. He had made new friends: Parce, Pico, and Chispi, they had all flocked to him so easily and without fear. They animals had considered him to be a true friend and member of their herd. He had been so excited to share any adventures with them and to act as a link between their world and his own. And yet, that was over before any of the sort could begin. He had lost his animals, his room, his home… however, that all paled in comparison to what he considered to be his greatest loss.

The tears poured down his cheeks as he let out a series of powerful and heart wrenching wails. In response, his mother gathered him in her arms and held him tightly. She ran her hand through his hair as the other patted his back. All the while she did her best to conceal her own sorrow, whispering sweet nothings into his ear and doing her best to reassure him that everything was going to be alright. Alas, Antonio couldn’t believe her words, because she wasn’t the person he wanted to hear it from. Rather, he was seeking comfort from the person who was the embodiment of eternal enthusiasm and affection.

He wanted her. He wanted his prima. He wanted Mirabel.

But she was gone too, and she said something that hurt worse than the loss of his gift and room.

“M-Mirabel hates me!” he cried.

In our darkest moment, we were given a miracle.

Everyone seems to forget that the reason why it was their darkest moment was because they lost an important piece of themselves.

Chapter Text

Hate.

It was only a four letter word, and yet it held so much meaning. It could practically destroy an individual if it was used in the right situation and if it came from the right person.

It’s not like the Madrigals weren’t familiar with the term. They were well aware of what it meant. Some were users of the word, with it being used to describe certain situations rather than people. However, they had never been on the receiving end of such vocabulary. After all, they were the fantastical and magical Madrigals, they had established their community, served its members, and used their gifts for the greater good. They had been beloved by many, they never went without when it came to affection and adoration. They were a perfect constellation.

But make no mistake, they were well aware of the high pedestal they had placed upon, so much so that there were people who desired to be them. Almost everyone in the Encanto wished they could have been blessed to the same degree as the Madrigals. Whether it was occupying a sentiment house who aided with chores and other daily activities, or possessing a mystical ability that provided convenience and entertainment, or just the idea of simply being a part of something grand and important… whatever the case, everyone wanted to be a Madrigal. It was fact that no one in the clan could fault them for either, it seemed to be human nature to be jealous of what one didn’t possess compared to others. However, despite that knowledge, it had never been a serious issue. Everyone had looked up to them, thanked them for their services, and wished for their everlasting fortune. Overall, their familia seemed to be incapable of being hated. But if that was the case, then why had they just been told otherwise? And why did it come from the person they least expected? Words couldn’t even begin to describe what each Madrigal had been feeling in that very moment. They had all been frozen in place, unsure if they could believe what they had just seen and heard, forced to watch helplessly as that individual made their confession and exit so easily

If it wasn’t for Casita’s intervention, they were sure they would have perished alongside them. With their dying breaths, the house had managed to push every remaining member of the Madrigal clan outside of danger, before it shared the same fate as the resident who made their exit long before their demise. They were gone, it was all gone. A magical place filled with so many memories, where the impossible became possible, where a multitude of ceremonies took place, and where doors housed otherworldly dimensions tied to their occupant… everything had faded away like the supposedly immortal flame that had saved them in their darkest hour. It was a place that had marked a new beginning for them all, and now it seemed to mark their ending too.

But it wasn’t until they heard the youngest relative call out her name, that they realized what else had been lost. In that moment, everyone’s attention had turned away from the ruins of their home to remember the wide-eyed, gentle-hearted, selfless, and energetic member of their family. A granddaughter, a daughter, a sister, a niece, and a cousin. She was gone as well, following in the steps of her magical house, her late grandfather, and lost uncle. But her disappearance was not like the others. Casa Madrigal had devoted their remaining time to ensuring the safety of their inhabitants. Pedro Madrigal had whispered words of assurance and love before his untimely death. While Bruno Madrigal hadn’t given any of them a warning as he vanished from the world. However, Mirabel Madrigal had lived up to her reputation of trying to stand out from the rest, as she made a powerful declaration before her departure. She had done something no one had ever done before, and something they would not be forgetting any time soon.

Mirabel Madrigal, a child that was forever defined as the “giftless” member of a magical family, often found herself underestimated. Many believed that she wasn’t as capable of living up to her bloodline’s reputation, and some thought that they only way she could provide her aid was by staying out the way and letting the others work. Only a handful of people saw her for who she truly was, someone who should have been appreciated and adored rather than ignored or dismissed.

She could move the mountains by providing a strength that was often overlooked, an emotional support for those who forgot they were human. She could make new trees and flowers grow, she offered a new way of viewing the world and turned the basic of shades into the brightest of hues. She could heal what was broken, she acted as the stitches that could make imperfections and blemishes beautiful. She could control the morning rain and a hurricane, people couldn’t help but show her who they truly wanted to be. She could show her family something new, she was the only member of their family strong enough to confront the source of their issues and problems head on. And she was most certainly the first to ever admit how she felt about everything and everyone, something no one thought she was capable of doing.

Mirabel Madrigal was truly underestimated.

And that’s why they were here… that’s why she left… that’s why nothing would ever be the same.

Who was going to strengthen their community now?

To strengthen their community, that was the purpose of every Madrigal, whether they were born into the family or joined through a courtship. No one knew that better than the original carriers of their legacy, the three members who started the beginning of a new chapter, and who had set the foundation for the future generations. Each of them had been entrusted with the magical blessings given to them through their father’s sacrifice and their mother’s unconditional love. Their gifts had represented the central divisions of time, and would forever define their roles within their community and family. Interestingly, it had been the first golden child who had carried and bore the left out child. And with a hint of cruel irony, even if she was still in possession of her enchanted talent, she wouldn’t have been able to fix what truly mattered. No amount of magic in the world could ever heal a broken heart… or a broken family.

For as long as she could remember, Julieta Madrigal had always been the one to hold everything together. Being born as the eldest child, she had a duty to tend to those around her, be they sibling or parent or community. At first, such a task was relatively simple to accomplish, especially when the early years had only revolved around her siblings and mother. Pepa and Bruno, her emotional little sister and quiet younger brother, they made quite the trio. She remembered being practically joined at the hip with her hermanitos. Such precious moments seemed to foreshadow the kind of people they would be in the future. She would never forget the days where Pepa would drag the two along in an attempt to play dress up. Or the times where Bruno would craft a play for them to star in. Life had been so simple back then, when she still believed that her family was as strong as the candle that burned so brightly.

Even at an early age Julieta had displayed an interest for cooking, something she knew she learned from watching her mother make meals for her siblings and her. She couldn’t help but notice how food seemed to be a form of language, a means to showcase a cook’s feelings for the people who ate their creations. She recalled the times where her mother would make ajiaco whenever a sudden sickness plagued her body. Those were the days where Alma would sit beside her and carefully lift the spoon to her mouth, releasing a series of breaths in an attempt to fight off the burning sensation before she fed the contents to her eldest daughter. Her mother must have possessed some form of magic because Julieta could recall always feeling better whenever the bowl had been emptied. Or the days where Pepa had a particularly bad tantrum and needed to be set straight by being placed in the corner. Yes, the middle child would pout and let out a series of frustrated sobs, but when the punishment was done, Alma never failed to caress her hair and offer her second daughter a warm cup of tea in an attempt to remind the child how much she loved her. Or the moments where Bruno had gotten hurt, be it physically or emotionally, and needed to be coddled. Once again, their mother had made herself available to her only son as she took him into her arms and handed him a plate of freshly cooked arepas con queso. Tears would still be running down the boy’s face as he slowly took bites out of the cheesy pieces of goodness, but a hint of a smile could be seen the more he filled his belly.

Alma never needed to say anything during these times for Julieta to understand how much the woman adored them. She always made time for them, she was always by their side, and she was the only parent they had in this world. That was something Julieta just couldn’t disregard and had to appreciate. Even as a child, she was aware of the challenges her mother often faced when it came to raising them. She had heard the story of their birth, an experience that proved to be bittersweet. Three lives had been born while another was taken far too soon. Their father, their mother’s first and only love, someone whom they would never have the pleasure of meeting personally. All they had were stories, things that their mother would share with them whenever she wasn’t plagued by the horrors that occurred that day. If it wasn’t for the portrait that adorned their Casita’s hallway, they wouldn’t even know what he looked like. A man with an appearance most similar to her brother’s, and yet seemed to possess eyes like hers, stared at them every time they made their way through their home. It was an image she often caught her mother gazing upon with tender love and care, along with a hint of sorrow and loss.

During the first years of her life, Julieta would often catch her mother shared such a look while watching them. No doubt the memories of the past flooded her mind every time she stared at the triplets, precious moments that started from their initial meeting to their courtship to their eventual marriage to the birth of their children. And also the horrific events that had plagued what should have been one of the happiness moments of the couple’s lives. Her parents’ home had been destroyed, set ablaze by greedy and wrathful individuals. They had been forced to leave behind many precious mementos and belongings, items that they could never get back. Their friends had been scattered, some managing to find alternative escape routes while the others perished. Everything they had ever worked for was gone within a matter of minutes. Overall, she knew that her mother had been through a lot, she was an individual who had been shaped and defined by unspoken and invisible pain.

Which is why Julieta felt keenly the need to look after their little family, to be the responsible one. To assist her mother in her endeavors, to lessen the pressure she had to face every day as a single mother raising three children and looking after a village of people who had escaped the same turmoil as her. It wasn’t easy caring for three children, each possessing a personality and path that greatly differed from the other. Alma had her hands full with it came to handling Pepa’s little outbursts or Bruno’s constant need to be reassured. That was most likely the reason why Julieta preferred to be on the sides, she didn’t mind not receiving as much attention as the others, for she knew that they needed it more than her. Besides, what kind of an example would she have set if he allowed herself to succumb to naivety and immaturity? She had to lead them, be the one they could look up to in the way she looked up to their mother. Julieta had taken it upon herself to assist the matriarch in her rounds, always following her steps and ensuring that everything and everyone was in order. She would watch as Alma tended to the house, to both its inside and outside structure, always ensuring that not a single speck was out of place. Everything had to be perfect for the sake of their miracle, that’s what she always told them whenever she made her rounds. And it wasn’t just Casita Alma had to cater to either, the community had looked to her for guidance and hope. She had to listen to their concerns and address their worries, to prove how worthy the Madrigal family was to earn their magical candle. 

Each new generation had to keep the miracle burning, it was a legacy that her siblings and her inherited from their selfless father and dedicated mother. They were supposed to strengthen their community, although being children at the time, Julieta had no idea how they were going to accomplish such a task. She didn’t know how she could ever live up to the example her parents had set. But her question would soon be answered on the night of her fifth birthday. Her mother had designed special outfits for the each of them, white apparel accented with gleaming patterns to match that of the candle’s appearance.

Three doors, pulsating with a golden light unlike any other, had been patiently waiting for the day its inhabitants would claim their new spaces. It was no secret whom those individuals were supposed to be, for the engraved doorknobs spoke louder than words, much like her mother. Her mamá had spoken of the doors appearing the moment she first stepped foot into Casita’s confines. One had been created especially for her, with a room that matched the one she had shared with her husband not too long ago. As for the other three doors, one for each child that had been given a promise from their late father. That came in the form of a magical ability that would serve to strengthen their community.

Julieta would never forget the moment her siblings and her made their way to the doors, with their mother eagerly waiting for their destiny to be inscribed in the golden surface. With the touch of the candle, with an oath being made to their family and community, they finally embraced their futures. A teal frame with a gleaming door suddenly burst to life as an image of herself and her name appeared. Surrounding her new portrait was an assortment of herbs, and within the palms of her hands was a mortar and pestle. Her eyes were closed but a smile graced her features, along with a warmth unlike any other. Soon her siblings’ would join her as their doors shifted to match their new owners. A bright yellow frame adorned with her sister’s picture in the middle of a variety of weather patterns was born as a green framed door depicted her brother with open eyes and open palms joined by swirls, sparkles, and hourglasses. The images seemed to be straightforward, but it took some time for anyone to realize what they actually meant.

Pepa had been granted a gift tied to the weather but was bound to her emotions. And Bruno received a gift that could share glimpses of a future belonging to anyone and anything. As for her, she had been given the chance to aid her mother when it came to handling her younger siblings to a different degree compared to before. Through her cooking she could heal just about anything, she could restore what had been broken. That was how she was supposed to strengthen their community because she would soon realize that it wasn’t just her family that was in need of healing and nurturing.

It had been the beginning of a very different chapter, one she wasn’t entirely sure was good or bad. Because things started to change. Suddenly the precious moments she shared with her mother and siblings became a rarity to experience. Because suddenly it wasn’t just her mother that people looked upon with favor, it was her siblings and her too. They had been granted the ability to make everyone’s lives easier through their actions and intentions. Scratched and bruised skin, broken appendages, sore areas, and open orifices needed to be tended to. Everyone flocked to her as early as breakfast and as late as bedtime just so they wouldn’t have spend another moment in pain. She came to learn early on that she always had to be prepared, sometimes she made too little or didn’t work fast enough, much to her mother’s displeasure. She would never forget the day where she had been scolded by her mother that didn’t involve the moments of mischief she allowed herself to get caught up in with her hermanitos. Because during those reprimands, there had always been a hint of amusement and gentleness. At the end of the day Alma had to remember that they were three against one, children against an adult. Proper encouragement of curiosity with a definition of discipline set the foundation for the right type of childrearing.

But this was not one of those times. What shined in Alma’s eyes that day could only be defined as disappointment. She had expected more from her eldest, the one she could always count on when it came to reliability and responsibility. With a gift as valuable and necessary as hers, she couldn’t afford to make such a simple mistake. Doing so would bring doubt into the minds of the people they served, make them question whether or not the Madrigals were truly worthy of their blessings. And it was right there than Julieta realized how her position among her siblings had changed, to a degree at least. Yes she had always been considered a second parent to Pepa and Bruno just so she could ease her mother’s stresses and pressures, especially when she was tending to the Encanto, but this was something entirely new. Suddenly such a position had a name, a label that had been whispered among the crowds, and that was the golden child. The one who could do no wrong and was always welcomed with open arms, she was the star that shined the brightest. People had always compared her to her siblings whenever they were outside of Casita’s halls, but she didn’t realize the extent of such measures until her mother confirmed them. Apparently, the people seemed to be more receptive to her talents and apprehensive of her hermanitos.

Pepa, people felt she needed more practice when it came to channeling her emotions. Before, no one had paid any mind to her emotional outbursts or tantrums, but suddenly such feelings now had weather conditions assigned to them. Lightening, thundering, rains, hurricanes, floods, winds, and snow could bring about a catastrophe unlike any other to their peaceful paradise.

Bruno, needed more discipline when it came to showcasing his visions. Whether it was voluntary or not, he showed people things they didn’t want to see or things that didn’t make them happy. Terrible prophecies weren’t welcomed in a place that was supposed to be free from worry and fear.

As for Julieta, there didn’t seem to be a downside to her gift. At least to the eyes of the Encanto and her mother. Her magical ability proved to be more convenient, even if it had its obvious limits. At first, she had taken great pride in it. She recalled the times where she tested the restrictions of her talents and experimented with its perks. She learned fairly quickly, thanks to the participation of her younger sister and brother, that any food could become capable of healing anyone as long as it had been prepared by her. However, she also learned that no amount of magic could rewrite fate and predetermined congeniality. Her gift could provide comfort to those would were injured and those who suffered from simple and seasonal illnesses. But then there were the people born with certain disorders, they couldn’t be healed altogether, but their symptoms could be eased to a degree. And there was the matter of emotional and physical stress. Her cooking couldn’t restore energy to those who suffered from unhealthy patterns such as exhaustion and mental strain.

And yet despite that, everyone still flocked to her. Everyone expected more from the eldest and favored Madrigal child.

As much as that truth stung, Julieta had no choice but to accept the scolding and understand that she had to do better. It was a side of her mother that she had never seen before. It was something that shook her to her very core and dreaded being on the receiving end again simply because she worshipped the ground the woman walked on. She just couldn’t bear the idea of her hero being cross with her. Which is why she worked twice as hard to ensure that wouldn’t happen again. She had to adjust so many things about herself just so she could please both the village and her matriarch of a parent. She adopted the habits of being an early riser and overachiever. She would wake up before the sun just so she had enough produce to spread along the Encanto. She even started carrying ingredients in her pockets as an emergency backup. She put her heart and soul into her meals, and prayed that the people would appreciate her efforts. She prayed that her mother would still view her as she did before she opened that door.

Julieta never had the courage to admit it aloud, but sometimes it could be overwhelming. As the years went on, everyone started to assume more and more than she had it easy compared to her siblings. She didn’t need to force herself to experience certain emotions just so the world around them would be perfect. She didn’t need to create the right conditions for a pleasant vision to please the masses. However, she just couldn’t find herself agreeing with such a sentiment the more time passed. Something she had expressed interest in as a child suddenly became her whole world, her whole reason for living, her life literally revolved around a kitchen and its assets. She just couldn’t seem to escape it all. It was exhausting. She was exhausted. That was the price of her ability. But she was never strong enough to make such a confession. And so, Julieta played the role of the ever so dutiful daughter, the golden child of her family and the jewel of the village, as she passed along her preparations for the day. The eldest Madrigal triplet found herself in the same position as her mother, keeping down the unspoken and invisible pain. Which would soon extend to both her siblings.

While people had their reservations concerning the younger two of the triplets, people came to rely on them just as much as they relied on Julieta. Perhaps too much. It was obvious that the people couldn’t go a day without needing something from them. Every single one of them served a purpose just like their mother. If anyone got hurt or was sick, they could always come to her. If someone needed specific weather conditions, they could run to Pepa. And if someone need to see how a certain path turned out, they could go to Bruno. It got the point where the eldest triplet started to wonder whether or not people actually tried to better their lives on their own accord. She felt as if the people of the Encanto had become somewhat spoiled over the years. And to make matters even more complicated, her madre seemed to have enabled such a mindset. But no one could ever say that to her… not Pepa, not Bruno… not her. No one could ever go against a woman who had sacrificed so much for the sake of the future. They may have drifted apart with the acquirement of their gifts and positions within the community, but they were joined together in the fear of somehow disappointing the only parent they had left in this world.

And so, Julieta watched as her sister fight against herself on a daily basis as Bruno further isolated himself away from the world. Not a single day went by where she didn’t hate herself for not being strong enough to protect them from the pressures placed upon them. She was the oldest, it was her duty to keep them safe and ensure them that they were loved. Alas, it seemed like she followed her mother’s example far too well as she kept quiet and focused on the continuation of their miracle.

However, as stressful as it may have been at times, she also couldn’t deny that it had led her to an important chapter in her life. With the bad, came the good. It all started the day her mother had officially discussed with the triplets on the day of their passage into young adulthood. Courtship and marriage. Suddenly her siblings and her weren’t children anymore, they were ready to take the next steps of securing their miracle. Alma had expressed her desire for them all to find a suitable partner and continue the legacy of their father’s sacrifice. The matriarch even went as far as to invite potential suitors and suitresses to meet with them. And while Julieta didn’t have any ill will for these possibly matches, she just couldn’t see herself settling down with any of them. Pepa and Bruno seemed to feel the same way, albeit with more mixed results compared to her.

Little did she realize at the time but her soulmate was literally right in front of her. He was an individual who seemed to be the unlikeliest of people to ever catch her attention. Early meetings between the two had started off as nothing more than just Julieta performing her duties. However, as time went on, she quickly saw more and more of him. He was one of the most frequent visitors to her stall, at almost any time of the day. She had watched him grow from an accident prone child to an awkward teenager to an uncoordinated adult. And yet despite those seemingly unattractive qualities, that’s exactly what garnered her attention. Soon, simple encounters had blossomed into something entirely new. During their many conversations, Julieta started to learn more about the man she would one day call her husband.

Agustín Rojas, he was born three years after her to a couple who had just joined her mother’s original village before the darkness came. Unfortunately, his mother had died during childbirth while his father had been left behind to raise him as a single parent. Julieta couldn’t believe that despite all of their obvious differences, there was something they could claim they had in common. Julieta, born as the eldest had to take the place of her father in raising her siblings and looking after her mother, as Agustín worked alongside his father to ensure a stable household that lacked another adult. They both worked differently, and yet shared the same end goal: to restore what had been lost and return to normalcy. But despite that challenge and his apparent lack of grace, Agustín always gave everything his all. He failed time and time again, yet still managed to get back up and face it head on once more. Julieta’s heart fluttered with admiration and adoration as the man shared stories of his childhood and how, looking back on it, she seemed to be an integral part of it.

Agustín said that despite that fact, the two barely knew anything about each other than the obvious. All he knew concerning her was that she was the eldest daughter of three children belonging to the town’s matriarch and had been given the gift of healing through her food. And that she was very popular amongst people, something she couldn’t really deny even if she wanted to. Which is why he awkwardly proposed for further meetings between the two of them that didn’t involve medical treatment, that is if she was alright with it. She absolutely was.

And that’s how Julieta Madrigal became smitten with the sweetest, if not clumsiest, of men.

Through their various interactions, he had charmed her with his humorous personality, his hardworking craft, his musical talents, and his never-ending supportive disposition. Perhaps that’s what drew her the most to the man. All her life, Julieta had been the one to give comfort and attention to others, and now, it had been her turn to receive such affection from another. Make no mistake, she adored and loved her family, but she also desired for something different. She had been so set in her ways since her gift ceremony, that she never dared to drift away from that routine. But Agustín had awoken something new within her, a side she wasn’t sure she had in the first place. And that was the ability to admit that being imperfect wasn’t always a bad thing. Her husband was everything her family wasn’t: he was flawed. However, such a fact didn’t keep him from being all that he could be. Agustín never tried to be something he wasn’t when he was around her, he was just himself. He extended such a courtesy to her as well. Whenever Agustin gazed upon her, he didn’t see her gift or her status as the golden child, rather he saw her for who she was. She could be free from it all.

And that was when she realized that he was the person she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. She could search the entire world for another suitor but none of them would ever be able to match Agustín. Now if only everyone else had been able to see what she did when it came to him.

When Alma had discovered her choice of a suitor, needless to say that it had come as a shock. Even Pepa and Bruno couldn’t help but seem a little confused and wary as well. Agustín Rojas was the last person they thought the eldest would express interest in. He didn’t fit with their perfect and flawless image, but Julieta refused to let go of him. It was the first time she had ever gone against her mother, and not feel guilty about it. When she was a child, before her ceremony, she had always been on the side as Alma had to tend to the little ones. When she reached milestone of her fifth year, she had to focus her efforts onto others. When she became a young adult, she had to think of the family when it came to potential marriage. Everyone had to come before her for whatever reason, because she was the oldest or because she was the reliable one or because she was the healer. But in that moment, she refused to think about anyone else for a change. For once, she thought about what she wanted. And this was something Julieta wanted more than anything in the world. She wouldn’t allow her connection to normalcy to disappear. After all these years of doing what her mother desired, it was time for Julieta to be rewarded for her efforts and actions.

She accepted Agustín’s proposal without a single doubt. With her siblings’ eventual blessings, and with her mother’s obvious hesitant acceptance of their union, they were wed. Needless to say that it had been one of the happiest days of her life. Agustín joined their Casita and soon became revered as a member of the Madrigal family. He had provided for his community in different ways compared to her siblings and her, but there was no denying that he was an important part of the Encanto. After all, he served to add to its future blessings.

A new door had appeared in Casita’s hallways, and that could only mean one thing. It seemed that Julieta had been destined to be the first in everything as she carried the first of a new chapter. The first grandchild who would join their constellation of shining stars. They were destined for the same greatness Alma had claimed her triplets to be. Whatever doubt she may have had towards Agustín seemed to have faded somewhat with the news. And it was soon accented with the arrival of another door. Only this time the pregnancy had belonged to her sister and her new husband, Félix. Julieta couldn’t help but smile as she remembered the fond memories Pepa and her shared together as their bellies grew. The days where they would design outfits for their babies, the moments where they shared name ideas, the times where they discussed their child’s future milestones, and the occasions where they would talk to their growing wombs. Their husbands were just as involved as them, the two men bonded over the news of their future babies. They would coo at their stomachs, gently caress their child’s safe haven, move an ear over the skin just to hear the baby’s heartbeat, and catered to their wives ever so strange cravings. Bruno even joked that Julieta seemed to prefer cooler foods compared to Pepa’s spicy palate, something that certainly matched their personalities and color themes. He seemed to take his duty as a new uncle very seriously as he worked hard to make his sisters lives easier by ensuring their safety. He covered small holes in the foundation, moved furniture aside to make room for their forms, and massaged their aching backs whenever their husbands weren’t around. It was all so wonderful, everything and everyone seemed to be in bliss during that time. Even her mother couldn’t help but share the sentiment.

The woman looked as if she had age a few years backwards as a smile seemed to be permanently planted on her face. She moved with a certain grace as she planted a series of kisses to both of her daughter’s temples and their bellies. And while she still tended to the Encanto’s needs, she was more lenient now that two members of the family were expecting. She only wished for Pepa and her to take it easy for the rest of their pregnancies, the last thing she wanted was for there to be any sort of mishap.  She didn’t let small matters bother her as much anymore either, she just took in all in stride with a new kind of positivity. If Julieta didn’t know any better, she could have sworn that they were living in the past, back when it had just been her siblings and her with their mother. Before she had such high expectations for all of them and when their gifts didn’t define them. This was the woman she had looked up to, the person she had wanted to be when she grew up. After all this time, she had finally returned to them. Julieta couldn’t have been happier.

Their first child and daughter had arrived into the world on August 7^th. It had been such a perfect and beautiful day, Bruno remarked how such an occurrence predicted her child’s status. Such a statement would forever defined the existence of her eldest, she just didn’t realize it at the time. The bliss had blinded her to the possibility that their foundation wasn’t as strong as they believed it to be. For she would never forget the look in her mother’s eyes as she took the newborn child into her arms. And it became obvious that the matriarch had high hopes for the little one, dreams that she had once desired for herself but now wished for her children and grandchildren to have. Alma had wanted to give the whole world to this child.

Their Isabela, their little girl had been promised the world, so it only made sense to give her a name to match such a notion. She was the definition of perfection as she possessed a grace and beauty unlike any other, something she was sure had been passed down from her side of the family. When the time came for her to pick up where her predecessors left off, the door shined with abundance.

Then their second child and daughter, Luisa, had been born on the early morning of November 14^th. Once again, the bliss had been evident as the world continued to gleam with a happiness unlike any other. Right off the bat, Julieta could tell that she inherited much of her father’s devotion. For she was never one to give up so easily when it came to her endeavors. When she followed in the steps of her older sibling, the door was imprinted with strength and persistence.

Overall, Julieta felt as if all was right with the world. She had everything she could ever want. She had a loving husband, two wonderful and ideal daughters, and an everlasting miracle keeping her home safe. Then there was the rest of her family. A mother who had returned to a better version of herself with the birth of her grandchildren, a sister and brother-in-law who added to their foundation of happiness, a niece who always kept everyone on their toes with her ability to hear everything and everyone, and soon a nephew who wouldn’t stop until he made you smile. Not to mention a house that was filled with endless magic and life.

It had been so perfect.

Then on the night of March 6^th, their last child and daughter had entered this world. Their little miracle… their little wonder… their little Mirabel.

Just very thought of her name was enough to snap Julieta out of her frozen stupor. She slowly lifted her hand into view, as she used the other to guard it. She could still feel the sting within her palm. The eldest Madrigal triplet, much like the rest of her family, no longer possessed her gift. But even if she did, she didn’t think she could fix anything or anyone anymore. She most certainly couldn’t fix what she was experiencing at the moment.

After all, what could possibly heal a broken heart? 

So much had gone horribly wrong recently.

But that was when Julieta shook her head as a painful realization dawned on her. No, that hadn’t been entirely true, she knew that now. These cracks, and whatever else that was happening to her family, had to have started long before this moment. There had been signs, maybe not as obvious as they were lately, but nevertheless, they were there. And it make matters even more complicated, it all seemed to relate to her littlest girl. She had somehow been caught in the middle of an unfair situation, events beyond anyone’s control.

She would never forget the day where her hija had been spurned as the door, the object that should have represented all that Mirabel was, just faded away. Her poor daughter, her little wonder, stood there, confused and heartbroken as she searched for answers. But alas, no one could offer any as the whispers of doubt and harsh tension filled the air. Agustín and her had quickly made their way to her side, they offered reassurances and comfort, as they did their best to shield the child from all the stares. And that included the one her mamá was showcasing in that very moment. Never in her life had she seen such a look before from her, and yet it was reminisce of the ones she used to give her siblings and her whenever they didn’t meet her expectations. It was disappointment mixed with fear and uncertainty.

But despite that, ironically, the one who still managed to shine amongst everything and everyone was none other than Mirabel. The child had forced herself to smile as she offered small excuses for the occurrence, clearly trying to maintain the illusion that everything was fine, that she was fine, before she made her exit. The smile on her face never wavered as she did so, what a brave girl she was. Her child was just too good for this world. But not even the strongest of people could keep up such an act, because the moment she stepped foot into what was supposed to be her former room, she let it all out.

Her heart broke for her daughter, a sentiment Agustín had shared as they followed her into the Nursery. The made sure the door closed behind them as they offered their support to their youngest child. Julieta took her into her arms and caressed her hair, trying her best to suppress tears if her own as her husband held them both in a tight embrace. The child’s body convulsed with sobs and hiccups, tears stained her ceremonial outfit and cheeks, as questions escaped her lips.

Did she do something wrong? Was this all her fault? Why didn’t the ceremony work? What was her gift supposed to be? Did this mean she couldn’t be a Madrigal anymore? Was there something wrong with her?

These were things no child should ever have to ask, and it only serve to break the two parents’ even more. They couldn’t explain why this had happened, but they did know one thing. Their precious daughter didn’t deserve any of this. She hadn’t done anything wrong, there was nothing wrong with her. She was perfect just the way she is, and she didn’t need a gift to prove that. Julieta couldn’t imagine her life without Mirabel, she wouldn’t trade her for anything or anyone in the world. In fact, Julieta would gladly sacrifice her gift if it meant Mirabel would stay with her forever. Just like she had done with Agustín, she wouldn’t let go. She refused to lose another member of her family, especially not after her father’s untimely death. And so, Julieta made a promise to her child, that no matter what, she would always love her. There was nothing she could do that would ever change that, Agustin had whole heartedly agreed with that sentiment.

She was only sorry that she hadn’t done more to cement such a fact, or realize that in the end, she would still lose another relative.

Not too long after this event, Bruno had disappeared. And not a single day went by where Julieta didn’t blame herself for that. No matter how old he got, he would always be her baby brother, someone she was supposed to protect. And yet, she had failed… not once, but twice.

For all of the things they did right, everyone was so quick to focus on what they did wrong. Why did the good tend to be forgotten when the bad happened?

Her hija had been right, nothing would ever be good enough for her mamá. No matter how hard any of them tried, it was never enough. Julieta’s work to keep a constant supply of food running wasn’t appreciated, Pepa’s attempts to keep her emotions under control were often overshadowed and ignored, and Bruno’s fight to keep his visions as pleasant as possible became reasons for paranoia and inspired fear. Apparently, none of their efforts to keep this community running were ever enough. And deep down, Julieta knew that’s what drove Bruno away. It’s because people only saw the worst in him, and that included their mother to a degree.

But no one seemed to remember the good Bruno had done during the time he had been here with them. Did Alma recall the times he put on plays just to lift her spirits after a particularly stressful day? Did Pepa forget about the moments he would praise her dancing skills? Did the people take into account how he foretold positive events such as happy marriages, healthy births, passing grades, acquiring new jobs, and receiving presents for whatever reason? Her poor brother, he deserved better.

If the eldest of each generation had been destined to be the golden child, then it seemed as if the youngest of a group was fated to be the outcast. She had learned that by watching how the community interacted and reacted to her brother. The more prophecies he gave, the more people started to place the blame of such events onto him, even though they were done on their own accord. And that was when Julieta realized how the community had come to rely on them in another regard: the scapegoat. If the people couldn’t reap in the benefits of using their gifts, then they could place the fault onto them without having to take any responsibility for their own actions. First her brother, and now her daughter. 

Much like Bruno, people didn’t want to see or remember the good Mirabel had done. Mirabel worked twice as hard as anyone in this family to prove to everyone that she was worthy of the Madrigal name and their miracle. She was a living example of how getting a gift wasn’t necessary to assist others, she was perfectly capable of doing good like the rest of her familia without being defined by a magical ability. She would watch as the youngest Madrigal granddaughter would wake up earlier than anyone else just to make sure they didn’t oversleep and were able to get ready for the day in a timely manner. She watched as Mirabel fixed the holes and tears in people’s outfits while adding new details that were beyond flawless. She bore witness to Mirabel offering her assistance to anyone in the village, no matter what the job was. She would observe Mirabel as she interacted with the town’s children, she never failed to make them smile with her dances, songs and stories. But then anyone else see that? Did anyone else appreciate what Mirabel was capable of rather than what she wasn’t capable of compared to her family? No, all they saw was the giftless Madrigal.

And her mother was the worst example of that sentiment. Julieta shook her head as she recalled the moment that would be forever burned in her memory. It was something she would never forgive herself for. She just stood by while her mother threw such horrible accusations against her child. She didn’t even realize how that’s how Alma truly felt about the youngest Madrigal daughter. She blamed little Mirabel for the cracks, for Bruno leaving, for the proposal dinner going wrong, for Luisa losing her powers, for Isabela seeing a new side of her abilities, and accused her of trying to hurt this family! Not her family, or their family, she referred to them as this family. Her mother didn’t even seem to consider Mirabel as a part of the Madrigal name! It was just as Agustín had mentioned earlier in the day, it was something she didn’t want to believe was true. But that display of raw tension and blame just cemented that idea.

How did she allow this to happen? Her father was gone, taken too soon. Her brother disappeared, he didn’t even say goodbye. And now her daughter had run away, all the while confessing the unspoken and invisible pain she had been keeping in all these years. Why did she allow her mother to have so much control over her even after all this time? She knew that she owed her home and life to the woman, but hadn’t she paid her dues over the years? Hadn’t she done more than enough for her and everyone else? She had managed to go against her when it came to her marriage and yet she couldn’t fight for her own child. Why couldn’t she think for herself? She was just Alma’s daughter anymore, she was a mother now too! She had to do what was best for her children, even if it meant forsaking all that she knew to ensure their safety and happiness.

Mirabel should have come first, not her mamá, not even the Encanto. She should have done more, but she didn’t. If anyone was to blame for the tragedies that had befallen them, it was her. She hadn’t stopped Bruno from leaving, and now she caused Mirabel to run away. Why was she so weak? Why was she so reliant? Why was she so afraid of disappointment?

And that was when a horrific realization hit Julieta, if she wasn’t able to think for herself or do anything on her own, then she was no better than the people who relied on her family’s abilities.

Her tears began to fall, dropping onto the skin of her inflicted appendage as they did so. This hand had been the very same one that had tried to stop her youngest child from leaving. It had been a plea, a silent cry for her to stay, and a promise that they could make this right. How many times was her touch enough for Mirabel to be soothed? How many times did Mirabel fall into her grasp so easily? It had been so simple before, and yet this time it wasn’t.

Mirabel had rejected her. She had slapped her palm away from her person, never showcasing a hint of hesitation as she did so. To say that Julieta had been startled was an understatement, it felt as if Mirabel had just struck her heart rather than her hand. Never in her wildest dreams and imagination did she ever picture her daughter reacting in such a manner. But at the same time, she couldn’t fault Mirabel for lashing out in such a manner. The years of isolation and being treated differently had finally reached a breaking point. The cracks hadn’t been growing on just Casita and their family, they had been spreading across Mirabel too. She had finally reached her breaking point. And Julieta did nothing to stop it, she didn’t blame Mirabel for being so angry and disappointed with all of them. Mirabel deserved better, just like Bruno.

And yet, Julieta couldn’t find herself caring about her pain. Instead, her thoughts wandered to Mirabel. Her child… her baby… Mirabel was gone! She wasn’t here, she wasn’t amongst their family. She had left! She had run away from them! From her!

Immediately, Julieta’s mind became consumed with a variety of horrible outcomes.

“Mirabel,” Julieta whispered.

Her head turned towards the direction Mirabel had to have taken, she had left right out of their door. Her eyes wandered to the crowd that started to gather around their home, but she could find no semblance of her youngest daughter. And it was then that Julieta came to a frightful possibility. What if Mirabel left the Encanto? Julieta began to panic at the very thought of that. Her Mirabel outside the Encanto! No one, not even the elders dared to venture outside of their paradise, who knows what lurked out there? And her Mirabel was vulnerable to the elements! Her maternal instincts went into overdrive as she disregarded the world around her in favor of searching for her lost child.

However, that sudden surge of empowerment could only ease her fears and pain so much. Her bravado didn’t prevent the tears from blinding her sight as she rushed out of the remnants of Casita.

“Where’s Mirabel?” she cried. “Where is she?”

It wasn’t long before she joined by her beloved esposo, Agustín’s expression was filled with horror and sorrow.

“Mi amor, espere por favor!” he gasped.

But she refused to back down, not now, especially when the life of her child was at stake.

“Mirabel!” she argued. “Mirabel is gone!”

That admission only cemented it all, it was every parent’s worst nightmare come to life.

“We need to find her, she could be anywhere!” Julieta yelled, the tear streaming down her face as she did so.

Agustín couldn’t help but share his wife’s sentiment over the matter. Out of the two, Julieta had always been the one to keep things together, and yet here she was, breaking down just like their Casita did. The man couldn’t bear to watch his loved ones suffer… and yet, that seemed to be all that was happening today.

Agustín Madrigal had never been known for being graceful or coordinated. People used to joke that if they looked in a dictionary to search for the word “clumsy,” his picture would be right beside it. And as much as it pained him to admit, he couldn’t deny such a fact. Truthfully, his accident prone nature was something that used to bother him when he was younger. He couldn’t perform daily activities without causing some sort of damage to himself or whatever was around him. His papá used to say that it was nothing more than just a phase, something he would grow out of as he got older. He had hoped that was true, but alas, it never seemed to happen as he encountered more and more injurious occurrences as the years passed him by.

Agustín, you need to be careful.

Those words were the sum of his life, something that seemed to be said at least once a day. Being the only child of a hardworking farmer certainly had its advantages, but it also had its fair share of obstacles as well. He had been raised by a single parent, a man who had lost his wife during their child’s labor. But before she parted from this world, she had uttered her last desire for their son. She claimed that she wished to bestow upon him a name that would bring him great fortune and prosperity. And so, he was given the title of Agustín, it had been defined as great or magnificent. It was something his father just couldn’t argue against, for he wanted nothing but the best for the last gift his beloved had given him. With the passing of a wife and mother, the widower promised that he would raise their child on his own and would love him twice as much to make up for her untimely absence.

From an early age, his father had done his best to instill the importance of hard work and persistence. He claimed that no one could get anywhere in life with just luck, they needed to actually contribute to the cause in order to bear fruit. In this case, it was the care of animals and the tending to the property’s other resources. And when he wasn’t working with his hands, he was training his mind to properly plan and calculate the fruits of their labor and financials. Overall, such an environment offered plenty of chances for growth and discipline, which why Agustín had been put to work the moment he could properly walk and talk. However, his daily chores were always within reason, for his father would never make the boy do anything he wasn’t comfortable doing or something would place him in extreme danger.

But when it became obvious that the child lacked grace and poise, many people questioned his father’s actions. They wondered if it was truly wise to have him engage in such activities, especially considering the possible outcome. Which was more than a fair point seeing as how he had a penchant for blundering. He would trip into an assortment of things, pierce himself with a tool, splatter ink on himself, run into objects, drop the simplest of belongings, and cut the wrong target. But instead of scolding him or punishing him to the highest degree, his papá would just shake his head before gently ruffling his hair, all the while saying those wonderful words.

Agustín, you need to be careful.

According to him, no one learns anything without making a few mistakes, because if they did, then they truly didn’t learn at all. His father was well-known for spreading little seeds like that everywhere he went, and whether or not people chose to listen to them was their choice. But Agustin always took pieces of advice like that to heart, because they motivated him to keep going. If it had been anyone else, they would have been afraid to try new things simply because there was always a possibility it wouldn’t end well. However, if someone allowed themselves to become prisoner to such fears, then they wouldn’t have been able to experience new things. For Agustín, even though he would always end the day covered in splinters and ink marks, he still found joy in chores like woodworking and calculating. He liked to create things from scraps and find the solution to a problem, much to his father’s pride. He loved nothing more than to see the fruits of his child’s labors. The point was, Agustin never would have been able to discover such a talent if he allowed his clumsy nature to consume him.

But another important piece of guidance his father had bestowed upon him was the fact that there was more to life than work. Yes, it was important to accomplish tasks that needed attention, however, it was also vital to set aside time for oneself. His papá claimed that overworking oneself wouldn’t help anyone in the long run. If it was time to chop some wood, but he didn’t get a full night’s rest, then not only was he putting himself at risk but others too. People could get hurt, the wood wouldn’t be chopped properly, and it would have just been a waste of time. Which is why the widow always made time for him and his son to relax and enjoy themselves. For his father, it was enjoying a cup of chocolate santafereño while reading a book. And for Agustín, it was something he appeared to inherit from his late mother, a love of music. Especially piano playing. 

His mother had left behind her old music sheets along with a piano that hadn’t been played since her death. The little notes practically became his friends over the years as he worked hard to master their language and meaning. By the time he reached his adolescence, he had become an expert of the practice. Agustín loved nothing more than to trace his fingers over the ivories, as his father hummed along with the familiar melodies. Even when he hit the wrong note, the man never faulted him nor called it to attention. Rather, he encouraged Agustín to keep going, because little events like that could sometimes create a new ballad.

Overall, life might have presented many challenges and obstacles for the young Agustín, but it also gave him a sense of normalcy too. Everything had been simply for the remaining members of the Rojas family, even with all the whispers and concerns surrounding the only child of the clan. Agustín may have been clumsy, but he certainly was no fool. He knew the opinion the village had of him, especially when compared to someone as responsible as his father. Some of the comments stung, he couldn’t deny that, but it also couldn’t argue against them too. After all, he wasn’t exactly a catch like the other males in the Encanto. He was scrawny, not muscular, awkward, and strange to a degree. Plus, the last thing anyone needed was a spouse who needed the care and attention dedicated to a child. So Agustín never really gave his future too much planning, he was one of those go with the flow kind of people. Something he had learned thanks to his cloddish nature, if you couldn’t change something then you might as well learn how to adapt to it.

But as time passed, Agustín began to notice something else concerning his life. He didn’t have many friends, just people he talked to when it came to business and trade, and the only adult he felt comfortable around was none other than his father. As a result, Agustín’s social circle wasn’t exactly a grand one, but there appeared to be someone else that was just as involved with his life as his parent. Someone he could only describe as an ángel. A caretaker that always seemed to be more amused than annoyed by his questionable acts, just like his father. He had met her at an early age, back when she had been assigned as the Encanto’s healer. As children, it had been easy to only see her as an older sister who had to clean up after her younger brother. He should know, he watched her do it all the time with her real younger siblings. She always took the time to come to his aid and offer whatever assistance she could. She would only smile, pat his head, and warn him to be careful next time before moving onto the next person who needed her. This is something that would become a part of their daily routine.

He never truly realized how important her existence was until they grew up. And he watched her blossom from a mature child to a level headed teenager to a stable and captivating woman. Pretty soon Agustín started to see how his already clumsy personality became even more unpredictable whenever she was around. His heart would dance as he tripped over himself in an attempt to interact with her. His palms would grow sweaty during the moments he gazed upon her radiant form. And his tongue would became twisted and tied when he wanted to speak to her about things. Overall, she made him feel something he had never felt before. And it had only been a matter of time before the object of his affections started to take notice of his frequent visits. She remarked how he acted as if his head was in the clouds or like he had been blinded by bliss.

While she had a point, it wasn’t exactly something he wanted to admit to her right then and there. His mistakes had helped him learn that if he was going to do this, it had to be under the right circumstances. He never felt this way about anyone before, and of course it had to be someone clearly outside his league. He had fallen in love with Julieta Madrigal, the eldest daughter and child of the village’s hero and matriarch, who had been blessed with the ability to heal. The world would never be the same again.

Agustín, you need to be careful. 

That’s how his padre reacted when he discovered his son’s infatuation with the Madrigal golden child. He loved his child dearly, and had borne witness to him getting hurt so many times in the past, but this was something entirely new. Agustín could handle the wounds of the body, but what about the aches of the heart? The Rojas widow was well aware of his son’s reputation in the village, which is why he had done his best to keep him close while encouraging him to be the best version of himself he could be. But even he knew the challenges when it came to interacting with a family as prominent and revered as the Madrigals. He had only interacted with the matriarch a handful of times, but even he knew that she expected nothing but the best for her children. And he doubted his son would have been enough for her daughter, even if he agreed the two would make a good couple. That is if the eldest child accepted and returned his son’s feelings. Which is why he cautioned Agustín, and the while expressing how proud he was that his child could soon experience what he felt when it came to his late love. 

Agustín Rojas had contemplated his father’s words, understanding how well-intended they were, but still managing to send him into a panic. Julieta Madrigal wasn’t like other women in the village, and it wasn’t just because of her healing magic or her status. Rather, it was because even without all of that, she was still something he wasn’t. She was absolutely perfect and flawless in every way. Even when she wasn’t busy healing people, he would observe her as she went about the rest of her day. He saw the way she reacted whenever she cooked ajiaco for herself as a snack, her face lit up like child whenever they received a new toy. Her eyes would close in bliss as her lips moved upward into an adorable smile. It was so endearing, he could only assume that the meal was most likely her favorite food. Or the times he would catch her letting down her bun, the curls and waves poured so seamlessly onto her shoulders and down her back. Dark brown locks that looked as sweet as chocolate and as soft as a caress. Her fingers would run through them as she hummed a small tune to herself, what he wouldn’t give to play the piano to such a melody. And then there was the way she moved with such grace. Every step she took appeared to be choreographed to perfection, she didn’t miss a beat. Such coordination looked as if she was dancing a waltz of sorts every hour of the day. There were even times where he dreamed about joining her as a partner, to take her hand and follow the trail she blazed like the shining star that she was.

There was no way he possessed charming qualities like that, and yet despite all the odds stacked against him, he decided to give this potential relationship a chance. He wanted to know more about the golden Madrigal child despite being in two different worlds. And that was when he learned how special Julieta Madrigal truly was. After so many failed encounters, Agustín finally had the courage to speak from the heart, his words crafted to a tune unlike any other without the aid of music or a song. Needless to say that she had been surprised by his proposition, but he was just as astonished as her when she agreed to it. Apparently, he wasn’t the only one doing some observing during these past years. Julieta had been watching him from the sides too, seeing him at his best and worst, but never seeming to be annoyed by either one of those traits. Rather, she was amused by them, and dare say, wanted to see more of them. In other words, Julieta Madrigal was just as curious about him as he was concerning her. They both wanted to see more from the other, they wanted to know what else was there to the person standing right before them.

And so began a wonderful and beautiful courtship. Surprisingly, the entire community seemed to be opened to their relationship. Which came as a surprise to the clumsy Rojas boy since he was sure he would have been harassed due to Julieta’s popularity amongst the community. It was no secret that she had many suitors to choose from, courtesy of her mother. Sometimes he would watch as the men did their best to tempt her to their side, but for whatever reason, Julieta just never seemed to be interested. That is until he came along. Instead of criticizing Julieta for making a seemingly strange choice, they praised her for finding the right one. And it was then that Agustin realized that the people truly trusted Julieta. To them, if anyone knew best, it was her. As for him, he was congratulated for managing to whew a perfect girl like Julieta off her feet. Many even joked that she would teach him to be more careful.

Which is more than he could say for his future mother-in-law. Alma Madrigal was a woman surrounded by magic and an endless stream of blessings, therefore, if someone wanted to earn her favor, they had to do something as grand as the miracle candle itself. And honestly, Agustín n could more than understand her apprehension towards him. For one, there were better choices. Especially when he took into consideration Alma’s other potential son-in-law, the one who managed to successfully court Pepa during this time period. Félix Castillo possessed a well-known reputation for being the life of the party, much like Julieta, the man was everything that he wasn’t. Plus, he seemed to have a kind of magic Alma was looking for, he was the only individual to ever tame and support the temperamental middle Madrigal triplet. That was the kind of energy Alma was looking to add into her family, not some clumsy loaf who needed more attention than an infant. And two, he didn’t wish to disrespect the matriarch of the Encanto. Even if she was against their courtship, he knew just how important she was and the events that took place for her to receive such a position. For that was one of the reasons Julieta and him bonded so well, they were able to relate to the fact that the both of them grew up without both parents. His mother and her father had been taken from this world far too soon, something they couldn’t exactly talk about aloud due to the fear of reopening old wounds. And three, he wanted this… he wanted to be with Julieta and if it meant dealing with Alma, then he would do it. He would prove to her that he was more than deserving to spend the rest of his life with her.

Through some miracle, and Julieta’s endless persistence, Alma had accepted him enough to where she allowed him to marry her eldest daughter. And things seemed to have changed for the better when they held their wedding ceremony and welcomed their first child not too long after. Julieta, being the early riser that she was, had been the first to make the discovery. He would never forget the look on her face as she shook him from his slumber and made her declaration. Her eyes were wide with anticipation as a joyous smile was painted across her face, she was particular gleaming with a glow unlike any other. That had been more than enough to rid himself of sleep as he quickly joined her in spreading the news to the rest of the Madrigal familia. They hadn’t done a proper examination, but deep down Agustín knew that the sudden appearance of a new door only meant one thing, especially when it had happened so soon after their wedding. Pepa and Félix had yet to consummate their relationship seeing as how their marriage ceremony was still a week away, so they weren’t a choice in the matter.

However, just to be sure, Alma called for an inspection. And within an hour the news had been confirmed, Julieta and Agustín were expecting their first child. He was going to be a father! Needless to say that he spent the rest of the day shouting the joyous news from the rooftops. Julieta simply giggled and indulged him in his comedic antics as he sang and caressed her still small belly. Pepa, Félix, and Bruno had offered their share of praises and wishes to the couple. The community soon gathered around their home and offered their own felicitations, everyone had been pleased with the idea of knowing that there would be another member of the fantastical and magical Madrigal family. However, Agustín would soon realize who seemed to be the most elated of the Madrigals’. It was none other than Alma herself, the matriarch was more than pleased to discover the news. The older woman seemed to be beaming just as much as her eldest daughter was, the smile never left her face as she received best wishes and interacted with her newly pregnant child. It was a state he had never seen her in before, especially when it concerned his relationship with Julieta. At first it had been easy to dismiss such elation as being a first time grandmother, and to a degree that’s what it was. But there was also a hint of something else in between the lines. And he wouldn’t realize what it was until she made that important declaration at one of their scheduled breakfast meetings. After everyone had been seating, she went through the typical notions before finally calling attention to Julieta. As she stood behind her eldest child, she gently place both hands against her shoulders and radiated with a pride unlike any other. It was then that she stated that it was the beginning of a new generation of magical blessings for their family.

He didn’t say anything at the time, for he didn’t want to ruin the joyous occasion, but the declaration had bothered him a little. Alma may have been happy with the fact that she was getting a grandchild, but she seemed thrilled with the idea of another gift being added to their constellation of stars. Truthfully, he didn’t know how to feel about that, especially when he recalled how his own parent wouldn’t be around to witness this new chapter. His papá had passed away not too long before his wedding, something that apparently was attributed to his lineage. His grandfather had passed when his father was still a child, his papá had thought he was safe from repeating such a cycle seeing as how he was able to watch his own child grow up to be an adult. But alas, it seemed to be something that waited until the last very minute to take him away from this world. To ease his sorrows, Julieta claimed that perhaps his papá had held on long enough to make sure that he was happy and safe, which he was. And that was something he thanked his father for every time he visited his grave. He just sorry that the man hadn’t been there to witness his marriage or be able to attend the birth of his first grandchild. However, much like with Pedro Madrigal and his mother, he knew that he would be right beside him when it came to watching over his new family.

He hadn’t been able to talk with his papá about the concept of children as they did marriage, but Agustín could say for certain that the man would have been more than thrilled with the news. Gift or no gift, his father would have loved the child all the same. But Agustín couldn’t say that about Alma. Yes, he was sure that she loved her children, but even then there seemed to be a hierarchy among them. Judging from the stories Julieta would tell him, she would seem to favor one over the other. And to make that concept even more complicated, it didn’t have a precise routine. When they were children, Julieta claimed that Bruno had been the favored child. This was due to the fact that the young man was the only son as well as the youngest of the trio. They may have all been the same age, but Bruno was Alma’s baby. Not a single day went by where she didn’t fawn over the little boy who would one day hold the future in his hands, literally. It was something that even applied to Julieta and Pepa as well, they were just as doting of the boy as their mother was. As the two oldest, they felt a certain need to look after their baby brother and protect him from all the dangers of the world. However, as time passed, and after they acquired their gifts, that favor seemed to shift to Julieta. In the eyes of the Encanto and to their mother, she now possessed an ability was more convenient and useful compared to her siblings, no mention that it didn’t seem to come with strings attached. Pepa needed to be in control of her emotions while Bruno had to constantly keep his focus on the target. Overall, it was easy to understand that point of view, even if it didn’t seem ideal to the other two Madrigal triplets. However, that didn’t seem to matter too since, because once again that favor would alter. And to Pepa this time, something he noticed the day he proposed a courtship to his lovely wife. That newfound approval of the second daughter stemmed from Pepa’s choice of a suitor, Félix. As stated before, Alma wasn’t exactly too thrilled with his relationship with Julieta compared to Pepa’s courtship with Félix. And while he knew that shouldn’t bother him too much seeing as how he still won in the end, it was something that still wasn’t fair in his eyes.

To him, Alma should have been happy with what she had… with what she was given… with no strings attached.

But if he seemed to have something else in common with his wife, it’s that he couldn’t go against her mother. Mostly because she was the matriarch of this village, and the one who had to sacrifice so much in order to obtain the things they had today. And it’s because of this that he would fail to realize right there and then that such a proclamation would set the foundation for the future Madrigals, it would shape the tragedies that would befall them.

Agustín, you need to be careful.

He had tried to do so. He had tried to listen to his father’s voice over the years. But it had been easy to forget his worries as his wife’s womb grew with each passing month. Instead of the foreboding statement consuming his mind, he chose to focus his attention onto his wife and their child. He literally counted the days until the time arrived for him to hold his firstborn baby. He would never forget the parental pride that swelled in his heart, causing tears to stream down his face as he heard the first cries of his newly born daughter. It was truly a miracle.

They had decided to call her Isabela, and she was everything they could ever want and hope for. She was perfect. As soon as he took her into his arms, he never wanted to let her go, not even for a second. He would never forget the feeling of her small hand wrapping around his finger, doing its best to clutch onto it as tightly as it could. He cooed and nuzzled her close to his person, as he carefully rocked her to soothe her wails. He was always considered to be a clumsy person, but in that moment, he had become a new man. He held onto the newborn with a newfound grace and poise, careful to keep her sheltered and yet gentle to ensure she was as relaxed as possible. He wondered if this was some sort of magic at work, to which Julieta replied that it could only be the release of instincts he never knew he had before. Whatever the case might have been, Agustín knew that everything that occurred that day could only be described as a miracle of its own, something outside of the candle’s power. In that moment, he whispered words of encouragement into Isabela’s delicate ears, and he made his vows to her. Such a ritual might have been reserved for a Madrigal child’s gift ceremony, but he saw no reason for him not to do it on his own accord. Besides, his vows didn’t belong to the community, they belonged to his children. He promised that he would always be by her side no matter what, that he would always protect her, and that nothing would ever hurt her as long as he lived. He promised that and so much more. It was such a joyous and grand day, it felt as if the entire world was celebrating alongside them. It was so perfect, especially when his niece, Dolores, had entered the world not too long after. Both girls marked a new beginning for their family branches.

Two years had passed before they welcomed the birth of another child. Their darling Luisa had made her entrance in different fashion compared to her older sister. It was quite a worrisome experience considering it had been earlier than expected. Julieta and him had joked that she was more than eager to meet her new family, so she couldn’t wait for so long. She had been so tiny and frail, and yet seemed determined to beat the odds as she let out a series of empowered cries. However, even with that positive disposition, a lingering tension filled the air the moment they discovered how small and frail she was compared to the two children born before her. Agustín was unsure if she could overcome the obstacles presented. Even Julieta’s healing powers could only do so much, especially when infants couldn’t digest food in the way children and adults could. It had all been up to Luisa, even as a newborn, there had been pressure for her to live. However, it was in that moment that he remember whose daughter she was. She wasn’t just Julieta’s child, she was his as well. And overcoming obstacles was the story of his life, whenever he was knocked down, he would get back up again. With this in mind, he gently took the tiny infant’s hand into his own and whispered words of strength. She had to pull through this because it would only make her stronger in the end, that wasn’t an opinion, it was a fact. She was his daughter, she could overcome anything and anyone. And somehow, through another miracle, Luisa managed to accomplish just that. Agustín had cried again, overjoyed that his little one would continue to stay and thrive in this world. He carefully took her into his arms and placed her against his skin. His warmth was transferred to her as he gently kissed her head. Her ears were positioned directly over his heart, she wiggled against the vibrations at first but slowly eased into it, the beating soothed her as her father repeated his promises yet again. She was perfect, just like her older sister.

Luisa’s birth had presented some trials, but it was something Agustín had become accustomed to at this point. He had lived through all of the disastrous events that occurred during his youth, he had managed to marry the love his life, a prominent member of their community and the daughter of their home’s matriarch. And now, he had managed to watch his young daughter overcome the odds stacked against her. Life was tough, just like his papá had warned him more times than he could count, but he also showed Agustín how those challenges could be very rewarding in the end. It was all finally coming together. Everyone was happy.

But everything would change the moment their last child was born. 

His nephew, Camilo, had been arrived into the world just a few months before her. Once again, his wife and her sister had shared a pregnancy together, just like they did with their firstborns. Only this time would prove to be the last for Julieta and himself. When they had started their courtship, they had discussed the possibility of children. Julieta was a natural caretaker, thanks to her younger siblings. And Agustín had been raised as an only child, which he admitted could get lonely at times. As a result, his wife and him both agreed that when the time came, they would only have three children. Each child would honor the Madrigal triplets and become extensions of what they had represented. The past, the events that started it all. The present, what they had at hand. And the future, what would they would become.

March 6^th marked the day of his last daughter’ birth. Little Mirabel had been welcomed by the Madrigal family with open arms. He would never forget the event. He recalled his in-laws gathering outside the room, eager to hear the news of the new arrival. Then there were his children, they had been the first to meet their newest sibling alongside their parents. Julieta held her tightly as she hummed in happiness and merriment. Isabela and Luisa gathered around their beloved madre and cooed as they stared at the newborn infant. All the while, Agustín stood beside his wife, one of his hands holding onto her shoulder as the other helped cradle the infant. Mirabel Madrigal had been born healthy like her oldest sister Isabela, but still small in size like her older sister Luisa. But despite all that, she was perfect… just like her sisters. And there was one thing about her arrival that varied from his other children. As soon as Mirabel was cleaned up and swaddled tightly, the other Madrigal members took turns meeting her. Soon the whole room was crowded as everyone smiled, cried, crooned, and introduced themselves to the youngest child of their family. Best wishes and praises where offered to her as no one hesitated to take her into their arms and shower her with affection. While everyone had done so in the past with his previous children, this time seemed to be more special considering that she would be the last child born to Julieta and him. Even as a newborn she had been capable of possessing a magic unlike other, the event that took after place after she was returned to Julieta’s embrace, would cement that sentiment. It could only be described as another miracle because no other child had done it immediately after they were born. Mirabel had smiled, and a laugh unlike any other soon followed.

A series of gasped escaped the lips of the onlookers, including Julieta and himself. They just couldn’t believe it. That event presented a glimpse of what and who their daughter would become. Once again, he repeated the process of taking her into her arms and whispering his promises to her. He had adored the new baby, just like how he adored his two eldest children. They were all little miracles, gifts born out of love, and perfect in every single way.

But as much as Agustín loved his daughters, he would soon realize that he had failed each and every one of them. Especially Mirabel. He had forgotten the warning his padre had given him all those years ago.

Agustín, you need to be careful.

He thought he had been doing better compared to before, he thought he finally figured out all the obstacles and could work around them. But that hadn’t been the case at all. For every step forward, he took several steps backward. If he had been truly careful, he wouldn’t be in this situation in the first place. He wouldn’t have lost so much within the span of the day. The foundation he had worked so hard to add onto hadn’t been enough, and everything had come crashing down as a result of it. And suddenly, he recalled his younger days, where people claimed that he had been so incompetent and unworthy. Back when everyone had warned him he had to be more aware and cautious, not just for himself but for the people around him as well. When he courted and married Julieta, he had promised to better himself for her, even if she claimed to love him for who he was rather than what he tried to be. He had done everything in his power to ensure that she wouldn’t regret her decision to become his wife. And thankfully, that didn’t seem to be an issue. Not a single day went by where she didn’t remind him of her never-ending love for him. She never viewed him as a burden, rather she saw him as her perfect soulmate. Someone she wanted to spend the rest of her life with.

When he officially joined the Madrigal family, he swore to bring honor to their legacy. Despite some people’s reservations concerning his status, no one could argue that he didn’t performed dutifully to their cause. He had used the skills he acquired from the years of working alongside his late father to help strengthen their community. And despite the amount of injuries he obtained during these times, he never failed to accomplish the tasks that were assigned to him. Looking back on it now, perhaps he tried a little hard, especially when Félix had been a close and easy example to follow. There were times where he caught himself mimicking the movements of the elder son-in-law, with some mixed results. But nevertheless, his intentions had been noble and pure, even Alma couldn’t seem to deny that after some time.

And when he became a parent to three beautiful children, he made sure to devote every single aspect of his life to them. He vowed to be careful for them, so that they could grow up with a reliable and stable father. But at the same time, he always encourage them to be the best versions of themselves. He had tried to repeat his father’s actions when it came to raising his own daughters, with some being more receptive compared to others. They needed a positive role model, someone they could look up to and depend on whenever they needed him.

However, the recent series of events have now lead him to believe that he went wrong somewhere. Because he never felt more like a failure than he did in this moment. It seems that even after all this time, he never learned how to be careful. He should’ve known better, because maybe things would have turned out differently. All this time, he thought he was doing the best he could for the family, but perhaps his actions were only adding to the damage that had been building up all these years. Agustín had yet another confession to make, one that didn’t involve matrimonial bliss. The tension had been arising long before Mirabel’s birth and her failed gift ceremony. When he married into the Madrigal familia, he had been one of the few to bear witness to their hidden sides. He realized just how vulnerable they truly were, how hard they worked to ensure that no one was none the wiser to such a fact. He saw more of the strings that came attached to such magical blessings.

He recalled those days where Julieta would just lie in bed, exhausted from a productive day’s work. She didn’t even attempt to remove her apron or let down her hair. However, despite that obvious fatigue, she would get reassure him that everything was fine and that she could get back to work within the next few minutes. At least, that’s what she always claimed. And yet, in spite of her consolations and never ending smiles, Agustín didn’t feel comfortable with his wife pushing herself to such limits. After all, nothing could compensate for actual rest and relaxation and attempting to do wouldn’t benefit anyone in the long run. That’s what his father had taught him at least.

And then there were his in-laws. Pepa didn’t exactly have a proper outlet to channel her emotions, even after marriage, she still proved to be a force to be reckoned with. He saw just how debilitating such a gift could be. Much like her older sister, she had been denied the chance to just let it all go. She just couldn’t get a moment’s peace. She had to keep it all together, all for the sake of stability. While he could understand how dangerous her reactions could be, he still couldn’t deny how unhealthy it was to just keep it all in. And it didn’t exactly help how she was typically on the receiving end of Alma’s scolding because of this. Having Alma as a mother-in-law was stressful enough, he could only imagine how different it was to have her for a mother.

As for Bruno, well, it was obvious where his insecurities and paranoia originated. Having the ability to see into the future did sound like a useful ability at first, but it wasn’t without its shortcomings. Even without the use of his gift, the youngest Madrigal triplet had a mind consumed with very possible path one could take. It wasn’t uncommon to see the man stuck in state of isolation, where he would fret over potential outcomes and would contemplate his next move, afraid of what action could lead to good or bad. Agustín had to admit that Bruno was capable of seeing more than just the bad stuff, he had his fair share of foretelling positive events. But unfortunately, those good moments tended to be overshadowed by the bad ones. And yet, he had to wonder, did the bad things happen because Bruno somehow willed it, or was it because the community hadn’t taken precautions to prevent such events from unfolding?

The father of three’s eyes widen with such a realization. The people of the Encanto hadn’t learned… they hadn’t been careful… just like him. He hadn’t learned anything from watching the original Madrigal siblings, he should have known what kind of fate awaited their children through previous observations of them.

Julieta couldn’t catch a moment’s rest, always taking care of others before herself. Pepa had to constantly be on guard and keep her emotions at bay to the best of her ability. And Bruno had developed an unhealthy mindset where he couldn’t operate without overanalyzing the action and the future it held. 

And then there were his hijas and sobrinos. There weren’t too many conversations concerning the disadvantages of their gifts, but Agustín had borne witness to their faults just like he had before. Isabela always had to keep up the image of perfection. Dolores was constantly overloaded with information. Luisa would overwork herself to the point where she paid no mind to her own needs. Camilo didn’t feel like anyone wanted him just for him but as someone else. And Antonio… well it was a little early to discover what his potential drawback was, but he couldn’t help but wonder if the child felt more pressure concerning his gift ceremony compared to the others. After all, his was the first, and most likely, the last of his generation to perform the magical ritual after Mirabel’s failed one.

He had seen all the signs, but he never acted on them. He never spoke out of place, in fear of proving everyone’s original reservations about him, especially Alma’s. Also, perhaps deep inside him, he felt the only way to earn the world’s approval was to act the way they saw fit. He had to become like the rest of the Madrigal bloodline, he had to submit to the magic and never forget his place in the family. And that fact extended to his loved ones as well. If he accepted their positions, then everything would be in order. The magic would remain strong and the miracle would keep burning. But now, Agustín could say that by following such a rule, he had failed everyone. Especially his youngest child, his Mirabel. He hadn’t been careful with her, he now realized that he had only added her insecurities. He was no better than the rest of them. For he had unintentionally pushed her to the side time and time again, in favor of keeping the status quo and thinking he was ensuring her protection by doing so. But much like what had happened between Alma and Bruno, such actions only added to her isolation, to the point where she questioned her role and purpose in their family. He should have worded his encouragements more cautiously, he should have taken his time with her, and remind her of how special she ways in other ways. He should have reassured her that no matter who she was, that he would always love her. Gift or not gift, she was truly special, and she shined just like the rest.

Agustín, you need to be careful.

He hadn’t been careful, he betrayed his father’s legacy and went against his teachings. He had broken his promises to his youngest daughter and didn’t protect her like a father should have. Why hadn’t he tried harder to keep the vision from being revealed? Why didn’t he try to stop Dolores from acting on her gossiping instincts? Why hadn’t he prevented his in-laws from sharing that secret? Why hadn’t he comforted all of his daughters after the failed proposal dinner? Why didn’t he put up more of a fight when Alma scolded the family after the event? Why did he just stand to the side and allow Alma to throw such horrible and hurtful accusations against his daughter? Why hadn’t be done more for her?

His poor child, he could only imagine how she must have felt during that heated confrontation. She must have been so scared of her grandmother, so helpless against her words, and so wounded by what she was hearing. No doubt Mirabel must have thought that Alma’s allegations were what they all believed, and that’s why no one was trying to helping her. Agustín heart ached over the thought of his little girl thinking that her family hated her for all these years, when in reality, they loved her more than anything in the world. But such a fact only led him to remember how much he had failed to showcase that endless love and devotion to Mirabel.

He had failed, now she was gone. And he would never forgive himself for the role he played in her departure. He could only hope that when they found his youngest daughter, that she would listen to his pleas for second chance to be a good father to her. This time, he promised to do better for her, and not for anyone else. From now on, his children came first, and he didn’t care what people had to say about the matter or him. And that included his mother-in-law. No longer would he allow her to run his family’s lives.

He did his best to keep his tears from falling, but it proved to be futile as they streamed down his face. However, he knew that he couldn’t dwell on his hurt, especially when he knew someone else was hurting more at the moment. He held onto his wife tightly as he confessed his intentions to her. He hadn’t stopped her because he failed to realize the severity of the situation. Rather, he didn’t wish for her to venture into the outside world alone. No one had ever done so before… but apparently he could his daughter had been brave enough to do so… all so she could get away from them. From him.

“Mi vida, I’m not letting you go alone!” he exclaimed. “We’re going to find our daughter and bring her home… together!”

This seemed to ease Julieta’s nerves as her expression softened and became filled with hope, this is what she needed to hear. It’s what he needed to believe. And so, the couple made a silent promise to one another that they would find their beloved child, return to where she belonged, and do whatever it took to make up for their mistakes concerning her.

Julieta promised that she would be the caretaker once again, only this time, she would do better. She would no longer pay any attention to what others wanted her to do, rather, she would focus on what she wanted to do.

Agustín promised that he would be careful, not for himself, but for Mirabel. He would take her feelings into account, he would listen to whatever she had to say on the matter and wouldn’t judge her at all. He would find a way to show her how special she truly is.

However, their thoughts were interrupted by two familiar voices.

“Wait!”

They turned to look at the source of the call. It was none other than their eldest daughter: Isabela. And standing beside her, with a hand draped on her shoulder was their second eldest: Luisa. Both of the young women looked like they had been crying themselves, but their eyes shined with a newfound determination that they had never seen before.

“We’re coming too.”

Their family had been united for once in a very long time... and it was all because of Mirabel. Their little girl had been blessed with a gift, one they didn’t realize she had until now.

“Mirabel!”

She carefully trudged through the rough vegetation, not caring whether or not the ends of her dress became tattered or dirty at this point. She paid no mind to the small tears that started to form as parts of the fabric got stuck on the surrounding environment. And she ignored the way her hair became frayed and disheveled with each passing branch. Being perfect or trying to match the image of flawlessness was the least of her worries right now. Not when she had more important matters to attend to, like finding her youngest sister. Isabela huffed as she made sure she gained her footing with each step. Even though she was desperate, she knew that she couldn’t afford to get hurt now. Mostly because getting injured wouldn’t help their cause, it would only serve to take the attention away from it. And was the main mistake that had led to this series of unfortunate events.

“Mirabel!” she called again.

Joining her side was none other than her other younger sister, someone she knew she could trust when it came to insecurity and doubt. Which is why she had been more than happy to know that she would be paired off with her versus anyone else. She loved her family, but they didn’t know or truly understand the sides she had been forced to keep hidden for the greater good. In fact, that honor could ever belong to one person, and she was the individual they were currently trying to locate at the moment.

“Mirabel!” Luisa yelled. “Where are you sis!”

The two sisters carefully made their way through the surrounding forest of their home. This was their first time traveling so far away from the Encanto. Not even Luisa, the ever so dutiful child and busiest of them all, had never needed to do so. All of her chores took place inside of the community, not the outside of it. And so, it was understandable that they were having some difficulty with their venture. She wondered whether or not her other relatives were experiencing the same kind of trouble. There was no beating around the bush when it came to the fact that all of them were basically helpless without their powers. How ironic it was that abilities that were intended to help others, couldn’t help the one person they wanted to save the most. Her mamá couldn’t heal whatever injuries they acquired from their journey, her other hermana couldn’t get rid of the obstacles in their path, her tía couldn’t keep the weather stable enough to ensure proper navigation, her prima couldn’t hear for any signs of the lost Madrigal, her primo couldn’t shift into individuals to make the task easier to accomplish, and her youngest primo couldn’t enlist the help of his animal friends to assist with the search. And then there was her.

Isabela Madrigal, a person who had always been admired for her perfection, renowned for her beauty, envied for her status as a golden child and grandchild, and beloved by all, was now a shell of her former shape. Or rather someone who everyone thought she was. Everyone wanted to believe that her life had always been a dream since the moment she opened her eyes. And to a degree it was, at first. When she was a child, the first thing she remembered was how everyone seemed to gaze at her with eyes full of anticipation. Not a single day went by where someone didn’t her of her supposed purpose in life, everyone couldn’t wait to see what she would bring to the Madrigal name. She was the first of a new chapter. Her late abuelo had been the roots, her abuela formed the trunk, as her madre and tíos became the branches. As for her generation, they were the branches that stemmed from the original branches, a continuation of where the miracle had begun. Which is where she stood, just want kind of leaves would spring forth from her foundation?

Turns out, it was quite literally leaves… and other forms of plant life. She would never forget the day where she finally took her place amongst the rest of the Madrigal family. How the crowd and her relatives waited with baited breath as she slowly took those steps towards the blank, golden door that held her destiny. It was a process that had been repeated thrice before, but this time the attention would be solely focused on her. Seemed to be befitting when you take into consideration her status within the family, and her future. She recalled how her grandmother had gazed upon her with eyes filled with adoration and pride as she took the candle into her hands and made her vows to the world. Then it was time for the magic to take hold of her as she placed a hand onto that doorknob etched with her beginning initial.

Within second the door had spoken as her image was lined within its surface along with her name and gift. Chlorokinesis, the ability to control and manipulate plant life. This was how she was supposed to strengthen their community, she would be the flower that would accent the perfection her home was known for. Such a duty seemed to be the opportunity of a lifetime, a task that anyone would want to be bestowed upon them. It had been so easy to be blinded by the bliss that came with such a status, but as the years passed, it slowly became more obvious the price that came with it. Especially after that day.

Isabela’s thoughts were interrupted when she realized a root threatened to trip her. Thankfully, she was able to avoid it, but then another worry plagued her mind. Mirabel wasn’t exactly known for being careful at times, something she inherited from their father, although her actions stemmed from being reckless and rash rather than just being naturally clumsy. And unlike the man, she did possess some agility as she was able to navigate through the Encanto and Casita with relative ease, something even Isabela had to give her credit for. Not a day went by without Mirabel showcasing how energetic and lively she was as she skipped across the rooftops, jumped over fences, ducked away from people and their belongings, and danced throughout the town and their house. All the while a bright and captivating smile adorned her face as a contagious laugh escaped her lips and a glow unlike any other beamed from her person. That was the kind of person Mirabel was, someone she could never be.

But that was back at home, this was outside of it. Mirabel was outside of her element, how could she possibly cross this territory without some struggle? She could get hurt or worse! And it was then that Isabela couldn’t help but let out a cruel chuckle, one that was mixed with bitter irony. She knew she had no right to worry about Mirabel, not after all she had done to her throughout the years. This whole time she prayed that her relatives had better luck than they were having, because she certainly wouldn’t blame Mirabel if she chose not to answer their calls. Specifically hers. Even if they had managed to come to an understanding just a while ago, it still didn’t erase the past. If anything, it only added to the hurt because she hadn’t exactly been the greatest of sisters for, well, years now. It was something she had known for a quite a while, but it had taken this recent series of events to finally open her eyes to the truth of it all. The real, imperfect truth, and that was the fact that they were broken. All of them.

The cracks that had overtaken their home hadn’t formed overnight, no one had to tell her that. She just knew, because she was sure that had been forming on the Madrigals before they ever reached Casita’s foundation. How did she know? Because she had noticed them, felt them even. And one thing was for certain, it had all started on that day. The moment where everything and everyone had changed, including herself.

Isabela’s gift ceremony had set the bar for the rest of her generation. Whatever gifts may follow after hers had to live up the same expectations. Which she always found to be ironic to a degree. Don’t get her wrong, she was well aware of the perks that came with manipulating plants. Such as having an endless stream of flowers flowing from her hair and trailing behind her person, being able to decorate both the outside of her door and special occasions, growing radiant bouquets for shops and businesses, and returning life to plants that been neglected or damaged. But when the rest of the grandchildren followed her example, she was able to see the differences between their capabilities and hers. Her prima, Dolores, had acquired the gift of enhanced hearing and bettered the line of communication between her household and the community. Her sister, Luisa, was able to lift large and heavy objects and possessed increased durability compared to the strongest of people. And finally, there was her primo, Camilo, someone who was literally able to change all that he was within the span of seconds. When you compared her gift to all of theirs, it didn’t seem to be as useful. While this was something she knew her family, especially her grandmother, would deny, she just knew her ability wasn’t enough. And this wasn’t taking her mother and tíos gifts into consideration: the ability to heal, control the weather, and see into the future.

Overall, her gift may have had its beauties but it wasn’t very practical compared to the others. At least in her opinion, especially when she had been limited by what she could do. Her abuela had claimed that her flowers had been more than enough, so that’s what she had to work with despite seeing hints of another side. Every now and again a plant capable of growing something other than blossoms and petals appeared, much to Alma’s disapproval. She claimed that the Encanto had more than enough resources thanks to Pepa’s interference, besides the magic surrounding its borders always ensured that nourishment would be provided to the people. What their home needed where accents, an emphasis on its flawlessness. And that’s where she came in, after all who better to represent their perfect home than the perfect golden child and grandchild. She would be the main example of how they were supposed to strengthen their community.

And so she kept playing that role, for the good of the family and the Encanto. Even if it meant never knowing the other side of her abilities, even if it meant forsaking someone she could have been, even if it meant sacrificing other things in the process. Such as the relationship she had with her family, especially Mirabel. Even after all that had happened, she was ashamed to admit that a small part of her instinctively blamed Mirabel for all the tragedies they had just experienced. Not only that, but that same small piece wanted to be annoyed that she decided to run away and that all of the focus was on her rather than the loss of their home and its magic. She shook her head, tears welling up in her eyes at the very thought of that. She bite her lip for good measure and clutched her other hand tightly, her nails digging into the skin of her palm as she did so. They were attempts to keep the horrendous notions that bay.

She couldn’t believe it! She just couldn’t believe herself, even after all that had happened between Mirabel and her, she still found a reason to blame her. Hadn’t she been through enough! Hadn’t her sister been accused and blamed for too many things already! So why was she so desperate to place all the fault on her when she knew it wasn’t true! Mirabel wasn’t responsible for anything that went wrong in their family. If anyone was to blame then… then… then…

At that thought, she stopped dead in her tracks. Her whole body started to shake as she gazed upon the remnants of the dye on her dress. They were reminders of the special moment she had shared with Mirabel. What had started out as another heated confrontation between the eldest and youngest sister, had slowly blossomed into something unexpected… something new. For once in a very long time, she didn’t gaze upon her sister with annoyance or confusion. Instead, it had been replaced by a different feeling, one she hadn’t felt since they were children. Love, trust, honesty, and freedom… that’s what she felt in that moment when she decided to let it all go. When she finally gave into the side that been in hiding for so long, when she embraced all that she wanted to be rather than what she had to be. And she owed it all to Mirabel. Which only made what happened after that event all the more heart aching. 

I hate all of you!

She could imagine what Mirabel must have been going through in that moment for her to make that declaration. Did she always have that side to her? In all her years of cohabiting with her family, she had never seen Mirabel in such a state before. Compared to the rest of the Madrigal members, she had always been the happy-go-lucky one, someone who didn’t seem capable of breaking down or hate. Or perhaps, much like her, it had been a side she worked hard to keep hidden, especially after that day?

Whenever a new baby was born into their family, there had always been a grand celebration to follow. Being the eldest, she bore witness to most of them, and she swore it was the happiest time of everyone’s lives, both inside and outside the Madrigal clan. For some, they were simply pleased with the idea of there being a new life joining the household. For others, they were thrilled with the fact that a new gift would soon be bestowed upon the world. And for the rest, it was a mixture of both. Sometimes Isabela wasn’t sure what category she fell in, because on one hand, she was elated with the news that a new member of their family would soon be born, but on the other hand, she got caught up with wondering what kind of blessing awaited them.

She remembered the days her little sisters had arrived into this world. She had only been two when she met Luisa for the first time. She would never forget how small and fragile she was. Tan skin mixed with hazel eyes and brown curly hair captivated her. Then she was given the chance to hold her, her padres had carefully placed the newborn into her arms, all the while guarding the two of them. Isabela’s eyes widened with curiosity as she watched the little one grabbed ahold of her fingers, clearly doing her best to show off her strength even at an early age. In response, Isabela mimicked her relatives’ reactions to a new baby by placing several small pecks to her head and face. Her familia simply cooed over how precious the moment was, clearly pleased with Isabela’s reception to her newborn sibling. When she had first discovered she was going to be a big sister, she didn’t truly understand what that meant until her mother took her into her arms and spoke sincere words concerning the topic. She explained how older siblings had to be the responsible ones, they had a duty to tend to the younger ones and ensure their safety and happiness. They had to take care of them, love them and show them support no matter what. Only a select few ever had that honor and she was going to be one of them. Isabela still didn’t quite understand what that meant, until she held Luisa for the first time. In that moment, she realized how much she loved this new little life and how she didn’t want anything or anyone to hurt them. She promised Luisa that she would be the best big sister ever.

Then when she was nearly six years old, and Luisa was approaching the age of four, their youngest sister had been born. When they had been finally allowed to meet her, the first thing the two girls did was sit on opposite sides of the newborn. Each of them gazed into her sweet brown eyes as they took hold of each of her hands. Their fingers danced along the small appendages before they placed loving kisses onto them. Once again her mother’s words made sense to Isabela. For there was no greater love she possessed than the one she had for her siblings. And this time Luisa had been added into the mix, for Julieta had given her the same talk when her pregnancy had been discovered. The two sisters had been united in their promise to protect their littlest sibling, they had to make sure that she was happy and loved. In the beginning it had been easy to remember such a promise.

Until that day.

When the time came for Luisa to perform her gift ceremony, Isabela went all out when it came to decorations and planning. She wanted to make sure her sister’s moment wasn’t ruined, everything had to be perfect according to her grandmother. It was a sentiment that she shared whole-heartedly as she created flower curtains, garnished the hallways and front with an assortment of blossoms, and entertained the guests with her perennial dances. Then their grandmother confirmed that it was time for the magic to begin. Luisa, adorned in her white and gold ceremonial outfit, took the stage as she made her way to her new room and gift. Within minutes, her fate was printed on the door. Luisa had become the strength of their community, quite literally, and she would soon experience that the moment she embraced her with all her might. Thankfully, nothing had been broken, and Isabela honestly didn’t mind. She was just happy that Luisa was happy.

Then it was Mirabel’s turn. And as stated before, that’s when everything and everyone had changed.

She could never forget how excited her youngest sister was that day. She had difficulty sleeping the night before because of how eager she was to see what her gift would be. She wondered what awaited her on the other side of that magic door. She was practically bouncing all throughout Casita, something Luisa and her couldn’t help but partake in. Luisa lifted her two sisters into the air while Isabela let them hang along the vines. Mirabel’s ceremony would be the last from their family branch. Her parents had made them aware of how special Mirabel’s birth was, for she would be the last child born to them. Therefore, they had to make sure that Mirabel’s day was absolutely perfect, something Abuela Alma had agreed with. And so, Luisa and her did everything they could to make the ceremony memorable for everyone. Isabela repeated her previous actions concerning Luisa’s ceremony, while Luisa catered to the people and perform tricks for the children.

Finally, it was time. It was time to see how Mirabel would help strengthen their community.

Everyone watched with baited breath as Mirabel walked down the aisle, her small hands holding onto one another as her eyes wandered from side to side. A nervous look adorned her face, with was only natural seeing as how she was merely a child being observed by the whole town and her family. However, that anxiety filled expression slowly transformed into excitement and pride with each step she took. Finally, she reached their abuela and she placed her hands against the candle’s surface, making her vows as she did so. All the while their parents stood at the side, eagerly waiting for their daughter to finish the ritual. However, what stood out to Isabela in that moment was the look on Alma’s face. The years may have added to Alma’s appearance, but she always looked so youthful whenever these days happened. Her eyes were narrowed with pure adoration, love, and gratification, and a smile filled with grace and merriment adorned her face as she held that candle out for the next generation. It was a look people had seen only a handful of times, but it was always seen during special occasions such as this.

If anyone managed to be on the receiving end of such a look, they should consider themselves to the luckiest person in the world. When Abuela Alma reserved such an expression for you, a wave of warmth sweeps over you like a blanket. It feels like all is right with the world and that you’ve accomplished something. It’s why Isabela always worked hard to live up to her expectations. She wanted nothing more than to make her family proud. She knew that Luisa and Mirabel wanted that more than anything in this world, it’s something all Madrigals strived to achieve. Which is why they had to go through the gift ceremony, it wasn’t just for their sake, but for their family’s honor and legacy. They had to prove that they were worthy of their miracle and its blessings.

So imagine Isabela’s horror as she watched her beloved sister’s door slowly fade into nothingness. She would never forget the fear she felt in that moment, as well as the sorrow. The doors were supposed to be representations of their destinies, reminders of how they would serve to strengthen this community. But no one had ever heard of a door disappearing. Why did this happen? What did this mean for their Encanto? For their family? For Mirabel?

Suddenly, the crowd was engulfed in a ripple of confusion and uncertainty. Whispers spread amongst the people as her family worked to make sense of it all. However, once again, what captured Isabela’s attention was none other than the look on Alma’s face. The previous expression had quickly faded just like the door, and was now replaced with horror and doubt. And to make matters even worse, Isabela noticed how the candle had flicked for a second. It was something Alma appeared to notice as well as her gaze shifted downward towards it before turning her attention back to Mirabel. And that’s when Isabela’s eyes wandered to her little sister. The girl looked just as lost as everyone else, but most importantly, she looked desperate for answers. Answers that no one could give because they weren’t sure what this event meant either.

Looking back on it now, perhaps this had been the event to mark the cracks that had started appear on their family. Love didn’t seem to be unconditional anymore as tension consumed their once lively home.

Within a matter of minutes Mirabel made her exit as their padres followed her into the Nursery, all the while her tíos, primos, hermana, and herself escorted the people away from their home. Alma seemed to have disappeared without a trace, for no one noticed her departure from the scene. But everyone could guess where she was, it didn’t take a genius to figure out that she was most likely in the confines of her room. No doubt trying to figure out what went wrong to garner such an outcome. Hadn’t their family always performed dutifully and perfectly? Hadn’t they always tended to the people before themselves? Hadn’t they brought honor to their miracle? 

Apparently not, at least that’s what Isabela thought. And she knew for a fact that her grandmother would be thinking the same thing. After all, many people had said that out of all the children and grandchildren, she was the one who took after Alma the most. Many had remarked how similar they looked, especially as she grew older and her physical features became more accented. In fact, there had been whispers among the elder community, ones that involved her grandmother’s past. It was a topic Alma didn’t like to discuss too much considering all that had happened before she acquired their miracle, so the Madrigals had no choice but to rely on the ones who were there during those days. She had heard how her grandmother once had an apprenticeship with the local florist. Apparently she had a love for plant life, specifically flowers, in her younger years. Which looking back on it now, explained a lot of the actions she did concerning Isabela.

When she first acquired her gift, the first Alma did was teach her the language of the blossoms. Cattleya trianae was associated with fertility and virility, as well as a representation of their country because of the yellow, blue, and red color of its lip. Then there were jacarandas, typically connected to rebirth and the magic of the spring time, as well as the virtue of wisdom. The Colombian rose, their meanings changed depending on the color. Red conveyed love and passion, yellow was an expression of joy and friendship, pink was linked to the feeling of happiness as white corresponded with innocence and purity. Overall, there was so much she had to learn concerning her magical ability, something her abuela encouraged as she gifted Isabela a handful of books about plant life. And during this time she always wondered why her grandmother put such an emphasis on flowers compared to the other forms of vegetation she seemed to be capable of growing. It wasn’t until she heard that gossip, with the help of Dolores at times, did she receive an answer. And truthfully, she didn’t know how to feel about that. On one hand, it was nice to bond with her grandmother over her gift, but on the other hand, it felt as if she wasn’t seen as her own person, just an extension of someone else.

However, the resemblance didn’t stop there, they tended to have a similar thinking process as well. Whenever Alma needed to have something done, Isabela usually accomplished it before anything had to be said. And if Alma issued a declaration, Isabela was usually the first to agree and go along with it. Sometimes Isabela caught herself saying something her grandmother would have stated, much to the matriarch’s sheer delight and pride. As stated before, whenever Alma gave you that look, it felt as if you were on top of the world. Most of the time such an expression was directed at her for a variety of reasons, but every now and again it had been given to other members of her family.

Mamá, whenever she cooked Alma one of her favorite dishes. Tía Pepa, for managing to keep clear skies overhead. Tío Bruno, if he showed a pleasant vision. Papá, whenever he managed to secure supplies for the rest of the town. Tío Félix, every time he wished her a good day. Dolores, when she delivered important messages to the matriarch and their family. Luisa, every time she managed to complete the scheduled heavy lifting for the day. And Camilo, for simply being the first grandson and managing get a chuckle out of her every once and a while.

As for Mirabel, well, that was now a very complicated story. Because Isabela could recall the early years of the child’s life, before that day. Abuela Alma had absolutely adored the little one, she almost held the same position as her. For she could do no wrong in the eyes of the matriarch or the rest of their familia. Isabela supposed that it had something to do with the fact that Mirabel was the youngest at the time, as well as the last child born to Alma’s eldest. But Isabela knew there were other reasons for Mirabel’s popularity, for one thing, she was adorable and endearing. Even at a young age she seemed to possess a charm unlike any other. She would dance, sing, and tell stories of a magical world similar to their own, where people with special abilities would help others and a special candle would keep the world safe. She gave Camilo a run for his money when it came to entertainment, he might have been able to make people smile and laugh, but Mirabel reminded them of how they were surrounded by miracles and magic even without the candle. Not to mention the child proved to be quite the little artist, every time there was a special occasion, the chiquita would gift the individual one of her pieces. Whenever someone received such a present, their hearts couldn’t help but flutter as a warm blanket engulfed their bodies, Isabela could only compare it to the moment a Madrigal acquired their gift. Despite how strained their relationship had become over the years, Isabela had managed to save some of those offerings. She hadn’t looked at them for a very long time, but she still kept them close because somewhere deep inside her, she still loved her sister, even if she didn’t always have a good way of showing it.

However, if there was one thing Isabela had learned about her youngest sibling during those first five years, it’s that she was going to do wonders for the world… for their Encanto… for their family. That’s what everyone thought. And she knew that the person who believed that the most was none other than abuela.

So imagine Isabela’s heartache when she realized how that day had shaped everything and everyone. Mirabel was no longer the happy-go-lucky little girl she had come to adore and love, instead, she spent all her time in the Nursery. Dolores said that all she did during this time was cry and ask questions that could never be answered, despite her parents’ best ability to curb her doubts. Julieta and Agustín practically lived in that little green room, the only time they came out was to prepare their meals and do some personal cleaning up. Her heart broke for her little sister, and she couldn’t help but express an emotion she had never felt before: anger. Anger at that door, anger at the people who dared to question her little sister, and anger at herself for not doing more to prevent this from happening. Was this somehow her fault? She was the eldest of this generation, she was supposed to set a proper example for everyone else to follow. Did she not live up to those expectations and as a result the magic punished her sister for her flaws? Her room, a floral sanctuary, suddenly faded to dark and withered colors as the flowers wilted and gave way. Thorns and dried up vines replaced the bright vegetation. And she found herself pacing back and forth constantly, asking questions aloud and talking to herself in an erratic manner. What could have caused this? Why did this happen to Mirabel? What did all of it mean? None of it made sense.

And to add more to that confusion, not too long after this event, Bruno followed the door’s example. He just up and vanished without a trace, not a single word had been said that might explain what had happened to him. Soon it became a rule to never discuss the wayward Madrigal, something that pained Isabela to a degree. Her uncle may have been a quiet and reserved individual, but she loved the man dearly. She remembered all the times he allowed his two older nieces to play dress up with him, something he learned from growing up with his own sisters. Or the moments where he had to find them in an entertaining game of hide and seek, where she would use her vines to hide along the ceilings as Dolores kept herself hidden within the confines of his room. Then there were the days where he did his best to walk despite the two of them clinging to his legs, they claimed it would help him get some muscles on his scrawny body. And while it had been a long time since they had done any of those things, it still didn’t ease the pain she felt when she learned he was no longer there with them. His door had lost its shine and he seemed to have lost his place within their family.

She wondered if this event had added to the cracks because now her family was fractured in more ways than one.

Then there was the rest of them. Abuela Alma came out of her room after a while, but it clear that she wasn’t the same person Isabela had come to worship and adore. She looked more reserved and hardened, there was an air of tension surrounding her now. She scared Isabela, something she never thought was possible. The Madrigals had always made it their mission serve their community and honor their miracle’s blessings, but now that purpose seemed to have been more absolute and punctuated. With some exceptions, she asked that everyone carry on with their assigned duties, explaining that the last thing they needed was for there to be doubts in the mind of the people. The magic was strong, she assured. They were the Madrigals, people who had been chosen by fate itself to ensure their home’s safety and security. And so, most of the clan got back to work, all the while Mirabel stayed hidden within the confines of the Nursery.

If the cracks hadn’t been noticed before, Isabela certainly saw them on her grandmother. She was a shell of her former shelf, a broken individual who was doing her best to keep it all together.

Such a fact was more than unfair, but Isabela heard from Dolores that Mirabel didn’t want to see anyone other than her parents at the moment, a choice that certainly stung but was understandable. Seeing that she was no longer needed within her household, she carried on her usual duties while trying to keep the unspoken and invisible pain hidden. There was nothing more she wanted that to be by her youngest sister’s side. Luisa had agreed to such a notion during one of their rare interactions in the community. But alas, they knew their presence wasn’t welcomed at the moment. But they promised each other than they would be there when the time was right. And so they waited and waited and waited… until it couldn’t be done anymore. Isabela just couldn’t take it any longer. She knew this would have been the perfect moment to finally meet with her baby sister, for her parents had returned to their daily routine with some limits. The point being, they weren’t there at the moment. And through Dolores’s acquired information, she knew the little girl needed someone. She was the eldest, it was her duty to make sure her sister was loved and supported.

She let Luisa know about her intentions before she decided to skip the day’s chores. Instead, she turned around and came back to Casita, where she ran along the halls until she reached the Nursery’s door. Luisa had done her best to keep up with the eldest Madrigal grandchild, but she wasn’t quick enough. And so, Isabela had been the first to enter the sacred room. When Mirabel discovered who it was, her first instinct was to pull the covers over herself. In her best serious voice, she tried to shoo Isabela away, but that didn’t deter the elder sibling in the slightest. Instead, she sat on Mirabel’s bed, right beside her. Once the child understood she wasn’t going to leave, she pouted and continued to sob into the sheets, making sure to hide her face as she did so. It pained Isabela to see Mirabel in such a state, it didn’t suit her at all. She missed the child she had been before, someone who was the picture of living life to the fullest despite her young age.

Isabela wasn’t sure what she could say to convince Mirabel that none of this was her fault and that she was perfect just the way she was, gift or no gift. But she had to try, and did so the only way she knew how. Abuela Alma had taught her about the language of the flowers, maybe this would be her way of reaching Mirabel. Using the knowledge she had acquired from the books given to her by their grandmother, she crafted a flower that she came to associate with Mirabel because of her name. Her youngest sister’s name wasn’t exactly common in their culture, but it certainly matched the child because it had been defined as “wondrous” and her parents came to connect it to “miracle.” The name had been coined from the term mirabilis, and what do you know, there was a flower named for it as well. Mirabilis jalapa, the marvel of Peru, not native to their homeland, but nevertheless it existed and it was adored by many. And who could blame them, this flower held many mysteries and attractions. It could be yellow, red, magenta, pink or white. It could also be a combination of sectors, flakes, and spots. And to add to that beauty, a single plant could yield an assortment of all these options. The possibilities were endless and limitless. Within the palm of her hands sprung forth an assortment of mirabilis jalapa, both blooming and still within their buds.

With her prize in hand, Isabela shared all that she knew about the plant. She explained how fascinating it was that such a small being was capable of producing the grandest of outcomes. This little flower didn’t know any limits, it could be anything it wanted to be, it was truly a magnificent wonder. It was almost like getting a present, you didn’t know what the colorful box contained but you were more than eager to see what was inside. However, sometimes you had to wait for the right moment for that to happen, no matter how tempting it was to sneak a peek. Isabela’s fingers ran along the colorful petals, her eyes catching a glimpse of Mirabel glancing at the object in her hand. She couldn’t help but smile at the action, but she continued with her point. She turned her attention to the small buds. Flowers always looked the best when they were in bloom, but the buds were just as special as they were because while they may be late, it must mean that the best will be saved for last. However, Isabela was sure that when the time came for them to blossom, they would be the most beautiful of them all. 

As soon as she was done explaining such a fact, Isabela felt a familiar pair of arms wrap around her body. She didn’t even need to look to know who it was. She accepted the embrace and returned it fully, all the while cradling the flower that matched her sister. And it was then that the little girl poured her heart and soul out to her eldest sibling. She asked Isabela what had she done to deserve such treatment, why hadn’t she gotten a gift? Did she do something wrong? Was she bad in some way? Whatever it was, she was sorry, so very, very sorry. She would do anything to make up for it if it meant she would receive a miracle like the rest of their family did. It broke Isabela’s heart to hear such things, Mirabel was too young to feel this way. She reassured Mirabel that there was nothing wrong with her, that she didn’t do anything to warrant such a fate. She patted her head and hugged her tightly, small tears escaped Isabela’s eyes as she did so. Then she showed Mirabel the flower once more. Isabela explained how the plant had been born with a gift rather than given one. Much like the plants who shared a name with her, perhaps Mirabel’s gift was already within her and they just didn’t realize it yet. But one day it would shine just like the door. Isabela truly believed that, and she promised Mirabel that she was just as special as anyone in their family. Nothing could ever take away the love she had for her.

For once in a very long time, Mirabel smiled. And that was all Isabela needed to know that she had done something right. In that instant her spirit became flooded with a warmth she had come to associate with her little sister. Things may have not been ideal at the moment for their family, but maybe they could become that way again. Much like a bud, it may take a while, but when it blossomed, it was going to be beautiful. Isabela placed the small bouquet of mirabilis jalapa into Mirabel’s locks before she brought her into her arms again. The two sisters just stayed that way until they were joined by their remaining sibling. They were interrupted by the sounds of Luisa’s sniffles, apparently she had been watching the scene play out but didn’t want to interfere until the time was right. Within a matter of seconds, she was right beside the two girls. Luisa cried but she repeated everything Isabela had said, with her own little twists of course. But nevertheless, the message was clear. Gift or no gift, the two would always love and support Mirabel. The Madrigal sisters spent the rest of the day just huddled together, tears were still shed but whispers of endless promises were shared amongst them as well. It was a bittersweet memory for them all, but it was one Isabela had cherished.

However, Isabela would learn the hard way that sibling relationships could be complicated. At first, it had been easy for Luisa and her to be by Mirabel’s side. But as time went on, the differences between the three of them became more and more obvious. Sometimes she wondered if her mother, aunt and uncle went through the same experience. Each being bound by a certain duty and defined by a gift, causing their branches to drift apart. Even if all of them had their routines and assignments, Luisa tended to be the busiest. Everyone seemed to need some form of heavy lifting, her strength was something the community couldn’t live without. And then there was her, the golden child always had be the living example of perfection. Not a single moment went by where she wasn’t following her abuela’s wishes. And that’s where the tension between the three sisters began. After Mirabel’s failed ceremony and Bruno’s disappearance, Alma had been so convinced that the family wasn’t working hard enough to ensure the continuation of their miracle. As a result, everyone had to work twice, no, thrice as hard as they did before. And as much as they adored and did their best to assist their younger sister, they were also afraid. Afraid of what else could happen if they didn’t try harder, and afraid of disappointing everyone, especially their grandmother.

And maybe that’s why it had been so easy for Isabela to forget about those promises. No one wanted to be on the receiving end of abuela’s temper or judgement. It was something Isabela certainly wasn’t used to given her status, but it was something she bore witness to several times. Only those moments seemed to have increased after that day. Abuela wasn’t the same person she used to be back then, and Isabela couldn’t help but blame Mirabel for that the more time passed. Alma used to be such a gentle and loving soul, but now seemed to be just as tense as the rest of them. She was more unpredictable and stern compared to before, she had lost the spark that made her the grandmother Isabela wanted to be like when she grew up. She expected so much now, the pressures that were constantly placed upon them were enough to make anyone crack. Deep down she knew that was outside of Mirabel’s control, but she couldn’t help but fault someone for this change. And it had to be her because that’s where it all began. Mirabel’s failed ceremony was the catalyst for the Madrigals overworking themselves to compensate for her lack of a door and gift. They just couldn’t take a break nowadays, everything and everyone had to be perfect every single second of the day.

Not to mention that the event coincided with Bruno’s disappearance, adding yet another conflicting heartache to their household. No matter how hard any of them tried, his absence was felt, like a missing piece of the puzzle that just couldn’t be found. Suddenly everything revolved around everyone else other than themselves, the gifts were no longer seen as blessings but rather as chains. Chains that kept them bound to upholding the Madrigal family’s blessings and miracle. It didn’t feel like these gifts belonged to them, but rather the community.

That’s probably what hurt the most, knowing that she would always be nothing more than an extension of another. First, the miracle. Then, her grandmother. And now, the people. Isabela Madrigal felt as if she would never be seen as her own person. Not that way Mirabel was, something that added to the strain between them. Unlike her, Mirabel wasn’t tied to anything or anyone. Whenever someone talked about her or looked at her, it wasn’t the way they did with Isabela. Mirabel might have been considered the giftless Madrigal and an outcast in a magical family, but at least she was seen as her own person. She wasn’t labeled like the rest of them or defined by just one role. No, much like that flower she had shown her all those years ago, Mirabel was free to be whomever she wanted to be. And what made that fact all the more insulting to Isabela was that Mirabel didn’t appreciate it. She was always trying so hard to be like the rest of them, that she didn’t realize the price that came with it.

And yet, much like the mirabilis jalapa, Mirabel did in fact possess a gift. She had been born with it, and that was the ability to stand up against everything the Madrigals knew. First, she paid no mind to herself as she accepted Antonio’s hand and led him to his door. Despite the traumatic experience, she still put others before herself. Then it appeared she had been able to soothe Luisa’s hidden insecurities and pressures by telling her letting her know that it was acceptable to ask for help. She reminded Luisa that even the strongest of people needed support. After that she went against the number one rule by mentioning Bruno and even going as far as to discover the lost vision within his abandoned room. And last but not least, Mirabel had helped her see a side of her she didn’t know existed. She had given her an outlet to finally let it all go, she showed her how it was the blemishes that accented beauty rather than the perfections. This was the kind of power Mirabel possessed, this was her gift! After all these years, she finally opened her eyes. What else could she do?

I hate all of you!

She had received her answer through those words. Because Mirabel had also been the first one to finally break free from them all, by confessing something they didn’t think she was capable of feeling. And that’s probably what hurt Isabela the most, not the fact that she said it, but how it had gotten to a point where she had to say it. No doubt her sister couldn’t find any other words to match the emotions she was feeling in that moment. How would anyone feel knowing that they were just trying to help, but instead were accused of only making things worse? Not only that, to be blamed for events outside of your control, that kind of pain was just indescribable. But she knew she wasn’t any better than her grandmother in that regard. How many times did she do that when it came to Mirabel? Far too many, and it wasn’t fair to her little sister. She knew that Mirabel only wanted to help strengthen their community, strengthen their home, and make their family proud. And yet despite those good intentions, all Isabela did was cast her to the side for the sake of perfection, something she came to loathe with all of her being.

She had failed Mirabel, and now she was gone. She would never forgive herself for not doing more for her.

That was when she finally allowed the walls to come down as the tears blurred her vision. She felt her legs grow weak and let her knees meet the ground. She brought her hands to her face as her hair fell against her cheeks and arms. She let out it all out, and it came in the form of a pained wail.

That seemed to have caught the attention of her other sister, the one who still remained at her side. Luisa stopped dead in her tracks once she heard the cry. She turned to face the source of the sound, and was greeted by the sight of her broken older sister.

“Isa?” Luisa called out. “Isa?”

Soon Luisa was standing before Isabela, her strapping frame squatted right next to her as she placed her muscular arms around her. Isabela’s wasn’t in a position to see Luisa’s face, but she could hear the emotion in her voice. It was a mixture of confusion, worry, and sorrow.

“Isa, what’s wrong?” she questioned, her tone never wavering as she did so. “Are you okay? Did you hurt yourself?”

Luisa scanned Isabela for any possible wounds, clearly misunderstanding the situation and thinking her sibling had somehow managed to injury herself. As much as Luisa loved and admired her sister, she couldn’t deny that they weren’t exactly in their element, especially Isabela. Luisa could handle her fair share of obstacles and harsh terrains, but Isabela was more used to neatness and structure. Which is why it wouldn’t surprise her to know that she had somehow lost her footing or maybe got caught in something. However, after a few seconds, it was pretty obvious that wasn’t the case. So naturally Luisa was more than confused about the sudden outburst, although she still had a feeling Isabela was hurt to some degree. She would soon receive her answer as Isabela shook her head, all the while continuing to cry. Luisa had to admit that she wasn’t used to seeing her in such a state, the eldest Madrigal grandchild had always been the model of excellence and a cause for envy, everybody wanted to be her. Such a sentiment also applied to Luisa, but to a different degree. Luisa didn’t want Isabela’s gift or status as the golden child, rather, she wanted the respect and appreciation Isabela received on a day to day basis.

She wondered if Mirabel felt the same.

“Isa, what’s going on?” she questioned. “Come on, talk to me.”

But Isabela just continued to cry, her body vibrated with hiccups and racked with sobs to the point where she struggled to breathe. Sweat became mixed with tears as they beaded down her skin. Her focus was slowly becoming more and more disoriented, the whole world started spinning. Soon her senses became blinded by a cool ringing sensation. She was losing herself… she couldn’t keep it all in anymore… she didn’t know what to do… she didn’t have her gift… her home was gone… Mirabel wasn’t here… she disappeared… and it was all her fault… it was her fault… it was her fault…

Luisa watched as her sister seemed to be stuck in some kind of disordered state. On instinct, Luisa looked around for some kind of assistance. But alas, she remembered that it was just Isabela and her. The middle Madrigal sister became just as lost as her sister. In that moment, it would have been easy for her to breakdown alongside Isabela, but something stirred within her. For all her life, Luisa Madrigal had been known as the strength of her community. The person you could call upon if you needed help moving buildings, breaking rocks, carrying supplies, or assistance with construction. However, something she had only learned and come to accept recently was that physical strength could only do so much. It didn’t account for mental stability. And that had been her greatest weakness as well as one of the reasons they were here at the moment.

It’s because she wasn’t strong in the real way, the way that should have mattered. That’s how she lost one sister, and she refused to lose another.

And so, Luisa just let out a deep breath before she gently placed her hands on Isabela’s frame. The older Madrigal sister didn’t seem to realize what the latter was doing, which worked in Luisa’s favor as she slowly placed Isabela against her body. With delicate precision, she maneuvered Isabela’s head against her chest, specifically just over her heart. With this task accomplished, she let out a series of slow yet thoughtful breaths as she leveled the rate of her heart beat. She didn’t know if this would work, but something within her said that this was the right thing to do. While Luisa wasn’t used to seeing this side of Isabela, she couldn’t fault her for reacting in such a manner. She didn’t receive a proper answer from her concerning the cause of the sudden attack, but Luisa could only imagine that it had something do with everything that had happened. So many things had gone wrong recently, something none of them were used to. They were the Madrigals, it was understandable for anyone to think they lived an easy life. They could do things that weren’t humanly possible, abilities that made daily tasks simple and effortless. Life was certainly more entertaining when you had the power of a hundred people.

But everyone also didn’t seem to realize how such powers didn’t make them invincible. Everyone, including themselves at times, forgot they were human too. And being human meant you weren’t perfect. No matter how hard any of them tried, they would never be able to erase that fact. 

She was brought back to reality when she started to feel Isabela’s panicked body slowly relaxing into her hold. Her respirations became even as she started to breathe out through her mouth, her heart didn’t feel like it was trying to escape out of her chest anymore, and her senses were slowly starting to return to her. Her frame lost the tension that had been building inside her since the moment they ventured into the thick vegetation. But Luisa still didn’t feel comfortable letting go her just yet, so she kept her close and waited for the right moment. Minutes went by before Isabela regained the use of her hands and slowly moved them against Luisa’s. She then gently patted them before finally gazing at her younger sister’s face. Immediately, she became filled with guilt once she realized what had happened. She had already burdened one sister, the last thing she wanted was to repeat those actions with her remaining sibling.

“I-I’m sorry,” she uttered, her voice hoarse and disheveled.

They had always done their best to keep their problems to themselves, no matter how tempting it was to bring up the topic to others. Honestly, it was something of an unspoken agreement between the members of the Madrigal clan. Whatever was bothering you, you best keep it to yourself because Madrigals had no right to complain when they had been blessed more times than they could count. Besides, complaining about their lives would be the equivalent of saying they didn’t want their miracle. Admitting that there burdens that came attached to such abilities was almost like saying they didn’t want to be a magical and fantastical Madrigal. But that’s not to say that some weren’t aware of the pressures that ailed them.

Luisa may have become an open book when she was around Mirabel, but Isabela and her had some serious discussions before in the past as well, albeit not to the extent Luisa had shared with their younger sister. Every now and again, whenever they managed to have some free time to themselves, they would talk. Isabela had confided in Luisa about how annoying it was to constantly be the perfect golden child, as Luisa shared her feelings concerning the workload she had to put up with. Overall, they had caught glimpses of the cracks that had begun to form on their foundation, but not the ones on Casita. No, that right had been reserved for Mirabel it seems. Apparently their house was more like them that they thought, it had acquired some of their behaviors and habits, including the one where you had to keep the pressures inside until you just couldn’t handle it anymore. Maybe much like with Luisa and Isabela, who had only felt comfortable showcasing their vulnerabilities to each other, Casita had only felt safe sharing its secrets with Mirabel. In way Luisa wondered if she had Casita to thank for Mirabel coming to them, and providing them with an outlet for the strain that had been forming on their family for years.

At the thought of her house and little sister, Luisa couldn’t help but let out a dejected sigh. First, their abuelo had given his life to ensure their future. Then Bruno disappeared without saying a single word to anyone. And now Casita and Mirabel, one was currently in ruins while the other was nowhere to be found. All their family wanted to do was to help people, so why did these events befall them? Maybe because they weren’t helping the right people, the ones who should have mattered and come first before anyone else.

“So am I,” Luisa answered. “For everything.”

In response, Isabela just shook her head as she did her best to wipe away the tear stains on her face. Her breathing was still labored but at least she regained her senses. The world didn’t feel like it was going to collapse on her anymore, an example of cruel irony seeing as how she just escaped a falling house not too long ago. But nevertheless, the ache still remained as well as the heavy pressure on her chest. She looked away from Luisa, clearly still ashamed of her earlier episode and because of what she was going to confess to next.

“It’s not your fault,” she remarked. “I’m the older sibling, it’s my job to protect you both. To keep you safe from all the bad things, but in the end I couldn’t do any of that.”

Isabela might have appeared aloof to the untrained eye, but she wasn’t selfish, she loved this family more than anything else in the world. As a result, everything she did, she did for their sake. Whether it was limiting her powers based on what people perceived was perfection, dressing and acting a certain way, marrying someone she didn’t even love, and forsaking relationships, she did it all for her familia. However, she didn’t realize that she shouldn’t have do any of those things if it meant giving up her own happiness. Especially when family was supposed to love you for who you were rather than what they wanted you to be. And so far the only one who had ever given her an inkling of that affection was none other than Mirabel. But instead of appreciating that sentiment, she just pushed her away.

“I should have done more for the both of you. I should have been there when it really mattered,” Isabela stated. “You shouldn’t have had to bear the burdens of our home.”

With that the elder sister placed a hand against Luisa’s cheeks, tears welling up in her eyes once more as she gazed into Luisa’s.

“You’ve always felt like you had to be the strong one, strong enough for us all,” she added. “But you shouldn’t have done that alone. I’m sorry I couldn’t help you.”

Luisa was about to protest but Isabela wasn’t done.

“I was just jealous.”

That immediately caught the middle Madrigal sister’s attention, her eyes widened with surprise.

“Jealous?” she questioned. “You?”

She knew Isabela didn’t exactly enjoy her position within their village, but she never thought it extended this far. This was the first time she ever heard such an admission. Isabela merely nodded her head as she let go of Luisa’s face.

“I wasn’t just frustrated with Mirabel, I was jealous of her.”

In that moment, it felt as if the pieces of a complicated puzzle came together. Luisa’s mouth became agape as she stared at Isabela with a mixtures of astonishment and realization. Memories of Isabela and Mirabel came flooding back to her, recalling the times they just ignored one another at best and were at each other’s throats at worst. It’s one of the reasons Luisa found herself becoming more protective of Mirabel as the years went on. Yes she loved Isabela, but that didn’t mean she found herself agreeing with the dynamic between the two. Luisa knew that it was unfair to play favorites, but it was a habit they seemed to have acquired from their grandmother. Alma’s affections were as fickle as the weather, especially if they were talking about Tía Pepa’s weather. One minute you could be her absolute favorite, then next moment she’s scolding you for not trying hard enough. The point being that Luisa did tend to favor Mirabel over Isabela, even if the two older siblings did share plenty of heart to hearts in the past. But there was something about Mirabel specifically that Luisa felt she had to watch over and protect. Honestly, it probably all stemmed from the fact that Mirabel didn’t have a gift… and because Mirabel’s love wasn’t as unpredictable as Alma’s. When you were around Mirabel, there was always an aura of pure adoration and tenderness that surrounded her. You didn’t have to be showcasing your gift to receive any form of appreciation from her, she just loved you for who you were.

“She wasn’t like us, didn’t have to face the challenges we did every day. She didn’t have to be someone she wasn’t, she could be whoever she wanted to be.”

It was then Luisa remembered the conversation they had all those years ago in the Nursery, back when Mirabel was still mourning the loss of her door. She had only caught the moment midway but she heard enough to know that Isabela had done her best to reassure Mirabel that she was perfect just the way she was.

“Like the mirabilly jalapeño?”

Despite the tension, Isabela couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle. She covered her face as she did her best to keep the tears at bay, but they seemed to be escaping out of humor rather than sorrow and regret. Even though Luisa was sure she messed up the name, she was glad that her mistake ended up working in her favor. How strange, something like that would set off the both of them before, there was no space for imperfections in the Madrigal lineage, but now they couldn’t help but embrace them. If there was anything they had come to learn recently, it’s that the mistakes that could lead to lessons. Accepting flaws weren’t a sign of weakness, but rather, it was a sign of true strength.

“The mirabilis jalapa,” Isabela corrected, although there was not a hint of annoyance to be found in her voice. “Just like that flower, Mirabel could be whatever she wanted to be, she doesn’t know things like limits or restraints.”

Luisa couldn’t argue there. Some say that Mirabel tried too hard, and there’s where she was most prone to getting in the way or causing some sort of ruckus, but that never deterred her. How ironic it was, they had been blessed with magical abilities that should have opened doors for them, literally and metaphorically. And yet, for whatever reason, they needed to be kept in check. But Mirabel, she didn’t have a gift, therefore, she had no restrictions compared to the rest of them. Luisa truly underestimated how special her little sister was.

“She always wanted to be like us,” Isabela said. “She always wanted to be like me. Why?”

The heartache had returned at such a thought, Luisa bowed her head in shame because she knew what was coming next.

“I’m not someone who deserves to be idolized. I’m not some perfect princess who has it all, I’m just a vain and self-absorbed brat who thinks the whole world should make way for her,” she added. “I thought I was stuck in a role, but it was nothing compared to the position Mirabel found herself in.”

She ran a hand along her hair before kneading the flesh on her neck.

“She needed me but I wasn’t there for her because I was so caught up in caring about what other people thought of me. I pushed her away, I thought she was nothing more than a nuisance. My own sister, someone I was supposed to protect and love no matter what.”

Isabela let out a deep breath, and her hands clutched onto her faded colorful dress.

“Why would she want to be me? There’s nothing good about me, especially when I compare myself to her,” Isabela remarked. “Her devotion was real, unwavering, and unconditional. That’s more than I can say for myself.”

Her eyes wandered to the vast forest that surrounded them. They still had so much to search through, what Isabela wouldn’t give to have her gift for just this moment and she wouldn’t ask for it again. She’ll go her whole life without needing or wanting her ability as long as she had Mirabel back. That’s all she cared about now. 

“I took all of that for granted. Gift or no gift, Mirabel didn’t deserve how she was treated. I should have followed her example instead of expecting her to follow mine.”

Then the tears returned, they flowed down Isabela’s face like streams. She placed her hands over her eyes as she leaned her body against Luisa’s once more. Her frame shook like a leaf as she allowed the heartache to consume her again.

“Now she’s gone, and it’s my fault. I was so horrible to her, I don’t blame her for leaving the way she did. After all I’ve done, I can’t say I wouldn’t hate myself too,” she sobbed. “But believe me… I didn’t hate our baby sister… I didn’t mean to make her feel bad about herself.”

Despite all that happened between the two girls over the years, Isabela wished she had shown Mirabel how much she truly meant to her.

“I didn’t mean for any of this to happen,” Isabela remarked as she hung her head in shame. “I’m sorry I’m not the sister you deserve.”

She regretted so much when it came to Mirabel, they both did. But Luisa could understand how that burden belonged more to Isabela than her. Luisa was guilty of neglect, but Isabela was the one who wasn’t afraid to throw metaphorical punches. Much like the rest of the townspeople and their grandmother, they forgot that their family was human and that meant you felt things, things that could either make or break you.

“I’m sorry I’m not perfect in the way that should have mattered, I’m sorry for not doing enough for the both of you.”

Isabela knew that it wasn’t just Mirabel she had make mistakes with, there was also Luisa too. She recalled the bond they used to have when they were children, she treasured how close they were before the cracks separated them. As far as Isabela was concerned, Mirabel had every right to leave her behind… and she most certainly wouldn’t blame her remaining sibling for following that example. Even if the idea horrified her.

“What if I push you away too?”

Luisa bit her lip at the thought of such a notion. That’s the last thing that would happen, for Luisa didn’t want to lose any more family members than she already had. And even if her older sister wasn’t perfect and had a history of fallacies, she wouldn’t abandon her. For they needed each other now more than ever. It was then that Isabela let out another series of sobs as clutched onto Luisa’s blouse. Just the very sound of it all was enough to shatter Luisa’s heart even more than it already had.

“Oh Mirabel, please forgive me.”

With that, the middle sibling had heard enough and she finally allowed herself to react to Isabela’s declaration. She wrapped her muscular arms around Isabela’s smaller frame and brought her close. Her brown hair became entangled with Isabela’s black colored strands as their faces touched one another. Tear streaks adorned Luisa’s face as the small drops finally escaped their prisons. Now was not the time to hold back, there was no point in trying to be the strong one anymore. She was human, she had feelings, she had flaws, and she had weaknesses. But instead of turning her away and insulting her for over such a fact, rather, Mirabel had embraced them. Literally and metaphorically. And so, she carried what she had learned from her younger sister and applied that knowledge to her older sibling. She rubbed Isabela’s back before giving her another tight squeeze. She understood Isabela’s feelings all too well, but she needed to hear another side of the story. It would have been foolish and unfair of her to try and make it seem like there was only one person to blame for this mess. She had to accept responsibility for her role as well.

“I think you’re carrying way too much.”

She recalled the time Mirabel had spoken such words, now it was time for Luisa to use them. Who could blame her, that seemed to be the story of every Madrigal’s life, even the ones who didn’t possess gifts. And that included her grandmother. After all, the only reason they had their paradise was because of such a fact.

Abuela Alma, always having to be the one to carry the past and hold onto the future within the palms of her hands.

Mamá and Papá, one always having to be the caretaker while the other never seemed to live up to the criteria of a proper match.

Tía Pepa and Tío Félix, the first had to be on guard when it came to handling emotions and reactions and the second had to be an inhibitor of sorts for the other.

Tío Bruno, never being able to shake the blame of visions beyond his control.

Isabela, being known for possessing a perfect reputation regardless of the circumstances.

Dolores, a never ending listener and communicator who had to be on alert no matter what time of the day it was.

Camilo, keeping up with the demands of others despite experiencing identity whiplash every time it occurred.

Antonio, a pressure to compensate for the lack of a proper predecessor.

Then there was her, she carried the weight of the world on her shoulders.

But there was also Mirabel, a person who had to work twice as hard to ensure her place within their family.

All of that, it could be too much at times. As a child, it was easy to see the difference between her family and all the others that inhabited their community. No one could heal injuries within a second like her mother, no could have a cloud floating literally over their head like her aunt, and no could have their eyes glow as they shared an image of the future. No one else in the Encanto was capable of that, which meant her clan was special. Her grandmother had always enforced such an idea every time someone mentioned their blessings. The Madrigals were special, therefore they were worthy of special privileges, like acquiring their gifts.

Luisa may have not been the smartest of them all, especially since people needed her brawn over brain, but that didn’t mean she was a fool. She noticed things, and even if she preferred to not call attention to them like the cracks during Antonio’s ceremony, she still couldn’t help but be an observer at times. For example, something she had learned over the years was how the gifts seemed to be connected to the individual’s interests and personalities.

She had heard the stories concerning her mother’s upbringing with her siblings, and right away she noticed such a pattern with the triplets. Julieta had always been classified as the caretaker, the responsible one who had to look after everyone. Pepa tended to be an emotional handful, she was never afraid to showcase her feelings and reactions. And Bruno was labeled as the cautious one, always having to overthink the situation and come up with possible paths. Therefore, it shouldn’t have come as a surprise to know what their abilities ended up being.

Then it was her generation’s turn, the beginning of a new chapter of Madrigal blessings. When they were children, Luisa would notice how her older sister seemed to express an interest towards their mother’s herbalism. From the plants’ strange and exotic names to their captivating appearances to their abilities and uses, Isabela couldn’t help but become enthralled by it all. Being able to craft and control plants definitely suited her sister. Then there was her prima, Dolores, the one who had a penchant for telling secrets and whispering gossip among the masses. Although being young at the time, the knowledge Dolores spread was usually more entertaining than useful. For example, one day she overheard where babies came from and that became the talk of the household, for a variety of reasons. Enhanced hearing certainly complimented her.

She had been the third in line to succeed her family’s miracle, and throughout the time she waited, she couldn’t help but wonder what her gift would be. What ability matched her? What talent would represent all that she was? Needless to say that she had been more than eager to know the answer, and she would soon receive it as she walked in the steps of her predecessors. The moment she laid her hands on that seemingly eternal candle, she felt different… lighter, warmer… stronger. Her grandmother had gazed upon her with pride and adoration as she asked Luisa if she agreed to the promise the Madrigals made to the Encanto. She nodded her head and verbally repeated the sentiment. Then she made her next move, her now blessed hand graced the surface of the doorknob engraved with the first letter of her name. This was it. This was how she was going to strengthen their community.

It turns out, it was literally that. Strength. Enhanced strength, unlimited strength, almighty strength… that’s who she was. That’s the gift she had been blessed with as the door shined with her name and purpose. Her familia couldn’t have been prouder of her as she entered her new room for the first time. An endless sea of stony terrain and mountains, with a space dedicated to both training and relaxation set to the side. Every single angle seemed to possess something to test her strength and abilities. It was perfect for her, that’s what Abuela Alma had said to her that day. Even her padres had to agree with her, and she wouldn’t truly understand why until after the ceremony had ended.

That night, when she got settled into her new living area, her parents shared the story of her birth. November 14^th was the day she arrived into the world a little earlier than expected, she had surprised them all. And with her untimely birth came the fact that she had been born smaller and more fragile than the typical newborn. Agustín and Julieta had feared the worst, they were afraid of losing her too soon, before they even had the chance to know who she was. But they held on hope, and they prayed that a miracle would be bestowed upon their second child. And just like that, she got better, she lived to continue the Madrigal line. Which is why she was here with them now, celebrating her new gift and life amongst her family and community. They couldn’t ask for anything more when it came to Luisa, she was already perfect in their eyes. And her gift was nothing short of perfect either. They were so proud of her, of what she would accomplish, and how she would bless their family.

When she first heard this story, she wondered if she had been given a second chance because she was supposed to do something important with her life. After all, isn’t that what anyone thinks when they’ve overcome the obstacles placed before them? That maybe there was some sort of higher purpose waiting for them, and they had to keep on living in order to reach that special outcome. According to almost everyone, that purpose was to strengthen their community. Which is what she did when it was decided that she had proper control of her newfound strength.

She became the rock of their home. Something Alma seemed to take great gratification in, even if she never said anything aloud pertaining to the matter. Alma could be like Luisa at times, being an open book despite not saying anything. Actions spoke louder than words, a trait Mirabel picked up on rather quickly. Her eye twitched whenever she was nervous, such a small deed somehow held a grand secret. And in her abuela’s case, it was when she held onto the locket that normally hung on her chatelaine belt. She never did that in public, only within the private sanctuary of their home, and normally it was when no one else was around. At least, that’s what she believed. But every now and again Luisa would catch sight of her holding onto the precious trinket with the same delicateness she did with the candle. She quickly realized what was in that little locket, it was none other than another portrait of her late abuelo. It was during those moments that Luisa saw another half to her grandmother, a more vulnerable side, one she didn’t think she possessed. In her world, Alma was the strongest person of them all, even if she was the one who had enhanced strength. But events like this seemed to prove otherwise, not that Luisa judged her for it. She was aware of how heartbreaking it was for her grandmother to lose the love of her life. And it wasn’t necessarily this action that caused some concern for Luisa. Rather, it’s the events that lead to these moments that worried the third Madrigal granddaughter.

Abuela Alma only gazed into that locket and spoke to it whenever there was something occupying her mind. Every time it would be a different occurrence, but it was never for the smallest of things. And one of those times involved Luisa. Her grandmother had spoken to Pedro’s small image concerning her gift. She told the picture all that happened and how proud she was, how proud Pedro would have been, to witness such an event. At first, Luisa had been more than elated to hear such news. But then that elation turned to confusion then it transformed to bittersweet realization. Alma went on to admit that while such a gift would be more than useful for their community, it also brought back reminders of him. Pedro had been her rock, his name had been defined as such. And now Luisa understood why her grandmother felt the need to converse with the portrait.

Abuelo Pedro had been her family’s rock, the one that laid the foundation for their miracle and paradise. And now she seemed destined to carry on that legacy through her strength. She would ensure the safety and stability of her home in the place of her grandfather. That’s what motivated Luisa to do all that she could for her home. With that, she defined her role and fulfilled it. There was nothing Luisa couldn’t do, her brawn wasn’t bound by limits. And she couldn’t have been any prouder knowing that she was contributing in some way to the Encanto. Soon her services seemed to be one of the more popular requests, not a day went by when someone didn’t need her assistance, which she had been more than happy to answer… at first.

In the beginning, her life had revolved around simple tasks like helping the construction workers lift their tools or carry an elder’s belongings to their destination or assist her father with his chores, not that the two of them minded if that was the case. Her relatives and her might have had varying schedules, but it was relatively easy to interact with one another even outside Casita’s walls. Luisa always enjoyed being a part of her older sister’s floral bursts or basking under her aunt’s sunshine and rainbows or helping her uncle set up his vision rituals. It always felt like they were united in those moments. And it was easy to think that all was right within their family when others witnessed occasions such as this.

Luisa used to believe that too, but what she failed to understand at the time was the concept of pressure. And it make matters even more complicated, it wasn’t something Luisa could actually fend off in the way she was used to. It was an invisible enemy. And another thing, sometimes it wasn’t obvious. Especially when you always agreed to whatever task that added to that pressure. Which makes the people believe that it not’s a big deal for you, when in reality it could be the straw that breaks the camel’s back. But if you refused to perform such duties, then there was pressure to accept and go along with whenever was asked. Because if you didn’t, then you would feel bad, especially when you were more than capable of handling such assignments compared to others. And it didn’t stop there either, there was a constant need to strive for perfection, to be a model of a power far beyond anyone’s imagination. Even if it meant sacrificing a little bit of yourself in the process of doing so. There was just no way to win when you’re a Madrigal.

Even if she wasn’t known for her brains, Luisa knew better when it came to growing up. When you’re young, you’re not supposed to think about things like this. You were supposed to enjoy your time of innocence, before the reality of everything can consume you and you realize just how much of the true world was hidden all this time. But a Madrigal didn’t have such a pleasure, especially not after that day. When a time for celebration and jubilation, became one associated with uncertainty and doubt.

This event would mark the day she came to learn what pressure meant and what it was.

She could only remember bits and pieces of Isabela and Dolores’s ceremonies, but she could say with certainty that everyone had been more than enthralled with the two oldest girls’ gifts and rooms. She recalled swimming in a sea of roses with her older sister while in her chambers and taking a nap with her prima because of how serene her new space was compared to other areas. The first gift ritual she had been a proper witness to was Camilo’s. She would never forget the day where his mischievous smile was forever imprinted on the door assigned to him as his gift was revealed to the Encanto. Then it came time for the next Madrigal to repeat the process, her own younger sister.

Needless to say that Luisa had been more than excited for her sibling, because she couldn’t help but wonder what kind of a magical ability awaited her. If her theory about the powers matching the individual’s personality was true, then the possibilities for Mirabel were endless. From a young age the girl was a go getter, someone who refused to be tied down by limits and displayed a passion for everything around her. But most importantly, Mirabel had true and good intentions, such as making their family proud. Looking back on it now, maybe there had always been a pressure to accomplish such a task even before that incident. It was a moment where Luisa realized that not even she was strong enough to prevent the bad things from happening.

She recalled how that morning played out, with Mirabel being the first to awaken from an already hesitant slumber. It was obvious she barely got a wink of proper sleep, for she was too exhilarated for the day’s events. That was the day she would perform their family’s tradition, acquire a gift, and take her place in her new room, leaving the Nursery for good. It would be the first time the little green room would be truly empty. It had been such a bittersweet thought, but a welcomed one. Soon every Madrigal would have their role and place in the world, within their world.

If there’s one thing Luisa could appreciate more during that time, it was the customs and dedication that went into the gift ceremonies. She had gone through all the steps herself, but she never truly understood why they did what they did when it came to their ritual. She had been nearing the age of nine when the time came for Camilo and Mirabel to bask in the candle’s glow, so she had been able to play a part in helping everyone prepare for such occasions. It had mostly been heavy lifting, but she managed to catch glimpses of the other measures.

She watched as her parents designed an outfit specifically for Mirabel to wear for her ceremony, one that correlated with the color scheme of their candle… and their late patriarch. White represented Pedro Madrigal, apparently it was a color he often wore during his days in this world. When it had been time for the triplets to go through their rite of passage, Alma had tailored such attire in honor of their father, as a way for them to carry a piece of him for this important milestone. Then there was the gold, a hue shared with the miracle candle. They would wear accents in honor of the sacrifice given to bring the magical object to life. The outfits were always different, crafted to match the child’s preferences, but the colors always remained the same. The parents would also stand by the child’s door and wait for them to make their entrance and walk. It was a way for the community to remember what branch would claim the child and gift as their own.

Her madre always cooked the birthday child’s favorite dishes for the celebration. It didn’t matter how many items there were, she put her heart and soul into cooking and baking goods suited to the little one’s tastes. Her mother always had a smile on her face whenever she had been assigned such a duty. Normally, preparing food almost looked like a chore to Julieta, but for moments like this, it became something entirely new. She couldn’t have been any prouder of her mother for ensuring that delicious and nourishing food adorned their celebrations.

Then there was the curtain of flowers. This hadn’t been a part of the ritual in the beginning, it had only been added after Isabela had been given her gift. Their grandmother thought it would have been a splendid idea for her to contribute to the ceremony in such a manner. And so, the eldest Madrigal grandchild always created the floral screens for the grand reveals of the future gifted child. Plus, she always made an assortment of botanic arrangements for Casita’s interior, a different color to mark each occasion. Luisa had to commend her sister for always outdoing herself when it came to decorations.

Another custom of theirs during this time was the packing of belongings. All of the child’s possessions were loaded into boxes and stored in the Nursery until their new room was ready. Once the magical space was given life, the items were moved into them. Only then would the area truly belong to the newly gifted Madrigal. Normally it was the parents who handled such a task, but Luisa started to contribute to this cause when the time came for her to move into her newly designed dwelling. She found such a simple activity to be very rewarding.

Also, there was the role Abuela played before the commission of the magical rite of passage. She would ask to speak to the child alone before they made their way to the party, leaving just the two of them within the confines of the Nursery. And it was during this time, that she shared the story of their miracle. Yes, every child new the gist of it before their fifth birthday, but it was for this celebration that Alma bestowed upon them the full story. The matriarch claimed that it was a way to showcase how important this milestone was for their family and community. And so, she shared the details of her past, how she once fell in love with a man named Pedro, carried and bore his three children, fled their home during a period of loss, and reached the point of no return when he sacrificed his life for the sake of the future. In that moment, their candle’s flame burned with a new kind of glow. Magic filled the air as a paradise burst forth along with the radiant blaze. And it was there that they created a home for themselves, where no danger would ever harm them and where enchantment reigned. Their Encanto needed the Madrigals to strengthen their community, strengthen their home, and make their family proud. With that story in their mind and heart, it was time for them to see what awaited them at their door.

And last, but not least, before the child walked to their destiny, Alma would deliver a speech dedicated to reminding the Encanto of their history and the purpose of their blessings. Once that task was complete, the little one would follow the trail to the golden door made in accordance with their conception. It was then that they would touch the miracle candle, all the while agreeing with the oath Alma bestowed upon them. Finally, they would touched that doorknob and see how the Madrigal would contribute to their Encanto.

Little things like this made a ceremony revered and sacred, no one could afford to make a mistake during this time. Everything always seemed to go perfectly for these occasions… until that wasn’t the case anymore.

Mirabel, adorned in her newly designed ceremonial dress with a ribbon in her hair to match, walked down the stairs with their grandmother by her side. The child had received her devoted time with the matriarch before she had to leave to greet the crowd. In the meantime, their parents, older sister, and her had showered Mirabel with praise and affection as they waited behind the curtain of flowers. Agustín was sobbing, proclaiming how much his little girl was growing up. Julieta did her best to ease her husband’s cries, all the while doting on the baby of their family.

The youngest daughter had been caught in barrage of kisses and cuddles from both parents, much to her delight and embarrassment. Isabela taken her face into her hands and proclaimed how proud she was of Mirabel for taking this next step. She boasted about how grand her room would surely be because it would belong to a wondrous child like herself. As for Luisa, she gave the little girl a tight squeeze, she might have overdone it a little since the child let out a small squeak when she did so. A few tears had escaped her eyes as she rubbed her cheek against Mirabel’s, much to their family’s worry yet entertainment. Julieta and Agustín had to gently pry their second eldest away from their youngest, reminding Luisa that while their mother could heal broken bones, this wasn’t the time and place for it. The middle Madrigal sister simply nodded her head as she wiped away the tears, she managed to get out how happy she was for Mirabel before her moment came to shine.

Mamá and Papá had promised to be waiting for her by her door with Abuela, as Isabela and her would be standing amongst the crowd with the other members of their family. With that, the two parents made their way to their destination as the two older sisters joined their remaining relatives. Isabela held Luisa close, their hands interlocking with one another, as Dolores had her arms wrapped around Camilo’s shoulders. All the while Tío Bruno, Tío Félix, and Tía Pepa stood beside them, their expressions showcased their anticipation. As for Abuela Alma, she stood proudly in the center of it all, standing on the stairs that led to the golden entry as she made her speech.

Within the next minute, Mirabel’s presence was made known as the curtains were pulled away from her waiting place. Applause was dedicated to the future server of the Encanto, as well as a wave of acclaim and praise. Once such actions had been performed, Alma made her way to the door and stood beside the overjoyed parents. Proud and eager eyes gazed upon the little girl as she slowly made her way to the glowing door. She was nervous, that much was obvious, Mirabel always held the tips of her fingers whenever she expressed such an emotion. No matter how times the ceremony was performed, the celebrated child couldn’t help but possess some form of anxiety. There was a lot of pressure to not only prepare for the festivity, but for the child to model the image of flawlessness with their appearance and actions. Time always seemed to move slower whenever the saunter was made, but the air would become filled with hope and expectation with each passing second. Finally, Mirabel had reached her destination. Abuela stared lovingly at the little girl as she placed the candle before her, Mirabel gently guided her hands to the sides and accepted the oath Alma had whispered. When that was done, she stepped over to the door, wiping her hands against her dress as she did so. Her palms tended to get sweaty whenever she was nervous or worried, yet another trait she knew of her sister.

The crowd waited with baited breath, anxious to know what the next Madrigal gift would be. Everything was going according to plan… everything was perfect. Until it wasn’t. None of them, not even with Bruno’s gift, could have ever foresaw what was to come next. Because instead of shining as brightly as the golden flame of the candle, the magical door slowly faded away from existence. Within an instant, a time for celebration turned into a nightmare. Everything had happened next was a blur for the second oldest Madrigal sibling. The people were lost, her parents worked to console her sister, Abuela recoiled from the scene, her tíos tried to usher her primos, hermana, and her away, and Mirabel… her poor hermanita… looked like the whole world had come crashing down before putting on her best smile as she made her exit.

It was all just too much, the pressure was now boiling up more than ever before. Only this time it didn’t involve her gift and chores. Once the people had been cleared out of Casita, the Madrigals were left to deal with the fallout. Julieta and Agustín hadn’t left the Nursery. Abuela was nowhere to be seen, but Dolores confirmed that she was in her room before retreating into her own sanctuary. Her aunt and uncle had been hesitant to let go of any of their children but they figured it was probably the best choice for her at this point. At least in her room she couldn’t hear the doubt and fear. As for Camilo, being the constant adorer of his mother, choose to stay with his father and her in her room. Isabela preferred to be alone at the moment, something her other uncle echoed as he quickly gathered his rat friends and fled the scene. Luisa had been left alone with her thoughts, standing in the center of what had been a grand occasion. The once lively room that had been filled with color and adoration, suddenly faded into a dark hue… just like that door. Luisa just stood there, absorbing the quiet and tension, wondering where it all went wrong.

After what seemed like an eternity, Luisa couldn’t take it anymore. She wasn’t used to thinking so much, everyone usually kept her busy with their physical tasks for the day, and she never needed to use her head when it came to her chores. But she had all the time in the world to think, and she didn’t like it at all. She had to get out here! She needed to escape! She needed to be in control again!

Within seconds, Luisa followed her family’s example as she ran into her room. As soon as the door closed, the hurricane was unleashed. The cry of a warrior escaped her lips as she smashed through rocks, crushed hardy structures, and pummeled all that was in her path. Tears burned her face as sweat beaded down her back, her once formal appearance slowly become disheveled with each punch and kick. She paid no mind to the slits forming on her outfit, or the way her hair started to loosen, or how she bit her lip hard enough to draw blood. Nothing could escape the fury and heartbreak she felt in that moment as her room became a shattered mess. It didn’t matter in the long run anyway, the magical space would be returned to normal the moment she regained her senses. Casita didn’t have free reign when it came to their designated areas, which means it was up to them to ensure its upkeep. The chamber correlated with the inhabitant’s overall state of mind and restructured itself depending on that mentality. She started to notice how her room’s composition slowly started to crumble and cave in the more she let out the storm raging inside her. But that was the least of her worries.

All she wanted to do was work out the anger before she returned to her exercise schedule. Hours had passed before she managed to return to a somewhat normal headspace, that was when she reached for her equipment and started to train more than ever before. During this time, she kept reminding herself that she had to get stronger for her Encanto. She would never allow for something like this to happen again. She had to be their strength. She had to be their protector. She had to be their rock.

She had been nearing the age of nine when this happened, much too young to shoulder the burdens of this world. And yet, Luisa took it upon herself to do just that. And it didn’t help that her family would suffer yet another loss, an event that only cemented her mentality. Tío Bruno had disappeared not too long after Mirabel’s failed ceremony. All she knew was that one day her uncle was there, looking worried but otherwise okay, and then he wasn’t. And that’s when the whispers started, rumors that stayed within the confines of Casita. She had overheard the grown-ups talking once, they had mentioned how Bruno must have some kind of terrible vision that involved the fate of their miracle and that’s why he felt the need to disappear. However, no one could specify what kind of details the vision held, but judging by the look on her grandmother’s face, Luisa knew it couldn’t have been good. She wasn’t used to seeing the Madrigal matriarch look so afraid, horrified over the prospect of losing everything.

And that’s what scared Luisa the most. The idea that there was something out there that could possibly hurt them all. She had always been the strong one, but what if that wasn’t enough? What if she couldn’t protect her family? What if everyone suffered because she allowed herself to be weak? And what if they did lose the magic? They relied on her gift, and if that was gone, then who was she?

That’s why she allowed herself to be subjected to the service of others. According to Abuela Alma, the miracle would keep burning as long as the Madrigals kept working and were dedicated to their cause. And that was all Luisa needed to hear for her to keep going. With that in mind, she forced herself to smile and accept all the challenges given to her no matter how small or big they were. However, even with this newfound motivation, it still didn’t erase the pressure Luisa would face the more the years passed. She appreciated her gift, it suited her, but it also suited the people as well. Perhaps a little too much. She worked from the moment the sun graced the sky to the minute the stars accented the night. It was a never ending routine of picking up donkeys, rerouting rivers, moving mountains, and repositioning houses. She may have possessed more endurance compared to the average human being, but it grew tiresome at times. Especially when it seemed as if people were just relying on her to do all of their heavy work without them having to break a sweat. Nowadays the tasks given to her weren’t done out of necessity but rather because they just didn’t feel like doing them. She knew that sounded harsh, especially considering how well the community regarded her relatives and her, but everyone seemed to forget one important thing. She may have been given a magical blessing, but that didn’t make her invincible. She was a human, she was strong but sometimes she cried.

She was so sick of being strong, not just for everyone else but for herself too. For once, she just wanted to shake the crushing weight of expectations and enjoy her life. However, that’s where she went wrong. She had been so concerned about tending to others and hiding her weaknesses, that she never realized who truly needed her strength. And most importantly, she didn’t appreciate the ones who had given her stability in ways she couldn’t deliver. After all this time, she realized that everyone and her had been wrong. She wasn’t the strongest person in the Encanto. That honor was reserved for her hermanita, her Mirabel. 

I think you’re carrying way too much.

Luisa let out a small sigh as those reassuring and gentle words played over and over in her head. Her sister was truly something else. She didn’t think Mirabel knew the impact of her actions and words in that moment. They had saved her, Mirabel had saved her. Her small sister, who used to hang on her muscles and balance herself on her shoulders, had taken her out of the darkness and into the light. When Luisa had confessed her true feelings, instead of calling her ungrateful for the fact that she actually had a gift, unlike her, or accusing her of being weak, Mirabel had hugged her. She embraced all that Luisa was.

I think you’re carrying way too much.

That wasn’t true either. Luisa may have had her fair share of pressures and insecurities, but they were nothing compared to what Mirabel had to live through since the moment that door disappeared. She was already fifteen years old, yet still occupied the Nursery, a dwelling that was supposed to belong to children. And deep down she knew that’s how the world viewed her even after all these years, as a child who needed to stay out of the way in order to let the grown-ups work. Luisa wondered how many people realized the extent of such a sentiment. There was something about Mirabel that she was sure no one else knew. Despite their parents best attempts to convince her of her place in this family, deep down, Mirabel always felt as if she wasn’t worthy of being a Madrigal. Living up to the expectations set by the rest of them was a challenge, one that Mirabel preferred to handle in silence as she stood off to the sides. That’s why she tended to avoid certain situations that required the family’s presence, such as group photos. It wasn’t obvious at first, which is why Luisa couldn’t really blame anyone for not noticing before. At first it had been easy to brush it off as Mirabel not feeling up to it or she was busy with other things, but after a while it just wasn’t a coincidence anymore. And even though she never said anything pertaining to the matter, Luisa knew better than that. As a result, she felt the keen need to make sure her youngest sister was involved as much as possible, such as holding Mirabel in place long enough for her to be a part of a family portrait.

I think you’re carrying way too much.

Luisa didn’t know why the candle didn’t bestow a magical talent onto her, but Mirabel wasn’t the giftless child the better part of the Encanto had deemed her as. She possessed a power unlike any other, one that wasn’t limited to just one role like the rest of them. She had seen what Mirabel was capable of time and time again. She watched as her younger sister offered her services to the village, even if there were a handful of individuals who thought she was wasting her time. She couldn’t move the mountains, but she could help people carry their belongings, make deliveries, and run errands in their name. She couldn’t make flowers grow, but she could help the little seedlings known as children flourish through her entertaining antics.  She couldn’t heal what was broken, but she could stitch together the grandest of masterpieces when it came to all sorts of fabric. She couldn’t control the morning rain or a hurricane, but she could sway Casita’s mannerisms with her actions.

I think you’re carrying way too much.

With all this mind, it was easy to see why some people held her with high regard, like Antonio. Their primo pequeño had practically been stuck to the girl’s hips since the day he could walk. He followed her like a butterfly that is drawn to the beauty and scent of a flower. And truth be told, there were times she found herself envying the little boy, but not for the reasons people might think. She was jealous that the boy was able to see the world through unbiased eyes, and included Mirabel. He saw her for who she truly was, rather than the labels people had placed on her. What Luisa wouldn’t give to have such an ability. She loved her sisters dearly, but even she couldn’t deny that a rift had formed between the three of them that stemmed from such a fact. People saw Isabela as the perfect golden child, therefore she had a ton of responsibilities when it came to accenting their home with her flawlessness. Everyone had defined her as the strong one, so she felt obligated to prove her usefulness and constantly go out of her way assist others with her power. And then there was Mirabel, a child who didn’t seem to fit the Madrigal mold. She hadn’t been given a gift like the rest of her magical family, as a result, people didn’t think much of her compared to the other members. Not even the men who married into the family were regarded with as much questionability as her, only because they weren’t expected to gain a magical talent like she was.

I think you’re carrying way too much.

But Mirabel was special. Luisa was sure that if any other person had been in her position, they would have given up years ago. It would have been understandable for Mirabel to experience some form of resentment, slighted, and envy. However, that was the thing, she didn’t. Mirabel felt nothing but unconditional love for her family and home. Everything she did, she did out of pure selflessness. Such as walking Antonio to his door, despite the conflicting feelings she must have had in that moment. Memories of her failed ceremony must have been playing in her mind with each single step she took while holding his hand. Luisa could honestly say that she wouldn’t have been strong enough to do what Mirabel did. In fact, she knew anyone else could have done what her little sister did that night. And then there was the day that followed. Mirabel had been the first to remind Luisa that it okay to not be fine, it was acceptable to breakdown because no one should have to bear the weight of the world on their shoulders. That was the very first time Luisa had allowed herself to be “weak” and not feel guilty about it. As for Isabela, she had shared what had really happened between Mirabel and her, and it sounds like Mirabel had opened her eyes too. If she had shown Luisa that it alright to accept help and admit pressures, then she reminded Isabela that perfection didn’t equal happiness if it meant sacrificing a bit of your true self in the process. She gave Isabela the chance to express herself a manner she wasn’t allowed to, and was able to create something new.

I think you’re carrying way too much.

She just shook her head as several tears poured down her cheeks. What she wouldn’t give to be able to hold Mirabel again, to share an embrace between all of her siblings like the good old days. Back before they had been forced to grow up so fast, and when they knew that they could rely on each other regardless of the circumstances. Those were the days where Luisa believed that the bond between her relatives was endless. In the end, that wasn’t true either. As the years went by, Mirabel had been able to stay the same, but everyone else began to drift away. She was left alone, and no doubt waited for the day where she could shine the rest of them did. And just when it seemed like she would be given such an opportunity, it had all been taken away from her through unfair accusations.

I hate all of you!

Such words didn’t match her little sister, but Luisa knew she deserved them. She accepted that this moment had been coming for a very long time. Mirabel was truly a Madrigal in every sense of the title. Much like the rest of them, she had learned how to force a smile and bear with it all. She had also mastered how to keep everything inside and not breakdown. She had watched as their family felt obligated to help everyone else but not themselves. However, if there was anything Luisa should have realized it’s that they all had their breaking point. Mirabel was no different.

The expectation of living up to a magical legacy left behind by a sacrifice, the pressure of not being enough regardless of what you did, and the stress of being the one who didn’t seem to fit in an exceptional family was too much for Mirabel Madrigal. All this time, she had been carrying way too much as well. It had all tip, tip, tip ‘til she just went pop. Mirabel had shown the world what she was truly capable of in that confession and Luisa couldn’t blame her for lashing out in such a manner, even if it hurt her. The middle Madrigal sibling would never forgive herself not being strong for her baby sister. She had just stood by while their grandmother threw such inexcusable and wounding blame towards her, that had been the straw to break the camel’s back. And as strange as it sounded, but Luisa was proud of Mirabel for being able to stand up to the matriarch despite everything she had been through. All this time, Mirabel had been the strongest of them all. And it was because of this that she knew the Encanto couldn’t survive without her. And that their familia couldn’t live without her. This had been Mirabel’s role, much like her talent, she was the stitches that kept them together and made their paradise whole.

That’s why she had easily accepted this journey, Luisa refused to give up because Mirabel didn’t. Her sister was an example she wanted to live by, and she wouldn’t rest until the teenager was back at home with them. It didn’t matter if the youngest Madrigal granddaughter hated them or her, she still loved her and wanted to make up for all the wrongs she had been dealt. Their family had lost too much already, Luisa refused to let Mirabel be a part of that. When she came back, they were going to strengthen their community together, in the way they should have been doing all along.

Luisa’s grip on her older sister tightened again before gently moved her hands to her shoulders. Both eyes were dried of tears now as Luisa gazed into a similar shade of brown they had both been blessed with. It was the same color as Mirabel’s.

“Isa, listen, we’ve all done things we’re not proud of. Especially concerning Mirabel.”

The eldest Madrigal granddaughter couldn’t deny that even if she tried, there was no point in even trying at this point. Their family had done enough of hiding behind their facades and making it seem like everything was perfect, it hadn’t gotten them anywhere. For once, they had to be honest with themselves, and with each other.

“I’m supposed to be the strong one, it’s my job to handle the tasks no one else can physically do,” Luisa explained. “But I never realized until now how my strength can’t always protect the people I love, especially when it’s our own family that’s causing the problem.”

Tears welled up in Isabela’s eyes yet again, but she wiped them away before they had a chance to fall. Her sister’s words held no lies, the Madrigals were all so caught up ensuring their home’s miracle, that they failed to remember who should have mattered the most. And it didn’t just apply to Mirabel either, it extended to the rest of them too. Isabela loved her family, but there was no denying that they weren’t exactly the most conscious of individuals. Some of it was their own fault, but other times it was something that should have been obvious. And even if the latter was true, you just couldn’t blame those people for the way they remained oblivious.

For example, Isabela didn’t blame her parents for not knowing her true feelings regarding her status and the actions she committed in order to ensure the family’s happiness rather than her own. She had never given them an inkling that something was wrong, so they could only assume that she was more than content with her life. After all, they couldn’t help but remember Tío Bruno’s vision regarding her all those years ago, it was one of the rare times where it wasn’t a foreboding message. He told her that the life of her dreams would be promised, and someday be hers. He said that her power would grow like the grapes that thrived on the vine. But he never mentioned the specifics of it all, so everyone accepted that the current path she was on was the answer.

There had been other instances of the cracks forming on their family that stemmed from ignorance, unintentional or not. When you’re a Madrigal, you weren’t supposed to have problems and the ones you did experience were nothing compared to what others had to go through. In the end, Isabela and Luisa knew that was one of the main reasons they never openly admitted their issues, because they felt it wouldn’t have been fair to their grandmother. She was a woman she had been shaped by tragedy, someone who had to endure the years of raising three children on her own while caring for a community of people who looked to her for hope. That in itself was nothing but pressure and expectation. Alma had to be both mother and father to her children, she to be the model of perfection and guidance for her people, and she had to be everything in order to prove herself worthy of the blessings given to her. How could their stresses possible amount to what their grandmother went through?

Unlike her, Isabela and Luisa had always known a home filled with loved ones. There were so many adults, so many kids, and so many promises of a future. Alma may have had her children and Casita, but at the end of the day, not even they could possibly understand the true extent of her loss because they weren’t proper witnesses to the event. Then there was the fact that Alma didn’t have the privilege of growing up with the magic that had surrounded them. She had been raised in a normal dwelling and village, where a new life was always a possibility but the danger was not that far away either. They never knew the true extent of the threats that lied beyond their Encanto’s boundaries all thanks to the candle’s magic. Not to mention that they had a sentient residence that was capable of providing for themselves and the people who lived inside their confines. And, even though Alma was the caretaker of their miracle candle, she didn’t actually possess powers of her own, something that remained true before and after the Encanto was formed. She didn’t have an otherworldly talent that could make her life easier like the rest of her lineage. 

Overall, when you take all of this into consideration, it was easy to understand why it didn’t feel fair to complain about their lives. They had been blessed more times than they could count. But maybe it was because of such a fact that they became blind to the reality of their situations, or at least didn’t think it was that big of a deal to call attention to. Maybe that’s why everyone didn’t think too carefully when it came to Mirabel. Even if she didn’t have a gift, she still had a lot of things the matriarch didn’t. And then there was the fact that it’s because Mirabel didn’t acquire a gift that she wasn’t forced to face the same expectations and pressures as the rest of them did. Therefore, in their eyes, she had no reason to be conflicted. However, that’s where they went wrong. Mirabel’s situation may not been like theirs, but that didn’t mean she didn’t have her share of burdens. If only they could have accepted such a fact sooner.

“I think our family’s intentions have always been good, but I also think that we didn’t go about it the right way,” Luisa explained.

“You’re telling me,” Isabela replied. “I was so busy pretending to be someone I wasn’t that I forgot that there were people who loved me for who I was… who I truly am.”

She looked down at her dress, somehow still possessing all the colored hues of pollen even after all that trekking. This was her reminder of Mirabel, of what she had given her.

“Who I want to be,” she added with a sigh.

Isabela’s hands moved to collect Luisa’s from her shoulders, she caressed the gentle yet firm skin as her eyes returned to her younger sister’s face.

“We failed her Luisa, we should have done more for her.”

“I know, and we’ll have to live with that for the rest of our lives. But I also know that we can’t let things end like this. When Abuelo was taken from her, Abuela didn’t have the chance to properly enjoy the next chapter of her life. And when Tío Bruno disappeared, none of us were given the opportunity to remind him how he did a lot of good for our family,” Luisa stated. “It seems like our family is destined to let go of people without having proper closure. But, much like Mirabel, I want to change things.”

All this time she had wanted to be like them, but it should have been the opposite. They should have been like her. 

“She’s a real wonder,” Isabela responded. “I don’t want to lose her too Luisa… especially after all we’ve been through. We just started a new chapter.”

Isabela knew she hadn’t been the greatest of models when it came to sisterhood, but Mirabel had shown her that it wasn’t too late for either of them. And much like the middle Madrigal sister, Isabela refused to stop looking. Luisa nodded, the same could be said for her as well. It was just like she thought, Mirabel’s gift was that she was a catalyst, a reason for change, and a motivation to remember what truly mattered.

“I don’t either. We’ve let history repeat itself too many times already, we can’t let that happen again. I won’t let Mirabel go, especially when we have so much time to catch up on,” she stated.

That’s when she stood up, her hands still being held by Isabela as she did so. Isabela understood the notion as she followed Luisa’s example. They two older sisters now stood tall together as they made yet another promise to one another, just like they did all those years ago in the Nursery.

“We have to do better, not for the Encanto, not for Abuela, but for Mirabel. Gift or no gift, I’m not going to quit until our precious hermana is back in our arms.”

Isabela nodded, her eyes shining with a newfound determination as her heart raced with adrenaline. They to keep moving, they had to find Mirabel because she didn’t want to live a life without her little sister. That was when she let go of Luisa’s hands only to embrace her once more. Mirabel had opened her eyes to a lot of things, including the importance of hugging. She had no idea how calming and relaxing such an action could be, all the while showcasing your love and adoration for the individual. She had decided that she would do more of that, especially when Mirabel returned home. Because everyone was going to have trouble letting the teenager out of her embrace. The sudden action surprised Luisa but she welcomed it as she wrapped her arms around the eldest Madrigal grandchild.

The two sisters just stood there, hugging one another and whispering promises of a reunion with their remaining sibling. Then they got back to work, and continued their journey to find the missing piece that was needed to strengthen their community.

Chapter Text

Long ago, when three babies had just been born, tragedy had consumed a once peaceful land. A dark shadow had spread across the village as roars of danger pierced the air. Flames didn’t discriminate between buildings of business, education, storage, and shelter. Everyone had been forced to flee the only home they had ever known. Many were able to regroup, but others weren’t so fortunate. In the end, they had been united through their hope of finding a new home. Alas, even with this newfound determination, they could not escape the dangers. A man, the one who had sired the three babies, left his wife and children to save their future. And in the end, he was lost.

But in their darkest moment, they were given a miracle. The candle that had been carried by the couple became a magical flame that could never go out. A bright light pushed back the threats and blessed them with a refuge in which to live. A new summit had burst from the grounds to block off the hazards as vast vegetation of both the edible and inedible variety had taken root while rivers were rerouted to surround the freshly defined boundaries. It was a place of wonder.

An Encanto. A place where magic reigned.

The miracle grew and a house came to life to shelter them. It was a structure that flowed with sentience and represented a promise for a better future. And when the three babies from the beginning came of age, the miracle blessed each with a magic gift to help the Encanto. They grew up, as all children do, and some moved onto the next steps in life: courtship and parenthood. And when their children came of age, they acquired magic too. Together, the family’s gifts made their new home a paradise.

Overall, it was something that seemed to fit the beginning of fairytale. And for a long time, it was. At least, in the eyes of the people who had lived in the Encanto their whole lives. It had been nearly fifty years since the settlement had been born and yet no one could have ever foreseen their sanctuary being reduced to such a state. A large crack had pierced through the village, sending its tendrils to the outer limits, the mountains themselves couldn’t withstand such a fierce impact as they split apart for the first time in decades. But it wasn’t that fact that worried the townspeople the most. Rather, it’s where the cracks originated that made them realize that the fairytale had become a nightmare.

The mystical house, one that once had life coursing through its makeup, was now nothing more than a pile of debris and ruins. The people had gathered around the scene, some refusing to believe it was true until they saw it for themselves, while others wished to see if there had been any casualties in the fallout. A few stayed behind to ensure the safety of the villagers, as the rest were drawn to the devastation. Immediately, they were greeted by the sight of the family that had put down roots within the magical compound. Thankfully, they hadn’t been inside the building when the structure became unstable. However, that relief was soon replaced with worry and fear when they realized what else had been lost with the collapse. The magic, the one that had saved them all those years ago and continued to serve them till this very day, was no more.

The fantastical and magical Madrigals, were now lost and ordinary as the rest of the townspeople. Not only that, but soon whispers had spread amongst the crowd concerning the status of the members. Yes, they had been shielded from the brunt of the impact as the house apparently worked to push them away from its decay, but they would soon realize that not everyone was accounted for. And no, it wasn’t the individual they had come to avoid discussing openly. Rather, it was another one of them, the one who didn’t appear to be blessed to the same degree as the rest of the familia. A butterfly of a different color, the one and only Mirabel Madrigal.

She was missing. By all accounts, she had taken off before the destruction, some had claimed they witnessed her sprinting out of the Encanto’s boundaries. It was a testimony that only served to add fuel to the sorrow and horror of her relatives, but it also seemed to motivate them as well. They now knew where to start, and they made quick work of dispersing into groups. Apparently, the Encanto wasn’t their priority any longer as they ignored the calls of the people. Rather, they were now focused on Mirabel, a fact that certainly surprised them as well. It was an action none of them were accustomed to as the Madrigals conversed with one another and made a plan that involved locating their missing member. With that in mind, they watched as the parents of the teenager headed out first, followed by their two remaining children, although their paths started to vary after a while. Meanwhile, the other branch of the Madrigals operated elsewhere. One section contained the last of the triplets with her two sons, as the other group held her spouse and eldest child. It wasn’t long before the villagers heard the missing child’s name being echoed throughout their paradise. And it was this action that cemented the reality of the situation. 

Much like the girl’s ceremony all those years ago, no one could offer any answer to what this meant for their home. Especially when the one they looked to for hope and guidance seemed to have followed in her footsteps as she disappeared the moment the townspeople called for her.

Who was going to strengthen their home now?

No one truly realized just how widespread the Encanto was, how crowded it proved to be with its vast vegetation and landscape. Which was ironic considering the settlement was already nearing its fiftieth year of life. Normally, such features were defined as objects of beauty, portraits within nature itself. But, despite such intricate details and eye captivating enhancement, no one ever dared to venture into the outer limits. For the elders, it was a reminder of a past lost to time. And for the younger generations, there was never a need to discover the world outside of theirs. But if there was one thing everyone could agree on, it’s that their current home was a paradise and more than enough for the people of the past and future. As a result, everyone was content with being the observers from afar rather than up close. Which is what made the current trek all the more difficult. Every single corner seemed to possess such some kind of obstacle, things that were once alluring were now annoyances. How ironic it was that their home’s defenses and marvels were now working against them, preventing them from locating what was lost.

That was yet another thing no one was used to. Whenever anyone needed something, it was always attainable where they were. They had easy access to everything they would ever need to survive such as nourishment, shelter, and assistance. But that was no longer the case for anyone anymore, especially for a particular family.  However, maybe such a fact had never been entirely true to begin with for them. For a clan that supposedly had it all, there seemed to be a multitude of things missing from it. Such as a patriarch, a seer, and a butterfly unlike any other. Such important pieces had been taken for granted, or whose value and worth were never truly understood. You never realize what you have until it’s gone, it was a lesson that had been given before and yet the students couldn’t find themselves learning for whatever reason.

Just then, the sound of loss pierced the air for yet another time.

“Mirabel!”

The voice was a combination of desperation and crushed, because once again, there was no answer of any kind. The individual had belonged to a clan where blessings seemed to come naturally to them. And even though they no longer possessed the magic they had been given, they still prayed for some kind of miracle. A sign to let them know where to go, but instead, they had been greeted with silence. And with that fact, another fracture took shape within the person’s heart. It seemed like the cracks were still affecting her, breaking her very spirit even more than they already had. Such internal wounds were only solidified when the action was repeated by the two bodies following her lead.

“Mirabel!”

Her eldest son exclaimed. He was a boy who had once shared a room with the missing girl, someone who could have easily be mistaken for her twin rather than a cousin during the days of their youth. .

“Mirabel!”

Her youngest son shouted. He was only a child and yet the love he held for the teenager seemed to be eternal, for it never wavered despite the clear differences and gap between the two.

Both boys had been a part of the lost Madrigal’s life during contrasting periods, and yet they were united by their determination to make things right for their family. The woman had had carried and bore them couldn’t have been prouder over such a fact. She only wished they had been joined together for a proper occasion. However, even their efforts didn’t seem to bear any fruit once nothing occurred for the umpteenth time. She let out a small, frustrated sigh as she cradled her braid close to her person, her fingers swept through the auburn strands with great speed. Normally, such a gesture was able to soothe her stresses, albeit with some vexation, but now the only thing it seemed to accomplished was helping her go bald. Not that she cared about such trivial matters at the moment.

“Vamos mijos, we need to keep moving.”

She motioned for her sons to follow her as she carefully paved the way for them to safely cross the obstacles. Her two children simply nodded their heads as they moved into another part of the brush, although she didn’t fail to notice the dejection on their faces as they did so. They were just as disheartened as her to know that they still hadn’t been able to locate any sign of their precious prima. And so they continued their journey, with the two boys now taking the lead. In that moment, she couldn’t help but sympathize with her sons. She may have had her fair share of troubles, but they were nothing compared to theirs. They had been through so much in the span of a day. First, they had lost their home, they were forced to watch as everything they had ever known came crashing down. Second, they were rendered vulnerable as the magic they possessed disappeared with the candle’s flame, Camilo’s gift was his source of entertainment and comfort while Antonio had only known his power for a short period of time. But probably the one loss that stung the most was not their shelter or miracle… but rather an individual.

Their Mirabel, she was gone before she could also bear witness to the events that left them completely broken. In a way, she was grateful for that, because the child had already suffered enough as it is. And she knew that if anyone treasured Casita with all of their heart, it would have been her. Over the years she had noticed the special bond she had formed with their house. Casita tended to all of their needs, but they paid particular attention to Mirabel. They responded to her wishes without a single hesitation, and sometimes without her request. She hadn’t known anyone to possess such a talent since her own mother. She could only imagine how Mirabel would have reacted if she had been there with them. Especially considering what had transpired before then.

I… will never be good enough for you… will I? No matter how hard I try…

Pepa Madrigal’s eyes narrowed as the horrible memory replayed in her head. That moment would be forever burned into her mind. She would never forget how her niece recoiled from her mother’s wrath as she threw baseless allegations against her, her expression becoming more and more devastated with every single word. She had only bore witness to such a look once before, during a time that should have been a proud moment for their family. Pepa never thought she would see such an expression again, let alone from someone who became an unstoppable force such as her sobrina, but there it was. And it add insult injury, she had done nothing to remedy the situation… just like she had so many times before. Then again, that seemed to be the story of her life.

The middle Madrigal triplet felt the beating organ within her chest waver. She finally let go of her braid and placed a hand over her face, her expression was downcast as she contemplated the events that had unfolded. For once, she was grateful that she didn’t have her gift, because right now she didn’t want her sons to see her in such a state. She could only imagine what would be flying over her head at the moment, or how it would have made their mission all the more difficult. Pepa had always done her best to keep it all in, even if it meant sacrificing some of her sanity. But now, there was no point in doing any of that. The weather was no longer reliant on her moods, it wouldn’t be swayed no matter how she felt. And so, she felt herself becoming conflicted without the need to worry about how it would affect those around her all the while contemplating her role in her family’s losses. 

The Madrigals had never been normal, even though it was obvious that they had stemmed from ordinary beginnings at one point. Only one person from their lineage could ever claim to be a part of two worlds rather than just one, it was none other than Alma Madrigal, her madre. She was a woman who had a taste of normalcy before she was given something entirely new. But the same couldn’t be said for the next generation, her siblings and her. For the entirety of their lives, all they had ever known was magic and the blessings that had been bestowed upon their family. However, despite such promise, that didn’t mean they were immune to loss and experiencing tragedy, no matter how she tried to convince herself otherwise.

She supposed such a cycle started with Papá, the hero known as Pedro Madrigal, who had given the Encanto their miracle through his selfless act of love. And while everyone appreciated his sacrifice as well as the end results, especially her Mamá, there was no denying the heartache that came from his absence. There were times where she caught her mother staring at the portrait longingly, it almost looked like she was praying for the image to somehow come to life like the rest of the house. Not to mention the moments where she heard Alma pray to her father before they went to bed, back then her siblings and her preferred to share their mother’s bed rather than stay in the Nursery by themselves. Little events like this gave Pepa a glimpse into the limits of their miracle, because for all of their blessings, that didn’t mean satisfaction was guaranteed.

Such a fact would only be cemented the more the years passed, especially after that night. On the night of October 17^th, her mother bestowed upon them the true tale of their magic and how their Encanto would continue to thrive because of them. Their father was the hero as well as the originator of their miracle, while their mother was the matriarch of their family and the leader of their community. And now they would have the honor of being assigned a role to play in order to help strengthen their home. Alma had gazed upon them with loving pride as they made their way to the doors that had been waiting for them all this time. The swirling surface of gold practically beckoned for them to unleash their potential, especially when the doorknobs had been engraved with a letter that matched their name. J for Julieta, P for Pepa, and B… for Bruno.

The moment her hand graced the handle’s exterior, life was given to the entryway. A yellow framed door now shined with her name as well as her purpose. A sun hovered above her head as thunderstorm clouds adorned the background while a rainbow and normal clouds appeared in front of her. She had been given a gift to manipulate the weather through her emotions. Her siblings’ doors were also etched with their likeness and their magical abilities. That night had been declared as a success for the Encanto, especially for their mother. She claimed that her children had stepped into the light to make them proud.

And Pepa had believed it… at first.

Before her gift ceremony, Pepa had always been an outgoing child whose temperament was as brazen as the wildest of jaguars. She was an untamable force to be reckoned with, so much so that Julieta and Bruno would sometimes tease her about being the “drama queen” of the trio. It was a title she wore like a badge, especially when her composed sister and shy brother couldn’t help but admire that trait of hers. Julieta wished she had the courage to try new things like her and Bruno desired for the ability to speak up in a manner similar to Pepa. But suddenly, what had once been a praiseworthy attribute had now been reduced to a constant need for boundaries. People no longer saw her as Pepa, rather they viewed her as the emotional one, an individual who could either brighten up your day by raising the sun or put a damper on everything by causing a hurricane to unleash its fury.

When the triplets first acquired their gifts, the months that followed were nothing more than a series of experimentation. Julieta studied cooking methods and tested every dish idea she would muster to see if her healing would have the same effect. Bruno focused all of his attention onto figuring out how visions came to him and if he could manipulate them in any way. And then there was her, in the beginning, her gift seemed to be straightforward especially when the emotions matched the weather condition it created. Happiness created sunshine, fear fashioned snow, excitement meant rainbows, sadness made rain, confusion gave birth to fog, stress crafted hurricanes, anxiety generated winds, and anger produced thunderstorms. Granted she also learned that sometimes her emotions weren’t confined to just one type of weather condition, but nevertheless, she had an idea on how her gift worked. However, what she failed to realize during that time was that it wasn’t necessarily the climate reactions she had to concern herself with, but rather how much power she had over them. Therefore, her gift wasn’t as simple as everyone, including her, thought it was. That’s how the once outgoing child had learned words like “control” and “limit.”

She tried so hard to make sure that everything was perfect whenever she was around. If the farmers needed to water their crops, she could make that happen. If the wedding planner wanted nothing but sunshine and rainbows for a particular event, that was something she could accomplish. And if the children had to be kept entertained through flurries of snow, she was the right one for the job. But for all the things she did right, for some reason, everyone had to call attention to the things she did wrong in their eyes. And that included her mother. Every now and again, another mood would get the best of her or she would lose focus on the task and therefore misplace the climate. When events like this happened, there would always be some sort of repercussions, the rain had turned into a flood, the sunshine and rainbows shifted into thunderstorms and winds, and the flurries of snow transformed into an avalanche. She knew it was her fault, but sometimes she wished people would have been more understanding of her dilemma. It wasn’t easy to experience emotions, especially when you had to force yourself to feel a certain way just to end the right outcome. Sometimes she couldn’t help it if she reacted to things so easily or had to switch through moods like the flipping of a book’s page. None of them saw, or chose to see, the cost it came to her. Such a sentiment especially applied to her mother.

Pepa, you have a cloud.

She hated it when her mother said such things, mainly because it felt like she was disappointing her in some way. To Pepa, when Alma delivered that phrase, it was the equivalent of saying that her efforts to keep her moods from getting the best of her weren’t enough. Suddenly, Pepa found herself questioning her gift and if it was truly meant to bring satisfaction to everyone, because it seemed to be doing the opposite. However, despite being the outspoken one of the trio, she just couldn’t find herself admitting this aloud. Especially it could be considered as ungrateful and dishonorable to their family’s legacy. For a long time, Pepa felt so alone in this world… until she remembered two other individuals who had been forced into such a heavy responsibility as well. Her composed sister and shy brother, always seemed to be close by whenever she had her moments of doubt.

She would never forget how Julieta was never afraid to get near her whenever she was experiencing one of her harsher moods, and it was never without some sort of peace offering in the form of one of her favorite delights. During these moments, Julieta would merely give her a warm smile and gently turn her around so she could fix her look, mainly her hair. Whenever she had her breakdowns, it was easy to forget how her appearance would be affected. Whenever Alma attempted to help her regain her composure, it didn’t feel right since the woman went above and beyond to ensure her children were the image of perfection. She would move at a quick pace to tuck in loose strands, unfold her scalloped collar, smoothed out her dress, and fix her headband. By the time she was done, Pepa just didn’t feel like herself. But when Julieta did it, it felt right. Mostly because she took her time to correct the things that mattered rather than force her to be something she wasn’t. The older sister would slowly unravel the strands to release them from their captivity, and when they were free, she would run her fingers along them. With a gentle touch, she worked to untangle the locks and remove any debris that might have gotten stuck in them. Such movements were enough to ease the tension in her body and mind, it was a very relaxing endeavor.

During this time Pepa would feast on the tasty delights made for her as the elder triplet would comb through her hair using her fingers before acquiring an actual brush to assist her with the finishing product. Once she was done tending to the strands, she would style them back to a braid and return the hairband to its usual position. Then she would move onto straightening out the rest of her appearance, without ever going overboard. With her older sister’s help, it wasn’t long before Pepa felt like her usual self as the sun and rainbows danced all around them, especially when Julieta would end the session praising her for doing her best. And in the end, such a sentiment meant more to her than anything in the world. Because that’s all she ever wanted, for someone to acknowledge that she was doing her best.

But Julieta wasn’t the only one to assist Pepa whenever she was in doubt, there was him. Her little brother, her Brunito.

Just the very name alone was enough to give life to a swirl of raging emotions. Now she was more than thankful to not have her gift at the moment, because she could safely think about Bruno without having to worry about the cloudy repercussions. Even now he still managed to find ways to flood her brain. And yet despite that fact, for once in a very long time, she could honestly say that her mind was as clear as day when it came to her missing sibling. Flooded yet clear, only her brother could make her feel a paradox of emotions. Which certainly matched who he was.

Bruno’s approach to her was vastly different compared to Julieta’s. As strange as it sounded, whenever she needed to withdraw from the world, she would go to Bruno’s room. Compared to hers, it was so much quieter. Her magical chambers was an environment where clouds reigned supreme and every corner seemed to possess one type of climate, and above it all was a sun that would slowly shift into the moon as the day passed. Pepa already had the weather consuming her personal space, she didn’t need that to be accented while in her room. And Julieta’s chambers weren’t an option either since everything needed to be organized and structured, especially considering that her room was a combination of a laboratory and fields of produce. So, she took comfort in Bruno’s confines, a place where she didn’t have to worry about making a mess. Besides, it was easier to regain control of herself in a world of silence versus a world of commotion. It was something he didn’t appear to mind as he would always open the door to her regardless of the objects forming over her head.

While in his otherworldly space of sand and stone, she would sit in a corner as she became consumed by an assortment of climate changes. All the while, Bruno took a seat beside her as played with his little rat friends, a habit he acquired since he argued that the small animals were easier to approach and talk to compared to humans. Also, he said that they tended to be better listeners as well. And so, the two siblings would just sit there, quietly stewing over their inner turmoils without saying a word. At first, Pepa couldn’t help but be somewhat annoyed over Bruno’s silence and apparent disinterest in her crises. Unlike Julieta, he never made a move to comfort her or ease her erratic moods. However, the more encounters they had like this, the more it got on Pepa’s nerves. And one day, she confronted him over the matter as she joined him in his chambers for the umpteenth time. She asked why he never said anything, why did he allow her to experience such commotions, and why did he even allow her into his room if he wasn’t going to help her? 

And it was then that she realized the method of his madness. Bruno just took her anger and frustration in stride as he motioned for her to take a seat, and she did, albeit with some annoyance. He sat next to her, all the while his little rat friends climbed in and out of his hood. With that, he cleared his throat and spoke, the first thing he did was thank her for always doing her best concerning the stability of their home. Such a statement certainly surprised Pepa, for she didn’t think he was aware of how she felt when it came to appreciation for her sacrifices and abilities. But it seemed she truly underestimated her hermano, as he continued to speak on the matter. With a small voice, and fiddling thumbs, he said that it wasn’t good to keep things inside and she didn’t have to feel bad about feeling bad. People are like the sky, and the weather was like emotions, they were natural and no matter what happens, they will always pass. You just have to remind yourself that it won’t last forever, sometimes you just have to watch and wait until it was over. Emotions, feelings, moods… whatever you want to call them, are not the problem. The key is to transform that state of mind into something constructive, which is why it was important to just let it all go sometimes. Isn’t that one of the reasons why she felt the need to come into his room? Didn’t she want a place to unleash what she was experiencing without any repercussions? Bruno never said anything during those times not because he was ignoring her, but rather because he thought it was better for her to just let it go. He thought that by being more open with herself, maybe the weather would have more stability, especially when he questioned the moods she typically associated with certain conditions. He asked her why it couldn’t be the opposite at times. Why did it have to rain when she was upset, why did it have to be bright sunshine when she was happy, why did it have to be foggy when was she was confused, and why did there have to be a rainbow every time she was excited?

She had never thought about that before. She always assumed that the candle might have been the one to decide such ties, but at the end of the day, she was the one honing its abilities. Bruno wondered if there was more to their gifts that they originally thought, hidden aspects that could be sharpened and unleashed. Bruno had always been the observer rather than the speaker when it came to everything and everyone. Despite being the shy and quiet member of the trio, he was the first one to ask the questions. Maybe such a trait should have foreshadowed his eventual status in their familia. Nevertheless, Pepa saw her brother in a whole new light that day. And while the trips to his room would slowly come to an end as the years passed, she would never forget how comforted she felt during those moments.

If there was anything Pepa had come to learn about herself thanks to her siblings’ support, it’s that she treasured the people who appreciated her. Which is why she had so many regrets when it came to their relationship. Despite Bruno’s advice about being more open with herself, she just couldn’t find the right words to voice her thoughts, especially when she was afraid it might hurt the ones she loved. Truth of the matter was, Pepa was a very jealous person. Yes, she knew she was a source of envy within her community, for everybody wanted to be a Madrigal and wished they could have such a magic flowing around them. But, she could be just as envious as them, albeit for different reasons.

Mamá, a matriarch who always seemed to have the love and appreciation of people. She didn’t even have a do a thing for everyone to respect her, it just came naturally. Pepa wished she could be on the receiving end of constant admiration and acknowledgment, especially when she worked hard to keep everything under control. Not only that, but it was easy for her mother to be the director of their gifts, she didn’t actually have one. Yes, she had was the holder of the miracle candle, but she didn’t experience the same challenges as those who were gifted. She didn’t have to become an overachiever to the same degree as the others. And for that, Pepa found herself envying her mother’s position. Sometimes she wished she could be the one behind the scenes, without possessing any actual magic and yet still hold a prominent place within their home.

Julieta, the one who had been labeled as the golden child from an early age, the one who could do no wrong and the one who corrected the wrongs. She was the triplet who was very much like their mother in that everything she did was valued and respected. However, unlike Alma, Pepa knew how painstaking it was for Julieta to maintain her position. After all, she had to actually work in order to keep a constant flow of healing sustenance for the community and their household. But even with this being the case, Pepa still would’ve preferred to be in her positon over hers. At least Julieta’s gift was straight forward without any noticeable strings attached, not to mention that it was more useful one compared to the others. Plus, she couldn’t help but resent how composed her older sister tended to be. She had no idea how Julieta was still able to carry on despite the stresses she experienced. She wished she had the ability to express herself as freely as Julieta did. 

Bruno, now it wasn’t necessarily his gift that Pepa desired, but rather his positon. That sounded strange, especially considering his evitable black sheep and family weirdo status, but there was more to it than that. Believe it or not, her familia actually had two golden children, one official and other, unofficial. At least in her eyes, this was true. Julieta was the more obvious choice for the favorite, but such a status also belonged to Bruno as well. Alma loved her daughters, even if she had a contrasting way of showcasing such affection, but the love she had for her son was indescribable. It had taken some time for Pepa to understand why Bruno was held in a different regard compared to Julieta and her, but then she realized that it was no different for them too. All the females in their family were united when it came to Bruno, they felt keenly the need to look after him because he was the baby. He was the youngest child as well as the only son, and an individual who seemed to have inherited all of their late patriarch’s features.

With all of this mind, it was easy to understand why Bruno might have been another jewel in their mother’s eyes. Which might also explain why Bruno seemed to have more leeway when it came to his actions and choices, something she couldn’t help but envy. Unlike Julieta and her, it was easy for Bruno to fade away from the spotlight. He could always retreat back to Casita and have time for himself, even if their mother didn’t entirely approve. However, Alma didn’t seem to put up too much of a fight in the end when it came to Bruno’s isolation. Rather, she only encouraged Julieta and Pepa to compensate for his absence, therefore adding to their daily workload, much to her annoyance.

Although, despite that, Pepa couldn’t say that Bruno’s life was all sunshine and rainbows either. Like she stated earlier, Bruno was a paradox of sorts.

He was given liberties and yet he lacked freedom. He was a favorite but was still regarded as an outcast. He was a protected individual except he ended up being isolated from the world. And this is where the cracks had started to form, not just in their family but in their community too. And what made such a realization all the more heart wrenching was that it seemed to have begun the moment they received their blessings. Because now that their roles had been defined, suddenly their paths began to stray apart from the other. Which meant that the differences between the triplets were accented. If Julieta was the caretaker, and she was the emotional one, then Bruno became the estranged one.

In the beginning, Bruno’s gift proved to be useful since it gave people on idea on what path they should take. Some were able to avoid misfortunes and prospered while others learned that there was no other route to take. Bruno’s troubles started when people started to ask him for visions at nearly every point in the day, with several familiar faces returning within the span of hours. His schedule was very similar to Julieta’s, as in they had to be available at the most random of times. And such a fact caused the two siblings to be exhausted as well as stressed. Pepa’s opinions about the townspeople not caring or ignoring their plights only became cemented as she watched her siblings being run ragged. However, much like with her own troubles, she just couldn’t find the strength needed to speak about the topic. Because it was a Madrigal’s duty to help strengthen their home… even if it came at a cost to them.

But maybe that’s why Bruno had been the next in line to be lost. She watched from the sides as her brother became more and more withdrawn from both the public and her clan. It became obvious early on that the more visions Bruno gave, the more he became considered as a bad omen, someone the community could connect the bad events to. Even without the aid of a potential prophecy, people grew to fear him if he even so much as opened his mouth or moved in their direction. It was almost like he was a villain or something in their eyes, which was ironic considering that the purpose of a vision was to warn an individual of what was to become of them. Was it really Bruno’s fault if the people didn’t heed his cautions or chose to see the event as his creation rather than a situation of their own making. Pepa didn’t have the answer to such a question even after all this time. But it only made Bruno isolate himself even further, stuck in mindset where he believed that because he was Bruno everyone had to assume the worst.

And she was ashamed to admit that she had done nothing to heal such toxicity, only because she had no idea how to help him. People relied on her emotions, not her words after all. That’s how the Madrigal triplets began to drift apart, and yet seemed destined to be united through the unspoken, invisible pain.

Time passed, as it does, and the triplets grew up, like all children do. And while most things remained the same, there were a fair share of changes too. Such as the possibility of romantic pursuits. And that’s where the man known as Félix Castillo entered the scene. She would never forget the day when she laid eyes on the embodiment of sunshine itself. She thought only she was capable of such a task, but there he was doing the exact same thing. And that’s why she had been so drawn to him in the first place. She would watch as he paraded around the Encanto, singing his songs of merriment and dancing wildly to the sound of no music, just to the rhythm of his hands clapping against his legs. All the while he would be preoccupied with tending to his chores.

However, such an interest wasn’t enough for Pepa to engage with him, because she feared that she would be too much to handle. However, fate works in mysterious ways because it wasn’t long before his sunshine greeted her thundering cloud, literally. They had accidently bumped into each other as she was busy tending to the crops of their land and he was delivering supplies to a local business, causing her light drizzle to morph into a dark stormy mass. That is until she caught sight of the individual who had interfered with her chores, and suddenly the thunder had transformed into a bright rainbow mess with a small trickle and fog. Sometimes she really hated her gift, because try as she might, nothing could ever remain a secret. Her emotions were literally written above her head. But much to her surprise, instead of scolding her or finding an excuse to leave, instead, Félix just laughed. The sound was by far the purest thing she had ever heard. He didn’t even care that his person had been drenched because of her actions. He just slapped his knee and said that he felt honored to be included in her efforts to keep their Encanto functioning. He brushed off the excess water before helping her to her feet, then he officially introduced himself to her. Soon he crafted a shower of his own, one that showcased gratitude and admiration for her labors and dispositions. He even joked that he was a fan of her work, both of the sunny and cloudy variety. Needless to say that she had been stunned into silence, but that didn’t seem to matter seeing as how the rainbow above her head only got bigger and brighter with each word he spoke. Soon white puffy clouds joined the fray and the sun’s rays accented such beauty. All in all, whatever Pepa Madrigal didn’t say, her gift managed to speak louder than words. And Félix Castillo didn’t seem to be bothered by it at all.

That was the start of something new, something truly magical. Because one moment soon turned into many, and Pepa found herself being accompanied by him whenever she ventured out into the Encanto. Alma had been against such a choice at first, but it wasn’t long before she realized the affect Felix had on Pepa. The Madrigal matriarch noticed that whenever he was around, Pepa seemed to have better control over her emotions. Nobody had to worry about unforeseen weather conditions anymore. Plus, she quickly realized that Félix had a way with actions and words. Unlike her, he always seemed to know what to do and what to say regardless of the situation. For someone who wasn’t born a Madrigal, he seemed to possess magic of his own, and it was capable of luring just about anyone in. Including her own mother. And that’s how she gained the matriarch’s approval for him to be her suitor. Apparently, she was more than proud of Pepa’s choice, and expressed her gratitude for Félix choosing her daughter as a potential bride. For once in a very long time, everything was perfect.

Until her wedding day. If there hadn’t been a strain between the siblings before, there certainly was one now. But the event had to be brushed under the rug as the times changed once more and their attention shifted onto more important matters, namely the arrival of the future generation. She had her part by giving the world three children: a daughter and two sons.

Her eldest had been born with ravishing dark curls, lovely brown eyes, caramel skin, adorable lips and pronounced ears. She looked like treasure that didn’t belong in this world, she was just so perfect. Even before she learned to speak, Dolores quickly established her tendency to reach out to those around her. She was such an active and lively baby, always trying to catch someone’s attention and say what was on her mind through endless babbles, gurgles, and coos. And when she learned how to form actual words and sentences, it was a whole other story. Her daughter was the best narrator and author when it came to life in the Encanto. When she received her gift of enhanced hearing, it didn’t come as a surprise to Pepa in the slightest.

Then the time came for her second child to be born, only this time the baby was a boy. He was the first male to be born in the next generation. Her Camilo, a child crafted with a golden brown complexion, topped with dark auburn hair, and hazel green eyes. He was just as perfect as his sister, and he was all hers like Dolores was. As a newborn, he seemed to possess a talent for making people laugh. Whether it was unintentionally making a funny face, or blowing bubbles with his saliva, or causing everyone to laugh through the sound of his sweet chuckle, he could brighten up the room. Just like his father, her sunshine. And so, when it came time for Camilo to perform his gift ritual, Pepa was not surprised with the results again.

However, before the birth of her third and final child, she had gained three nieces through her composed sister and accident prone brother-in-law. The first, who had been born as the perfect representation of their family. The second, who was destined to be the rock of their community. And the third… Pepa’s heart ached at the very thought of her youngest sobrina because it seemed that Mirabel had been next in line to be lost.

Three ceremonies had occurred at one time, and four followed years after that, no one ever imagined it ever going wrong. But Mirabel, much like her brother, seemed to go against the status quo. She would never forget the day it happened, where desolation awaited her niece instead of celebration. Everyone had watched in horror and confusion as the door that was supposed to define her role, simply faded away. It was almost as if it had never been there before. Such a heart aching event was enough to send her into an endless storm of harsh thunder and fierce lightening along with unstoppable winds. It soon gave birth to a freezing blanket of snow and ice, which was soon adorned with a fog thick enough to be sliced through. The only time Pepa had reacted similarly was during her wedding day, but even she had to admit that this had been highlighted with profound amplification. It actually scared her. She knew what she was capable of if she didn’t hold back, but this is when realized what would happen if she ever truly let it all go. Her marriage ceremony and Mirabel’s gift ritual marked the reasons why Pepa understood how important it was to have limits, because if she wasn’t careful, the whole world could suffer. And that was the last thing she wanted to do after all the Encanto experienced, her family already had enough challenges, she didn’t need her inability to keep it all together to add onto that. To say that Pepa Madrigal became more guarded after such an event was an understatement.

However, what really hurt the most, was being so close and having so much to say, yet letting those she loved drift away. Bruno, a man she used to hide with whenever they thought there were monsters around the corner, someone she used to embarrass through her showers of affection and praise, and a boy who grew up far too quickly, disappeared without her ever being able to tell him how much she loved him. And Mirabel, a child who had been the definition of innocence and selflessness, an individual she had taught the basics of dance and music, and a person she let go of far too easily, seemed to be destined to leave her behind as well. Although, Pepa couldn’t say that she would have blamed either of them for doing so. After all, she hadn’t exactly being very forthcoming about the affection she had for the two of them. In the beginning of their lives, it had been easy to showcase her love, but then she would get lost in her own world.

With Bruno, the days of butterfly catching, running wild until they feel asleep, and playing in the rain were simpler times. It was before they had been entrusted with such the heavy responsibility of strengthening their home, when they could still be children and enjoy their lives. But suddenly, they found themselves experiencing burdens that no one else could relate to, and they were forbidden from discussing such matters openly in fear of enticing the accusation of being ungrateful. Pepa had to keep her emotions in check and Bruno had to work hard to produce positive outcomes, they each had to make sacrifices to give the people what they wanted, but they lost their way to each other in the process of doing so. Pepa’s thoughts and actions became consumed with showcasing the right moods to suit the community’s needs, as well as ensuring that she was living up to her mother’s expectations.

And then there was Mirabel, the little girl she couldn’t help but showcase sunshine and rainbows to whenever she reached out to her. The precious memories of watching Mirabel coo at the sight of butterflies, the moments where she drew a picture for someone in their family, and the interest she had for handmade items, all seemed to have become a blur the moment her door disappeared. Earlier in the day, she had taken the girl into her arms and twirled her around as they paraded throughout the Encanto. And after that, things were never really the same, even if Pepa had tried her hardest to be with Mirabel in the beginning. She would never forget the day where Félix and her summoned the courage to approach her during the period she refused to leave the Nursery.

It had taken some time, but eventually they came up with an idea to help Mirabel regain the pep in her step. The yellow and gold couple decided to surprise their sobrina by teaching her the basics of their passions: music and dancing. The child had been shy at first, hesitant to move from her designated room, but the husband and wife duo took her by the hand and helped her find the rhythm of their culture. Step by step, Mirabel gained more stability and confidence as she followed their leads. After the first couple of sessions, the child seemed to have returned to the Mirabel they all knew and loved. However, if there’s one thing her time with Bruno taught Pepa, it’s not the good times couldn’t last forever. Especially when she got lost in another world. Now she had other concerns to cloud her mind other than playing her role for the Encanto. She also had to secure Félix’s place amongst their community, soothe Dolores’s aches caused by overstimulation, reassure Camilo that people liked him just as much as they liked the people he could turn into, and then there was the matter of her remaining child.

Her Toñito had been born five years after Mirabel’s failed gift ceremony. Her esposo and her were more than delighted with the news, for they knew that this would be their final child. After all, they weren’t getting any younger, and her previous pregnancies had their fair share of hardships that were only highlighted by her empathic gift. He was such a precious sight to behold when he arrived into the world. Beautiful dark skin, alluring curly black hair, sweet brown eyes, and the softest pair of cheeks. Much like his siblings, he didn’t seem to belong in this world, he was just too perfect. Even from a young age he seemed to possess a talent of enchanting those around him, one couldn’t help but fall victim to his charms. And it was something that didn’t just pertain to people, but animals as well. Pepa couldn’t count the times they had to usher some form of wildlife away from her baby, they were quite drawn to him. However, his conception and birth proved to be a conflicting matter. Make no mistake, everyone had been elated with the news but there was also lingering doubt and tension in the air, especially from the community and her mamá. No words needed to be said for them to understand why that was the case. Everyone wondered whether or not this new child would continue where his predecessor left off or where they destined for the same greatness as those who came before her.

She could only imagine how delighted everyone was when her baby boy had acquired a magical ability and room. Even she couldn’t help but bask in the joy of her newly gifted child, she was more than proud of him for reaching this significant milestone. Such an event represented the continuation of an important chapter in the Encanto’s history, and it also accented Mirabel’s uncertain future and purpose.

She shook her head, she was disgusted with herself for even allowing such thoughts to be voiced. Although she couldn’t deny that some part of her was worried about her child’s future for the very same reasons, especially when she knew how Mirabel was regarded compared to the rest of the family. And admitting to such a fact indicated that Pepa must have had some idea of what Mirabel was experiencing during her years of living in the Encanto. It also meant that she had done nothing to lessen the blow of such criticisms and doubts when it came to her niece.

Tears pooled out of her eyes at the very thought of it all. In the end, she had not only failed one family member, but two. The Madrigals were supposed to be selfless people who worked hard to keep their miracle burning, and yet, Pepa could honestly say that they were the most ignorant and insensitive of them all. She should have tried harder, not for the Encanto, not for her mother, but for Bruno and Mirabel. She had taken such treasures for granted time and time again. They had only wanted to help their home and prove their worth as members of a fantastical and magical family. And all they received in return were scraps and blame, something she played a role in.

Pepa had faulted Bruno for the events that transpired on the day of her wedding, all because he said one little comment pertaining to the weather. And who was the living embodiment of climate, her. So of course she had to be the one who ended up bringing Bruno’s remark to life. It had been easy to condemn Bruno, especially since everyone knew how sensitive she was. But was it really justified? No, it wasn’t, even if Pepa tried to hide such a fact through the idea that it was better to not talk about Bruno after he disappeared. In reality, she didn’t want to discuss her brother because she was full of regret, and maybe a little angry as well. Regret, because she never got the chance to mend what was broken between the two of them. And angry, because she felt as if he had left her and their family behind. Despite what he may have believed, they needed him. She needed him. And she would never forgive herself for pushing him away.

But that didn’t stop Pepa from hurting Mirabel in a similar way, only it was through avoidance and blame. Bruno had disappeared after Mirabel’s failed gift ceremony, and while they didn’t have any concrete proof that it was related to the matter, the rumors had tainted her mind. Deep down, she believed that Bruno must have had a vision that pertained to their miracle and Mirabel, so he had no choice but to leave the way he did. She knew it was unfair to blame a five year old child for the choices of an adult, but Pepa had never been the rational one. And while she never abused or mistreated her niece, she couldn’t say that they were close either, not as close as they used to be. Although it wasn’t just the matter of the questionable future Mirabel had, it was also because every time she saw the child, she couldn’t help but see Bruno too. Such a sight only reminded her of her failures as well as the broken status of their family. And that’s why she thought it would have been better for her to stay to the side when it came to Mirabel’s life, even if they still had a handful of interactions.

Despite the obvious differences between the uncle and niece, they were more alike than people gave them credit. For one thing, they had been the first to go against the status quo of their Encanto. They saw possibilities outside of the routines they forced themselves in. And they always tried their best for the people around them, especially when they wanted nothing more than to make their family proud. This included offering their assistance to those who had tried to ignore their pressures rather than accepting them. If anything, Bruno and Mirabel were reminders that it was okay to be human. They demonstrated how perfection wasn’t an ideal image to uphold if it meant sacrificing a bit of your true self in the process. Because it’s the blemishes that make you flawless and shine in the way that mattered. And the two had been the only ones to follow in her father’s footsteps, they were all lost.

That’s what frightened Pepa the most. Bruno had been gone for ten years now. How long would it be before Mirabel was found? She shuddered at the very thought of it all. The not knowing is what hurt the most. Even if Bruno was already an adult, she still worried for him in the manner she worried about Mirabel. Her sobrina was only a child, she still had her whole life to look forward to. And Pepa hoped that she could be a part of it now that she knew better. The middle Madrigal triplet was ready to take accountability for her actions that drove her brother and niece away. Pepa wouldn’t stop until she had the chance to make things right. She wanted to show Mirabel that they may not be the perfect family she deserved, they loved her and wanted her back. Pepa refused to lose any more people she adored, she couldn’t let history repeat itself any more than it already had. The cycle had to end.

“We’re going to find you Mirabel,” she whispered. “And we’re going to strengthen our home together in the way we should have been doing all along.”

This couldn’t be how their story ended. And with that in mind, Pepa called out for her missing niece once again. All the while, she could hear the familiar voices of her family following her example. Mirabel’s name filled the air as everyone worked hard to bring their butterfly home. For once in a very long time, the Madrigal clan had been united. And while it was through unspoken, invisible pain once more, there was also a determination unlike any other. A motivation that had been created because of Mirabel. Even though, she had no right to, Pepa was proud of her niece. For it seemed that she held a power unlike any other. After all this time, she understood why Mirabel had been born into a family like theirs. She knew who she was. She was the link that tied them all together, and she would be the one to save them in their moment of darkness.

She was brought back to reality when her oldest son warned her of the next obstacle, it appeared to be a small ditch. Without a word needing to be said, the eldest grandson took the lead as he carefully stepped across the trench. Camilo Madrigal had to admit, he wasn’t used to being the leader, but he didn’t want his mother and younger sibling to take such risks. Besides, they weren’t in their element, and if anyone was used to adapting, it was him. Or at least, that’s how he saw it.

Once he was safely on the other side, he motioned for Pepa to hand Antonio over to him. Judging by the way the five year old’s pushed his lips forward, it looked like he was ready to protest the course of action, but held his tongue as he was passed between his elders. No doubt such a subtle reaction stemmed from him thinking that he was too big to be carried like a baby. Camilo knew he would be fussing over such a fact if he were in Antonio’s shoes. However, if there’s one thing every Madrigal knows, it’s how to keep it all in for the sake of their endeavors. The sooner a member learned that the better, although looking back on it now, maybe that wasn’t a healthy mindset to have. And the eldest Madrigal grandson couldn’t help but question whether or not such a way of life had contributed to their downfall.

Whatever the case, despite Antonio’s determination to show that he was capable of anything, at the end of the day he was still just a child. There was only so much he could do, and the former shapeshifter sympathized with the one time animal speaker. Even if they didn’t have their powers anymore, some of them were still just as skilled when it came to uncertain circumstances such as these.

For instance, Luisa’s gift hadn’t altered her body when she received it, but it did help her acquire her physique. She had been given the chance to exercise and train with nonconventional equipment such as mountains and buildings, after a while, her frame started to reflect such hard work. As a result, she was capable of administrating some percentage of the heavy lifting, her power only helped her handle the excess. And despite losing such an advantage, there was no denying that Luisa was still the strongest of them all. Camilo had hoped that if anyone could deal with the Encanto’s harshest challenges, it would have been her. And then there was his remaining prima, Isabela. While raw power wasn’t her known quality, she proved to be one of the more nimble and graceful members of their family. Camilo had always joked that such traits suited a perfect princess, much to her annoyance, and she owed it all to her gift. The eldest Madrigal granddaughter tended to rely on her vines for transportation and grand entrances, but his sister had mentioned one time that their cousin also used such structures to increase her flexibility. And he couldn’t deny that such skills would have been useful when it came to their mission. Without a doubt Isabela was using her body’s agility to search high and low places with relative ease compared to their other relatives.

The point being, his primas gained essential qualities through years of practice, therefore if anyone would have had better luck trudging through this giant obstacle course, it would have been people like them. Antonio had only acquired his gift and seemed to have lost it as easily as he gained it, and even then, he didn’t truly understand how conversing with animals would have helped Antonio develop the skills necessary for this mission. Although he certainly wasn’t alone when it came to such a fact. Tía Julieta’s gift had been useful, especially when delicious food was involved, but it was more reactive rather than proactive. As a result, other than learning the specialties of herbs and spices, she couldn’t properly contribute to a cause like this. And then there was his mother and sister, they fell into the same category as his aunt. His mother’s gift hadn’t taught her any actual survival skills other than how to keep her moods under control, as for Dolores, she mentioned that she learned body language through her gift, but that certainly couldn’t assist them at the moment. Overall, compared to the group that was made up of his two eldest primas, the others were at a disadvantage.

However, out all everyone, he wished his sister still had her magical ability. Yes, Luisa and Isabela may have been able to dispel most the hurdles in their path, but at least Dolores would have been able to give everyone an idea on where Mirabel went. In fact, they probably would have been able to stay together, which is something Camilo would have appreciated at this point. He loved his mother and brother, but being so far away from home and the rest of their family just didn’t feel right. Even when they were separated in the Encanto on account of their duties, at least they knew that the other was around the corner. He wasn’t used to their family being divided in such a manner, which is ironic considering that maybe it had been that way for a while now, and it just took this event to finally open their eyes to the truth.

His thoughts were interrupted as he gently set Antonio beside him, before turning his attention back to their madre. He held out his hands to her, which she accepted as she cautiously crossed the trench. Camilo made sure Pepa didn’t lose her footing once she was on their side. And so, with hard work and dedication, the three searchers had crossed yet another hurdle. However, his sense of accomplishment was soon shadowed with helplessness as he scanned the new area, but no sign of Mirabel could be detected. He let out a sigh as he forced himself to call for her again, with his mother and brother following his lead.

However, his efforts were soon stalled once his face was greeted by branch full of leaves. He had only taken his eyes off the path in front of him for a second and this was the result. This was another thing Camilo wasn’t used to, he had always been more elegant and poised, something he learned thanks to his gift. When you could turn into anyone, you couldn’t help but consider it to be no different than putting on a costume and giving the world a performance. When you put on a mask, you become that individual and learn how to be them in every sense of the word, either it was through actions or speech. As a result, he possessed a unique flair when it came and agility and adaptability. Tasks were accomplished with relative proficiency, and barriers could be easily dodged, all thanks to a little shapeshifting.

But now that he was powerless, he felt like he was walking in his Tío Agustín’s shoes. He let out an irritated grunt as he pushed the obstacle away. In response, Pepa stop her calls and attempted to tend to his injuries, but he assured her that the only thing that was damaged was his pride. Besides, it didn’t feel right for his mother to lose her focus on the goal, especially when his wounds were nothing compared to what others were going through at the moment.

“But that’s the third time it’s happened mijo.”

“Three leafy faces, several decorations from trip to a mud hole, two sore toes after a run in with some boulders, and one pair of soaked sandals thanks to a puddle,” he remarked with his trademark grin and shrug. “But hey, who’s keeping track at this point?”

Even after all that happened, it was in his nature to try and lighten the mood. But Pepa didn’t seem to share his enthusiasm as she shook her head while wiping the debris away from his hair.

“Mamá, por favor, tenemos que seguir adelante.”

But his mother didn’t let up, she continued to remove the stains and mend the tangled strands of hair.

“Camilo, while I admire your devotion, that doesn’t mean it’s okay to ignore the obvious,” she argued as a small sigh escaped her lips. “I think our family has done enough of that already.”

Such a simple statement had the power to break Camilo’s heart all over again. And it also seemed to affect Antonio as well, the child stopped dead in his tracks as he turned to face his mother and older brother. Although Camilo couldn’t exactly describe the expression that adorned his face at the moment. It looked like a mixture of hurt, shock, and confusion. Maybe also a small hint of anger, which certainly surprised the former shapeshifter. But he didn’t have time to dwell on it for long as he realized what such a statement entailed. It seems like he wasn’t the only doing a lot of thinking when it came to their family’s dynamics and future.

However, his train of thought was soon interrupted as he felt his mother’s fingers glide along his brown curls before making their way to his cheek. Her gentle touch traced the outlines of the small cuts now adorning his face as well as wipe away whatever dirt that might have collected there. Despite no longer having a cloud hovering over her person in times of peril, Camilo could still see the storm raging within her green eyes. And yet despite that fact, his mother still forced herself to put a mask on for her boys. A watery smile broke across her face as she continued to dote on her child, it was a sight that only served to add to Camilo’s heartbreak. Even when she no longer had to worry about her empathic weather ability, his mother was still forcing herself to push through. In response, he gently took hand of her hands and attempted to give her his best reassuring grin.

“It’s okay Mami, deep breath in, deep breath out.”

Pepa’s eyes widen at the sound of that familiar affirmation, and her uncertain expression suddenly became filled with deep love and affection as tears started to well up in her eyes. Her hands rotated so that her grip on Camilo’s palms became stronger.

“I’m so blessed to have a nice boy like you for a son, mi pequeño camaleón."

And that’s all it took for Camilo’s heart to shatter completely… because long ago, someone else used to hold him with such high regard.

Camilo Madrigal was born as the first grandson in a household where magic and blessings reigned supreme. The moment he could comprehend the world around him, he understood that every member served a purpose, whether they married a representative or shared blood from a branch. Those who joined the family through courtship were expected to offer never ending support to their spouse and share the responsibility of creating the next generation. And those who were born to those couples were supposed to make the family perfect through the gifts they were to receive during their fifth year of life. However, regardless of how the individual came into the clan, they were all united in their goal to help strengthen their home.

He thought he understood what his role was the day it came time for him to join the constellation known as the Madrigals. However, his gift ceremony proved to be a bittersweet reminder for him now, especially when he recalled the event that followed and the person it was tied to. A girl with curly cocoa hair, coffee tinted eyes covered with lime green framed glasses, and brown skin adorned with freckles that almost matched his own. The child had been his roommate in the chambers known as the Nursery for nearly five years, a trait he never thought he would have to share with his little brother. 

Then again, he never thought that he would have to share her period. Because he couldn’t help but recall a time where he had been her favorite. But that didn’t seem to the case anymore, and he knew full well when that occurred. It was the day he underwent an important metamorphosis, like how a small caterpillar transforms into magnificent butterfly. Only his cocoon was the door that had been awaiting him since the moment of his conception. He had always been captivated by the enticing light, every time he roamed the halls of Casita, it felt like it was calling out to him.

On December 28^th, his grandmother had joined him in the Nursery, all the while holding the candle that would shape his destiny. The woman and him sat on what would be his former bed, and she shared the full story of their miracle to him. He knew the basis of the tale, but this was a special moment reserved for the matriarch and the child who had turned five. She told him a story of loss and hope, one where a sacrifice was given in exchange for a promise for tomorrow. Throughout the whole interaction, Camilo couldn’t help but notice the way his grandmother spoke about his late grandfather, it reminded him of the everlasting love he bore witness to with his padres and tíos. And it had been that endless affection that had granted his family their magic and blessings, it was the reason why he would be able to help strengthen their home. Love seemed to be a power of its own, he wondered if anyone else had realized that when they had been told the story. 

With that moment being shared between grandmother and grandson, it was time to make his family proud and bring honor to his grandfather’s legacy. Finally, he would become the star he was born to be. He remembered being greeted by the sight of his family, each member took the time to express their delight for the occasion before they left to take their positions. He was now standing alone behind curtains made of flowers as he waited for his moment to shine. He heard his grandmother deliver a speech that pertained to how they were saved from their darkest moment thanks to a candle that had blessed them with a miracle. And the greatest honor of their family was to use their blessing to serve the community given to them. She ended the declaration by stating that their home came together once more to celebrate the next member stepping into the light to make them proud. 

Suddenly the curtains had been drawn to reveal his presence, and he couldn’t help but bask in the attention of the crowd as their eyes wandered to him. A wave of cheers erupted from both the people and his family as they gazed upon another future server of the Encanto. He smiled as he observed the anticipation and adoration on their faces. It was all so perfect, it certainly matched a child with the Madrigal name. His family had always said that he was born to perform, something that had been noticed when he was still an infant. His padres had shared stories of how he made people laugh through his actions, and how he seemed to be nourished by recognition. They proclaimed that their boy was made to be in the center of the spotlight. Which was the position he found himself in as he carefully, yet boldly, made his way towards his destiny. The only time his eyes turned away from his door was when he remembered that another shared the same golden blank appearance as his own, just waiting for his successor to take her place amongst a family of stars. And he knew that the person was currently waiting in the crowd, beside her parents and sisters, no doubt still silently applauding him regardless of what he did. That was Mirabel for you, a constant supporter no matter what the individual did.

He couldn’t deny that a part of him would miss those days. He was so used to being greeted by a smile whenever he entered the Nursery’s confines, or whenever she returned from whatever activity called for her attention. He treasured the moments where they would steal a plate of arepas con queso from the kitchen just so they could satisfy their cravings, and somehow Camilo would always be the one who ended up getting the last piece, despite knowing that the dish was Mirabel’s favorite just as much as it was his. The eldest Madrigal grandson would never forget the times where Mirabel and him would have a competition concerning their artistic abilities, with Mirabel always being the victor thanks to the judges, his primas and hermana, preferring her skills over his. Even he couldn’t deny that his primita was quite talented when it came to arts and crafts, so much so that she was the one he came to whenever he was in need of a commission. But if there was one pass time he would miss most of all, it would be the nights where he just couldn’t sleep for whatever reason, be it nightmares or stubbornness, and Mirabel would have to be the one to lull him into a restful slumber. During those times, she would crawl into his bed and prepare herself to tell the story of a lifetime. Despite being so young, the little girl was a master of words. She would spin tales of a world filled with magic and endless possibilities, one where were heroes roamed, and evil could never taint. As long as the saviors had each other, then the light would burn brightly. Every now and again, she would even add a song or two just for the sake of accenting the purpose of her actions. It would only be a matter of minutes before Camilo found his eyelids growing heavy, and he allowed the tendrils of rest to take him. 

Yes, he knew that whatever gift and room awaited him would certainly be out of this world, but magic wasn’t capable of replacing special moments like that. Especially when it was a tradition for the rooms to belong solely to the owner, therefore, no one was permitted to take up residence in there. Abuela Alma claimed that such a rule would help them focus on training their abilities and using them to the fullest. The only exception would be if the individual had a spouse or gave birth to a baby or if the room was needed for a celebration. Without a doubt, Camilo would miss the world’s best roommate. Although he also knew that her gift ceremony would soon follow, so she won’t have to be alone in the Nursery forever, rather, she would be a star like him and have her own space dedicated to such a fact.

But before they could get to that moment, he had to obtain his birthright. And so, he stood before his grandmother and listened to the promise she passed down to her descendants as she held the miracle candle out to him. With that, he touched the magical object’s surface, accepted the pledge, and made his way to the enchanted doorknob craved with the first letter of his name. And as soon as his hand greeted the handle, a bright light emitted from the door as a warmth unlike any other took hold of his body, he could hear a series of whispers and awed gasps from the crowd as the miracle granted him his blessing. Soon his name became etched into the magical wood as his image appeared alongside two others. And sitting before his likeness was a row of seats that seemed to belong to a theatre. At first, it had taken him a minute to understand what the door foretold concerning his ability, but eventually he was able to understand what it was the moment his body morphed into another. He would never forget the looks on the people’s faces the moment he disappeared but reappeared in the form of his primita.

That’s right, Camilo’s first shapeshift was none other than Mirabel. Such a fact should have cemented the bond they had, but instead, it would only serve to remind them both of the distance that would soon be placed between them. 

With his magical ability now defined, it was time for the next step. Overcome with excitement and joy, he took hold of the handle once more and allowed his body to move forward. Immediately, his new room greeted him like an old friend. The whole world seemed to undergo the same metamorphosis as him as specks of golden light started to take the shape of an endless stage of performance. Multiple balconies surrounded him, with every corner decorated with yellow hued chameleon motifs. Rows and rows of seats stood before him, each turned to face him as if they had been awaiting his arrival. And they responded to his every movement as he glided through the aisles. A sea of curtains decorated every edge, along with a series of mirrors, each a different size and proportion. His form seemed to move along the reflective surfaces with different images being showcased. And in the back of such majesty was a decent sized studio room with a bed, cabinets, and even more mirrors. This was his room, his sanctuary! It was everything he ever wanted and more.

It was perfect, it was special… just like him. His Abuela Alma had declared such a sentiment as she took his face into her palms and showered him with endless praise, before it was time for the family to mark the moment with a picture. At the time, it all seemed like a wonderful dream. Now it was time for him to practice his showmanship.

Believe it or not, a newly gifted Madrigal child didn’t start to serve the community automatically. Through trial and error, they had to discover what kind of role they would acquire. Time needed to be given for them to master their powers, especially when mistakes couldn’t be made. And so, in the comfort of his sanctuary, he learned how to put on a mark. Something he realized early on was that he could take the forms of anyone as long as he thought about them, that’s why he had transformed into Mirabel the night of his ceremony. He found that the more he focused and concentrated on the individual’s image, the better he got at shifting in and out of shapes. At first, the ability did take a lot out of him, but it soon became a regular pastime once he realized what else he could do with his gift.

He could make people smile. And he learned such a fact from none other than Mirabel during the time they waited for her ceremony.

Despite the rules concerning the usage of the rooms, Camilo was never one to listen entirely, especially when the purpose of a theater was to have an audience. Mirabel had been his primary guest as he watched him put on many performances. His image would morph and change every second his muse would pop into his head, with some mixed results. At first, he hated that he wasn’t able to get it right, especially when he practiced time and time again. However, instead of being greeted with negatively over such a fact, he was applauded. His attention was directed towards Mirabel now, and what he saw made a wave of warmth spread over him like a blanket. The only time he had ever felt such way was when he took hold of his destiny. A wide smile adorned Mirabel’s face as a series of giggles escaped her lips, all the while she gave him a grand standing ovation.

She didn’t care if he made a mistake, she just smiled and laughed. When she was done with her actions, the look of adoration hadn’t wavered in the slightest as she faced him. His primita praised him for his performances, and declared that smiling and laughing at such “imperfections” can brighten up anyone’s day. It certainly did for her. Such a proclamation had caught him by surprise, and peaked his curiosity. And so, he made his way to Mirabel and questioned why she would say that, especially when the Madrigals were supposed to be perfect in everything that they do. Needless to say that he was more than shocked with her answer.

Because that’s the Camilo she knew and loved. This new Camilo may have been able to change into anyone he wanted, but she knew who he truly was at the end of the day. She asked if he remembered all those days they spent together in the Nursery, of course he did. He would never forget how important her presence was to him, but apparently, his presence was just as important to her as well. And he didn’t realize it until she spoke about the impact he had left on her. Mirabel recalled the moments where he would make funny faces while they sat across from one another at the dinner table, much to Abuela Alma’s displeasure, although even she seemed to find the interactions amusing. Or the days where he would try to imitate someone’s voice in an attempt to trick one of their relatives, she would never forget the times he managed to fool Tío Bruno into thinking Pepa was calling for him. And then there were the times where the two children would just stay in the Nursery and act out scenes from their favorite stories, much to the entertainment of the people who wandered into the room out of curiosity.

The Camilo Madrigal she knew was fearless, someone who could turn any moment into a bright light through humor and entertainment. While Mirabel was in awe over his gift, she said that she liked the real Camilo and it was through those mistakes that she remembered who he truly was. And then she listed all the examples that made him who he was.

Your jokes.

She laughed, the sound was one of the purest things in this world.

Your appetite.

She playfully poked his stomach, which made him squeal.

You get it from our uncle, he’s a funny type.

Tío Bruno was known for hoarding the arepas con queso just like them, especially when his rat friends gathered together.

You’re a nice boy who makes people smile.

Her fingers drew a smile across her face.

A nice boy who takes care of our familia.

She hugged herself, before gently taking his face into the palms of her hands.

A nice boy who can’t accept compliments.

She learned such a word from the grown-ups, and was able to apply it to him.

This was who Camilo Madrigal was, and she loved him because of it. He could be anyone in the world, but she would always prefer him. Looking back on it now, perhaps such a sentiment laid the foundation for the insecurities that would haunt him in the future, and should have given him a glimpse into what kind of person Mirabel would grow up to be. Despite sharing the Nursery for some time, and living in the same household for years, Camilo never truly understood the role Mirabel possessed when it came to their Encanto. Even though he knew she was a very talented person, a Madrigal could only obtain one role. And he had no idea how she would serve to strengthen their home, especially when she would be the only one whose destiny wouldn’t be foretold in a golden slate.

That day had been full of promise and wonder, the festive atmosphere was contagious as the Madrigal household prepared for the night’s grand reveal. On the day of a gift ceremony, it wasn’t just Casita that needed to be tended to, the community also needed to look its best to mark such an occasion. Which why the Madrigals still went about their usual tasks, just with added flair and for a different reason.

Tía Julieta had to ensure that the community was in perfect health in order for everyone to be in attendance, while Tío Agustín filled the air with his assortment of tunes.

Isabela garnished the whole town and Casita with her floral arrangements as Luisa lifted materials for the party and removed obstacles that would have hindered the ceremony.

Mamá worked hard to keep the weather in check and Papá would hype up the crowds by asking them to follow his dancing lead.

Dolores made sure that everyone had a line of communication regardless of the distance.

And Tío Bruno… well… his role wasn’t exactly defined when it came to the gift ceremonies, especially when people tended to stray away from him when it came to his visions. But Camilo couldn’t deny that it was entertaining to see him converse with his rat friends for the occasion, he was clearly trying to explain what the event would entail. 

As for him, even with his part still in the process of being defined, Camilo proved to be a jack of all trades as his gift allowed for him to complete all types of tasks. And it was during this time that he heard the whispers of the people. Dolores may have been the community’s ears but Camilo was could be just as knowledgeable as her when it came to gossip and talk, especially when it was so easy for him to blend into the village. People tended to forget that he wasn’t the individual they thought he was, so they couldn’t help but express themselves freely.

Without a doubt, everyone was more than eager to discover what kind of gift awaited the youngest Madrigal granddaughter. He could hear the anticipation in their voices as they carried such conversations. He also took note of how the people were more than pleased to celebrate another ceremony so soon after the last one, which meant they would bask in the glow of another festive party and enjoy the atmosphere of a new room. Even he couldn’t deny how wonderful it all was, when the Madrigals celebrated an occasion, they went through the roof and to the skies. However, such talks would reveal another side to the Encanto, one that Camilo wouldn’t truly comprehend until he was much older. That newfound aspect would only be cemented when the time came for Mirabel to perform her gift ceremony. Camilo couldn’t help but let out a sigh as he recalled what happened that day, how a moment of pride and joy had shifted into something entirely new. And it was then that he realized how he wasn’t the only one capable of change, because nothing was ever the same after that event… it was the moment where the light left Mirabel’s door.

After that, he became lost in a world of confusion and uncertainty as he was forced to bear witness to a whole new part of something else, and it was none other than his own familia. First, Mirabel’s door disappeared, compelling her to retreat into the confines of the Nursery. She hadn’t made any attempt to leave the little green space, something that had hurt the former shapeshifter to no end. It wasn’t supposed to turn out like this, she was destined to leave the Nursery just like all of them. But that hadn’t happened, so what did that mean for his primita? His favorite person was suffering and he was helpless to do anything about that… because at the end of the day, no matter how different he was compared other children, he still just a child.

Just like how Antonio was right now.

Then, to make matters all the more puzzling, Tío Bruno just left. He didn’t even leave any clues behind as he did so, no one could find the future seer. Despite his role in adding to gossip concerning the hooded figure and rat lover, Camilo could recall some of the times they shared together as such how Mirabel and him would climb along his ruana and cling to the fabric as he did his best to go along his day, or the moments where Bruno would try to teach him how to communicate with the rats, or the days when he used to get caught up in Camilo’s fútbol games. Without a doubt his uncle was a very odd person, especially when it came to his personality and habits, but Camilo couldn’t deny the bond they once had. And even if Bruno had missed a large portion of his life, a part of Camilo yearned to see him again, because he knew his family would never be truly whole without him.

Just like how they wouldn’t be complete without Mirabel.

Tía Julieta was still her warm and nurturing self, but there seemed to be a hint of something else now. As a child, Camilo couldn’t properly define it but he could most certainly taste it. Whatever food she produced just didn’t appeal to him, the flavors became loss and wavered quickly. Tío Agustín didn’t seem to possess the same clumsy mannerisms he did before. Rather, he moved with newfound concentration he didn’t think was possible. All was quiet during this time, and Camilo found himself missing his uncle’s ear for music and his skills went it came to crafting melodies on the piano.  

Isabela’s flowers didn’t bloom as brightly as they did before, and the ones she made were often associated with loss and defeat. Luisa seemed to exercise more, always pushing herself to the limit until she could potentially collapse. Isabela couldn’t find the right words to say, so she gave life to them instead. Luisa was afraid of something even worse happening to their family, so she trained as hard as she could to defend them from the potential dangers.

A cloud seemed to be forever adorned over her head as winds and rain accented it. Enhanced hearing might have been his sister’s talent, but he still hear Mamá constantly chanting her mantra from his room. Not to mention that he could see the sorrow in his her eyes as she whenever she wandered past Bruno’s now dull door, along with the Nursery’s green entrance. And then there was his papá, the man proved to be more subtle compared to his wife, but Camilo could see the mask he now wore. The smile on his face felt forced, especially when he noticed hints of hesitation at the corners. His tone, something that had always been filled with confidence, now held doubt. He seemed to have lost that spark that made him the life of the party.

His hermana found herself favoring the company of others during this time, which is something he found to be ironic considering her propensity for avoiding crowded places. Camilo would often spot her heading out of their home and entering community without even letting anyone know her intentions. When he asked her why she felt the need to leave after all that had happened, she whispered that as much as she couldn’t handle the noise, she found the silence to be more unbearable.

And then there was his grandmother… the woman had always been a complicated person, someone who seemed to be a representation of both good and bad. However, that day, another mask had been added to her collection. One that would embody their fears, worries, stresses, and pressures.

Overall, his family had been in ruins, separated in more ways than one. .

Just like how they were now.

Memories of the time he went back to the Nursery flooded his mind. His tíos and primas had been the first to comfort Mirabel, then they were followed by his padres. However, even with all this support, Mirabel still found herself favoring the Nursery’s space. Which is why Camilo figured that it was now his time to shine as he made his way to his former room. With baited breath, he knocked on the door before letting himself in once he realized that there would be no answer. He was greeted by the sight of Mirabel laying on her bed, her body was curled up in a ball as her back was facing him. Her gaze never wandered to him as he sat on the floor, right beside her bed. As soon as he was situated, he carefully thought about how he could help her.

And suddenly he recalled the days they spent together in his new room, where she would praise him regardless of the performances he gave. She made him feel better about himself through her smile, so maybe he could do the same for her. After all, she claimed that his ability to make her beam is what made him who he truly was. He also thought about all the kind things she said about him, what she liked most when it came to him. And so, he used her example as a guide as he spoke.

I like Mirabel the way she is.

That seemed to capture her attention as her form perked up a little, but she still didn’t look at him. He silently applauded himself for accomplishing such a task, although it still wasn’t enough. He had to keep going.

I like her silly stories.

Mirabel always knew how to tell great tales of adventure, her imagination was out of this world. She could create the best of moments through her words alone.

I like her pretty pictures.

At one time, their crafts had adorned the Nursery’s walls, reminders of better times. Camilo even took some of them with him when he moved into his new room, for he didn’t want to forget the world’s best roommate.

I like her fun songs.

She was inspired to fashion ballads from the simplest of situations. And it was quite difficult to not get involved with such a process, as there had been multiple occasions where his hermana, primas, and himself joined her tune. They would be lost without her beat.

I like her green glasses.

They suited her well, they accented her bright and outgoing personality. Mirabel’s eyes held such a magical wonder, they looked like they could unravel the secrets of the world.

I like her because she’s nice.

How many times did she put others before herself? Too many, and such a habit would be the embodiment of who she would be in the future. 

I like her even if she isn’t like me.

She didn’t need a gift to be captivating, she already possessed a charm capable of alluring anyone to her. And yes, it would have been great for her to get a magical talent, but Camilo didn’t love her any less because she didn’t. To him, she was already magical. That was a trait no other Madrigal had, that in itself was a gift.

I like her because she’s her.

That was when he felt it. A familiar pair of arms wrapped around his neck as a small body toppled over him. He also heard small sniffles and sobs emitting from the same source. It was none other than Mirabel herself. It took Camilo a second to regain his composure, but as soon as he was able to, he returned the embrace. She had always been there when he needed someone, now it was his turn to be there for her. That’s why he didn’t say a word as she cried against his shoulder, all the while he ran a hand along her hair and patted her back with the other. Together, they mourned for what was lost. However, what happened next was burned into Camilo’s memory. Some time had passed before Mirabel’s cries finally came to an end. But when they did, she looked into his eyes, and for what felt like the first time in forever, she smiled.

Just like how she used to whenever he was around.

However, a heartfelt consolation between family members wasn’t enough to set things back to the way they were before. Things had changed. After Mirabel’s failed ceremony, the community became more sheltered and reliant on the Madrigal household. Perhaps it was because he was young at the time, and he didn’t have his gift yet, but Camilo never realized how much the Encanto reaped in the benefits of having a magical family within reach. This only became more obvious after Mirabel didn’t live up to the expectations of her predecessors. During this duties, as he wore mask after mask, he came to understand how truly disappointed the community was. He heard and bore witness to it all as he helped them with their chores. To them, there wouldn’t be another individual who could serve their community and the cause for celebration was a total bust, it was nothing more than a waste of supplies and energy. Not mention they weren’t able to see another magical door and room take shape, meaning they lost out on the chance to bask in the perks of their miracle’s abilities. What if Mirabel was the last person to be born in her generation, did that mean they wouldn’t be able to see a proper ceremony again? And what if the future generations followed in her footsteps, would that mean they would lose the magic that made their lives so much easier?

Camilo couldn’t believe what he was hearing in regards to his family. Did the Encanto truly believe the only reason they existed was to act as conduits for a better life? Yes they did, and it didn’t help that his grandmother had enforced such a mindset. After all, she was the one who had set the foundation for their miracle and its purposes, even if it meant having her descendants act as servants for the cause. And after Mirabel didn’t live up to everyone’s expectations, she declared that the blessed clan had to compensate for the loss and reassure every one of their place in the world. Suddenly their workload had increased, and Camilo found himself being run ragged in opposite directions, depending what was needed at the time. Or should he say who was needed. Let’s face it, people didn’t want him for him… they wanted who he could be. And so, Camilo returned to the stage, where he put on the performance of a lifetime multiple times a day. Be it an exhausted parent in need of a break, an individual who needed to be in two places at once, a worker who wanted an extra body to assist them with their chores, or an entertainer for the youth of their town, he was there. Everyone could count on him… even if it meant not being himself. That’s why he tended to observe people’s habits, replicate their mannerisms, and take on their appearances on a daily basis, just so he could prove his worth to the Encanto and their miracle.

Sometimes he looked in the mirror and he don't know who he saw.

And then there was his household. Casita appeared to hold more secrets as the magic proved to be more complicated than any of them originally thought. The sentient house had always been a lively member of the family, but even they seemed to be on guard after that catastrophic event. As for his relatives, there was no better way to describe them other than being broken. They were all affected by Mirabel’s uncertain future, they just tried to hide such a fact by donning masks in an attempt to reassure everyone that everything was fine and that the magic was strong. Not to mention that the bonds they had once shared had shifted. Everyone became so preoccupied with work, Camilo couldn’t remember the last time they had spent together as a family outside of meals, and even then the conversations would always steer back to their responsibilities. They just couldn’t catch a break. And it wasn’t fair.

He felt like a solider at war, fighting with the cape and the mask that everyone adored.

With that in mind, he knew that he had changed too, and it wasn’t because of his gift. He became so preoccupied with putting a smile on other people’s faces, that he failed to remember the one who taught him that very lesson. And deep down, Camilo knew why he had let go of the special bond between Mirabel and himself. As he stated before, so many things had changed after that night. And in his eyes, none of it was for the better. People became more obvious with their intentions and opinions as others shielded themselves behind a mask that embodied denial. Then there was the idea that loss could potentially become a daily occurrence, and affect anyone, even the people who only wanted to help strengthen their home. It was all too much for the former chameleon. And every time he was confronted with this new world, he grew afraid of it evolving into something else… something that could very well cause them to end up losing it all. Ironically, a person capable of change came to loathe the very idea of it. He didn’t think he could handle any more changes to the Encanto, both in the community and within his family. Abuela Alma had always stated that as long as the Madrigals worked hard and were dedicated to the cause, then the miracle would keep on burning, therefore, everything would be fine. To him, that meant that everything had to be in order, they were given roles to play, and if that changed too… then who would he be? 

He was scared to find out. He allowed himself to think that there was nothing else other than what his gift gave him. And if the magic faded like Mirabel’s door, then he be no different than her. He knew that it was such a cruel and selfish mindset to have, but no one that ever taught them the possibility that there was more to them than just their gifts. Camilo would never forgive himself for thinking that being anything like Mirabel was a horrible outcome to reach, especially when she had done for much for their family and community over the years, they had just allowed themselves to become blind to what she had to offer. And one particular event would prove such a fact.

On May 21^st, his little brother had arrived into the world. With Antonio’s birth, the people saw an opportunity to see whether or not the magic was still just as strong as they believed. And there was no denying that even his own family held some anticipation and uncertainty when it came to his little sibling. However, there was one who went against it all. And it was none other than his primita.

When it was time for everyone to meet the new baby, Mirabel’s turn finally came after everyone else had a chance to introduce themselves to the newborn. And as soon as he was in her arms, Camilo could see the unconditional love and affection she held for Antonio. She didn’t have to say anything for Camilo to realize that she didn’t allow any of the people’s opinions to sway how she felt about him. She paid no mind to the doubts and worries concerning his future as a Madrigal and possible servant of the Encanto. Instead, she saw a new life in need of love and support. Maybe that’s why the first thing the baby did when he saw Mirabel was smile. With everyone else, he just cooed and yawned, but somehow Mirabel had garnered such a reaction. And while their parientes saw a precious moment between two cousins, Camilo saw something else. He saw the example their family should have been following.

Mirabel had shown Antonio endless devotion, and he reciprocated that ideal. That was the day that Camilo came to two important realizations concerning his prima. One, his title had been assumed by another. That significant event would foreshadow the bond between the two youngest members of the Madrigal clan. The two became more inseparable as the years passed, so much so that whenever Antonio wanted someone it was usually Mirabel. And while Camilo could understand why, he couldn’t deny that it didn’t sting a little. To see his precious little brother bond so easily with his favorite prima, it was something he wished he had the strength to follow. However, no matter how tempting it was to continue what they had all those years ago. At the end of the day, Camilo reminded himself that they were just too different now, and when Mirabel needed to smile, she no longer came to him. Instead, Antonio had been the one to grant her such a privilege. She didn’t need him anymore. Without a doubt, when his baby brother looked at Mirabel, he didn’t see the outcast, but for who she truly was.

Just like how he used to. 

And the last realization was the fact that out of everything and everyone, there was one person who hadn’t changed in the slightest. The Madrigals were shaped by their doors, their gifts, and their rooms… but Mirabel went against all of that. And Camilo was sure that if it had been anyone else to experience what she had, they wouldn’t be the person Mirabel was. Yes, she had mourned for what she didn’t acquire, she had every right to, but Camilo couldn’t recall a time where she expressed jealousy or resentment towards them because of their assigned roles. Instead, she tried to contribute in her own way, she worked hard to prove that she had a place in this world, and despite how different she was from the rest of the Madrigals, the love she had for them was boundless. Not a single day went by where Mirabel didn’t declare how proud she was to be a part of a family as magical and fantastical as theirs. Even when they had no right to be on the receiving end of such devotion and praise.

Just like how she was back then.

But now he couldn’t help but wonder if that had changed because of them… because of him. That heated encounter between Abuela and Mirabel would be forever burned into his memory, only because it cemented how frightening change could be. Even if they had a complicated relationship, he never thought his grandmother and cousin were capable of showcasing such sides. Abuela Alma’s unfair and hurtful accusations only made Camilo question just how much had they drifted apart from one another to allow such agonizing words to be spoken to one of their own. However, without a doubt, the one that hurt the most was Mirabel’s upsetting reaction and heart wrenching declaration before she made her powerful exit. His primita had been waiting for her moment to shine, well, she really outdid herself. For once, the attention and spotlight had been on her, just not in the way they had hoped. Regardless of the circumstances she found herself in, Mirabel had somehow managed to stay that empathetic individual who could make your whole world bright just by walking into the room. She had always been the definition of unconditional love, support, and pride. And yet, that didn’t seem to be the case anymore. Not that Camilo could blame her.

“A nice boy who can’t do anything useful for the family,” he remarked.

His mother’s eyes widen in surprise, but before she could respond, Camilo slowly let go of her hands. He didn’t deserve to be coddled and doted on, especially not after he failed someone he held near and dear to his heart. He allowed the pursuit of perfection to get the best of him as he returned to the stage time and time again, greeting his audience with open arms as he donned several masks, and worked to make them laugh and smile. But in the process, he forgot about the people who worked behind the scenes.  

“Especially for Mirabel.”

All this time, while she hadn’t changed like the rest of them did, she had been hiding behind a mask as well. And Camilo felt so stupid for not realizing it much sooner. His poor primita deserved so much better than what she received, and he did nothing to lessen the hurt she was experiencing despite her always offering that courtesy to everyone else. She had always put the world before herself, even if it meant she had to sacrifice all that was her for the greater good. Camilo had no idea what was going to happen when they found Mirabel, but he could only hope that she hadn’t changed too much because of them… because of him.

The light may have left Mirabel’s door all those years ago, but it hadn’t left her. If she was gone, then Camilo knew for a fact that their family would never shine again. They had been through a lot of changes over the years, however, this was one Camilo refused to stand by and allow to happen. It had taken a long time, but he felt as if he finally understood what Mirabel’s role was. And he wanted more than anything to see how that would strengthen their home.

“I wish I had a gift like yours.”

Even the smallest person can make the biggest of differences, the tiniest of voices can change the course of the future. In a family as fantastical and magical as the Madrigals, it was possible to get lost in the crowd. Everyone shined brightly, yet differently. For all of their talents, there was no denying that some proved to be more useful compared to others. There was a line between the chosen and the rest, those who were called upon frequently as opposed to the ones who were still discovering their uses. Which is why everyone waited with baited breath when it came time for him to perform his magical ritual. Both the public and his kin were eager to see what kind of future fate had in store for him. For what would become of the last of the second generation? How would he strengthen their community? Would he follow in the steps of the youngest from the other two branches?

Julieta, Isabela, and Dolores… the eldest children whose gifts were labeled as more useful, necessary, and had to set an example for those who came after them.

Pepa, Luisa, and Camilo… the middle children who were often overlooked, underappreciated, and struggled to keep it all together.

And then that left the rest… the three youngest who seemed to be outcasts for various reasons. One had been defined as a bad omen who only seemed capable bringing misfortune to the community. The other had been labeled as the left out child due to not receiving a magical talent. As for the last one, there was always an aura of uncertainty around them from the day of their birth until their ceremony.

However, there had always been questions that lingered within the mind of the last born child concerning his lineage. Why did there have to be such differences between his relatives? Why did they have been separated based on their duties? Why were they defined by their gifts? Why couldn’t they be accepted for who they were rather than what they could give? Why couldn’t they just be a whole family? Why? Why? Why?

Being a child of only five, he was used to the people around him saying that when he was older he would understand. When he grew up, he would be capable of comprehending the most difficult of situations. When he was old enough, he could make wise choices. But for now, he was just too young to properly grasp the reality of their world. However, he found that to be ironic considering no one could provide the answers he was looking for. Everyone always made it seem like the grown-ups held them. People declared that the grown-ups knew best simply because they had been in this world for far longer than him. That was something he couldn’t deny, but if that was the case, then why did the world around him seemed to be just as confused as him?

That was yet another question no one could provide an answer to. He was beginning to doubt everything he had ever been taught. Nothing made sense anymore. Then again, maybe it never made sense to begin with. However, he was forced to put aside such conflicting emotions and thoughts, and focus on the task at hand. He had already broken down earlier, and despite attempts to comfort him, he just couldn’t find peace until the person he truly desired was back to hold him once more. That very same person who had joined him in his hiding place, who offered reassurance and a gift of their own, who took his hand so easily and followed him to his door, who was trying their best to save their family and the magic… and who disappeared after making a heartbreaking declaration. Believe it or not, but it wasn’t Casita’s collapse or the loss of their gifts that cemented his doubt about the world. Instead, it was that confession. If the person who claimed to love him most of all actually hated him, then what else was a lie? What else did people not know? What else did he not know?

Foot prints paved a way through the thick brush of the hidden paradise known as the Encanto. They were followed by others, but it seemed like the smallest left the biggest mark. His walk was swift yet cautious, his energy never wavered even as the day began to lose its light, and his voice seemed to be accented with a mixture of determination and uncertainty. Overall, Antonio Madrigal was a child on a mission.

“Mirabel!”

There was no answer, for what seemed to be the hundredth time. But he still persisted, not caring about the harsh environment that was working against him. Trees and their branches blocked his view, rocks caused him to tumble, and small bodies of water slowed down his pace. He silently cursed the fact that he was so small and docile compared to the other members of his familia. He wished he had muscles like his prima Luisa or possessed his hermana’s tall stature, such traits would have made this journey easier.

“Mirabel!”

He was greeted with nothing once more. And so, he crossed yet another series of nature’s thresholds before calling out to her again. Where could she be? It felt like they had searched every possible crevice and inch for her, and yet not a trace of the wayward Madrigal could be found. Surely there had to be something they were missing. She just couldn’t disappear like that, it wouldn’t be fair. He wanted to know, no he needed to know, whether or not she meant what she had said. It just couldn’t be true, it couldn’t!

Mirabel, his beloved prima and surrogate hermana, what had went wrong between them for her to just leave him behind like that? He thought they were thick as thieves, two peas in a pod, birds of a feather, and two of a kind. He loved her with his entire being. What had happened?

His paced slowed down a little as he contemplated such a question. For once, he didn’t look to the grown-ups for the answer. Because he already knew it, how could he not? He may have been a child but he wasn’t stupid. It all started with his gift ceremony, a rite of passage that would supposedly grant him a spot among the constellation known as the Madrigals. It was a defining moment for any child born into their lineage. He had been the last child born to his parents, his doting, well-intended yet emotional mother, and his strong, stable but soft-hearted father. He had joined a quiet and supportive sister, and an outgoing and energetic brother. He had completed their branch and ended the chapter for the second generation. And from what he had gathered from the whispers of the public and his relatives, there was much anticipation surrounding his birth.

Nobody realized it, but Antonio Madrigal had been blessed long before his ceremony. He had been gifted with eyes unclouded by discrimination and bias. He saw humanity in its purest form, untainted by the opinions of those around him. When he gazed upon an individual, he saw both their imperfections and their strengths. But he lived by the idea that it was the blemishes that made something beautiful, and not the efforts taken to hide such flaws. He learned to appreciate faults, for there was nothing wrong with being human and standing with the crowd instead of above it.

And who had been the one to plant such vital seeds? It had been none other than Mirabel.

From the moment he arrived into this world and was taken into her arms, Antonio felt as if everything made sense. She had given him strength, even as a baby it seems. His older brother had often spoke of the time where she had been the one to make him smile and laugh first. He didn’t have memories from when he was that young, but he never doubted such a fact. Despite being an infant, he knew who loved him. The scary times didn’t look impossible to overcome, a light was shined in the darkness, and nothing else seemed to matter whenever she was around. Mirabel had given him a voice when he needed it the most. His prima was truly a force to be reckon with, it was only a shame that some couldn’t see her the way he saw her.

He loved his relatives, there was no denying that. He couldn’t imagine life without a single one of them, for they had all shown their love for him in a multitude of ways. But it was because of that love that he was aware of the flaws they worked so hard to hide. He couldn’t count the times he bore witness to the cracks in their facades. They had been small, almost unnoticeable at first, but as time went on, he became more aware of what such moments represented. He had to give his clan credit where it was due, they were all very good actresses and actors in their own ways, each possessing a unique style of coping and suppression. However, no matter how skilled they were, or how hard they worked to craft an image of perfection, it would never be enough. Antonio could see everything for what it truly was.

Mami would never be able to control her emotions enough. All of her attempts to keep her feelings in line were deemed inadequate, it’s almost as if people didn’t want her to feel anything at all.

Tía Julieta would never be able to produce a sufficient amount of food to heal quickly enough. The woman practically lived in the kitchen, so much so that she couldn’t always be there for her family.

Tío Bruno would never be able to see enough. People went as far as to label him as a bad omen simply because he couldn’t see more good things than bad ones.

Isabela would never be perfect enough. From the moment of her birth, she had been regarded as the golden child, she couldn’t afford to be anything or anyone else.

Dolores would never be able to respond to the public’s needs enough. There was a constant overload of information pouring into her ears, the young woman always seemed to know far too much for her liking.

Luisa would never be strong enough. Physical strength couldn’t account for mental or emotional strength, she was always expected to be the image of an unbreakable warrior.

Camilo would never be capable of changing enough. The boy went through so many faces a day that there were times where he would forget who he was supposed to be, who he wanted to be.

His Papi and Tío Agustín would never be useful enough. They could offer their assistance to anyone and yet it wouldn’t amount to the same magical standard as their spouses and children.

And Mirabel… she would never be good enough. Without a gift to call her own, she proved to be an enigma of sorts, someone who didn’t seem to belong anywhere, a mismatched puzzle piece.

As for him… he wasn’t enough. He wasn’t enough to make her stay. Despite all the love and affection he had for Mirabel, apparently that couldn’t stop the raging storm brewing inside her.

It took Antonio this long to realize something very important concerning his kin. Those cracks hadn’t just formed on the walls and boundaries of Casita and the Encanto, they had been carved into his family as well. And if that was the case, then his grandmother had been wrong about Mirabel, something he already knew beforehand, but this only cemented that belief. Those cracks hadn’t started with her, they had begun long before the day she claimed to have spotted them. Antonio hated that Alma just couldn’t accept that everything was not alright, that their family wasn’t as strong as she claimed. But most importantly, he hated how she couldn’t see how special Mirabel truly was.

He knew that there was no avoiding the event known as his fifth birthday, the importance of such an event had been engraved into his mind from the moment he could understand what it entailed. He had been told the story of their miracle, how it saved the first generation of his family and crafted a sanctuary for many, but at a serious cost. The portrait of his grandfather, an object he would gaze upon every now and again, proved to be a symbol of hope and their miracle. But he would come to learn that it was also a reminder of what was lost in order to obtain everything they had now. That’s why his Abuela had held the miracle with such high regard, why all of the Madrigals efforts needed to be directed towards its survival and continuation for generations to come. Such a duty would be assigned to him as well when it came time for his magical ritual.

And that’s where the lingering doubts came into play. Antonio didn’t even need to hear it from anyone to know that there was tension forming in the air as the day drew closer. His parents’ thoughts seemed to be preoccupied with worry as they contemplated the possibility of their son following his cousin’s path. While he knew that their hearts were in the right place, he couldn’t help but fault them for thinking being like Mirabel was a bad thing. His siblings did their best to remain by his side through it all, clearly trying to shield him from public opinion in the process of doing so. He hoped that they had been attentive to Mirabel in the same way during the days leading to her gift ceremony, and even after. His tíos seemed to place their focus on their youngest child rather than him, something he couldn’t fault them for. If anything he was grateful that not all of the attention had been directed towards him. His prima Isabela seemed to be quietly dreading his ceremony, although she did her best to hide it behind that beautiful smile of hers. Looking back on it now, it probably had something to do with her courtship with Mariano, apparently it was a topic that had to be addressed after his ceremony. His other prima, Luisa, seemed to be lost in her work. Her efforts were focused on ensuring that everyone was safe and that nothing could go wrong for his special moment.

And last, but not least, there was Abuela Alma… the person whose opinion seemed to matter most of all. She spent the days performing her usual duties of tending to the Encanto, taking requests and assigning tasks to their relatives, all the while planning for his fifth birthday. However, it didn’t take a genius to see that she was more on guard compared to everyone else. The elder Madrigal had always been described as a perfectionist, someone who modeled all that was good about their paradise. But another side had been portrayed during that time. She fretted over the littlest of things, paid close attention to every single detail, made sure that no one strayed away from their designated roles, and kept a closer eye on the candle. While he loved his grandmother and appreciated all that she did for their home, there were times where she scared him. He hated the idea that his abuela’s love seemed to be as fragile as the foundation their miracle was built upon. Why couldn’t she just love them for who they were rather than someone she wanted them to be?

However, despite all the apprehension, Antonio found that there was always one person he could turn to for true support. This person had proved time and time again that their love was unwavering and powerful than any sort of magic. Mirabel didn’t seem to hold any fear when it came time for his gift day, instead, she remained firm in the belief that he would be granted a magical talent. But how could she be so sure, he wondered. She answered that it was because he was special, that fate wouldn’t deny him anything for that reason. And while Antonio appreciated the positive outlook, at the same time, he couldn’t help but mourn for her as well. Because he could only imagine how people held such a hope for her at one point. After all, a Madrigal’s purpose was to serve, to strengthen their home.

I wish you could have a door.

That was something he had desired so many times in the past, but never had the courage to say it aloud until the very day of his ceremony. If he could have any gift, he would have wanted the ability to grant Mirabel a room of her very own. One whose door would contain a golden depiction of her smiling on its surface, shining ever so brightly. He hoped its interior would have been crafted in her image, containing everything she would ever need within its endless walls. But most importantly, he desperately wished he had the power to give her a gift. Knowing his beloved prima, the possibilities were endless.

But alas, fate didn’t seem to work in her favor as she was casted to the side more times that he liked to admit. He would watch as his kin would be preoccupied with the same chores every day, never allowing themselves to take a break. Each of them would be so focused on the task at hand that at times they failed to pay attention to his prima. They adhered to a strict schedule set up by the matriarch, and if Mirabel wasn’t a part of that routine, then there was no need to pay her any mind. Even from an early age, Antonio couldn’t help but notice how his relatives seemed to be shackled to responsibility, for they never strayed far from their designed path. They weren’t allowed to grow, to experience… to change. And that’s probably one of the reasons why he gravitated towards Mirabel. Unlike the others, Mirabel didn’t seem to know any limitations, she refused to be settled to conformity. A butterfly, that was the perfect way he could describe his prima. A seemingly small being with a great purpose, whose actions often went unnoticed and were underappreciated, and yet, she still kept at it because they brought her satisfaction. Not only that but a butterfly was a creature well known for change, something only Mirabel seemed capable of performing. That’s why Antonio never strayed too far away from her. If there was anyone in his family that he could look up to it was her. In his mind, Mirabel was the perfect demonstration of all that he wanted to be when he grew up.

However, in order to achieve such a goal, he first had to perform the magical ritual that defined his family. If the ceremony didn’t work then he wouldn’t be allowed to reach the next milestones in his life. At least, that’s what he overheard Abuela Alma saying at one point. Which didn’t make sense to him because Mirabel hadn’t been able to experience such an important event, but she was probably the most well put together person he ever knew. And yet, much like the other Madrigals, Antonio couldn’t find his voice whenever he was around the matriarch. The older woman had this way about her, she made it near impossible to be approached for anything that didn’t concern the continuation of their miracle. Sometimes he wondered if she was capable of thinking about anything else other than that candle.

And he contemplated a future where he would be in the shadows alongside his cousin. Truthfully, he wouldn’t have minded at all, because at least he would have been beside his most favorite person. He knew that Mirabel would love him no matter the outcome was. If there was one thing Antonio could say without any hesitation it’s that he loved Mirabel more than he cared about Abuela’s opinions. As long as he had his prima, nothing else mattered. Which is why he had asked her to stand by his side as he made his way to his designated door. She had always been the one to give him the strength he needed to find his voice.

And he wondered if such a fact influenced the gift he had been given that day. He would never forget the moment he placed his hand on that doorknob, the uncertainty he felt, wondering whether or not it would suffer the same fate as his predecessor. However, imagine his surprise, along with everyone else’s when the door reacted differently compared to the last time. He would never forget how brightly it shined as a warmth encompassed his person, a trait he thought only Mirabel possessed. His gift was soon revealed to both his familia and the public. Zoolingualism, that’s what his Mami and Papi called it, the ability to converse with animals. He could understand their language, and they could understand him. A whole new world had been opened to him, literally and metaphorically. The room seemed to have a mind of its own as it was slowly crafted the moment he stepped through that door. A voice practically lured him into the confines of the magical space.

Antonio viene, viene Antonio

El niño tiene su voz, Antonio tiene su don

After all this time, it seemed that he had found his voice amongst the crowd.

He was then greeted by the sight of an endless jungle with multiple levels of plants and waterfalls surrounding it. Wide open spaces as far as the eye could see awaited him, and that wasn’t all, he was introduced to his new friends. Parce, Chispi and Pico, those were their names and they were more than eager for him to join their inner circles. Overall, everything seemed to be turning out the way people hoped. At last, he was a true Madrigal, someone who would grow up to strengthen their home, just like those who came before him.

His family had expressed great pride in his endeavor, especially his grandmother. Her face seemed to be brightened with a mixture of pure joy and adoration. It was such a rare expression to come by in his family, it had only been directed towards a few. And usually it was when someone did something right in her eyes.

I knew you could do it, a gift just as special as you.

Those words were forever cemented into his heart and mind, adding to the happiness he felt in that moment. Soon it was time to document the occasion with a photograph, it would only be a matter of time before his image decorated on the wall with the others.

La familia Madrigal!

It was one of the rare times where all of them could be together. Antonio hadn’t seen the picture yet, but he could only imagine how perfect they looked. Everyone was in their assigned place, joining their branch of the family as they posed in accordance to their gift or personality. It was everything his grandmother could have ever wanted and more. If she was happy, then everyone else was happy too. And if that was the case, maybe she would be in a good mood… maybe things would be different now that no one had anything to worry about concerning their magic.

Oh how wrong he was. That very same night a doubt had been placed into everyone’s minds once more. The house was apparently in danger, cracks had formed along the walls as the doors’ glow faltered, and the candle almost went out. Of course it was none other than Mirabel who made such declarations, she claimed to have borne witness to it all. And of course, no one believed her, not even their own family.

Antonio was disappointed, but not in her, but in his relatives. Evidently, no one knew her as well as he did. Some seemed to believe that she had done this purposefully to ruin his night. But he knew better, Mirabel wasn’t capable of such a feat. She would never lie about such matters. Everything she did, she did for the sake of their family. Now if only everyone else could believe that. Unforntately, he didn’t have the chance to talk to her about what she saw. He had been ushered away by his parents, clearly trying to salvage his gift day. But his curiosity had been peaked, what secrets was their Casita was hiding? And why would it willingly it keep them from the family it had protected for nearly fifty years? It just didn’t make any sense. But he wouldn’t have time to question it since his family’s focus shifted to another.

A formal engagement dinner was to be held in honor of Isabela and Mariano Guzmán the day after his ceremony. The tension had returned, only this time it was far worse than he could ever have imagined. Unlike the humans, his animal friends had been more than willing to help him in his endeavor. They had scattered around Casita and the Encanto, overhearing anything that could answer his questions. He was more than grateful for their efforts because they been more than enough, and now he realized what was going on hide behind closed doors. Cracks had been forming in his house for some time now, they were just hidden from view. It seemed like the magical dwelling had done its best to conceal its scars, trying to hide its imperfections. If Antonio didn’t know any better he could have sworn that the house was mimicking the traits of his family. It was trying to keep it all together, doing its best to hide the blemishes that may have revealed that they weren’t as perfect as they lead people to believe. Maybe that’s why the cracks had disappeared by the time people tried to see them. Or maybe Casita was reflection of what they desired and the efforts taken to ensure everyone that everything was alright. If everyone believed that things were fine, then Casita would reflect that belief.

But not even that was enough. Thanks to his animal friends Antonio had come to learn more about the other secrets surrounding his household. Such as the person who had done their best to heal Casita’s scars. A person he never had the privilege of knowing, for he had disappeared nearly ten years ago. An uncle, one linked to him by blood rather than marriage, who had been given the gift of prophecy. Someone no one talked about for that very same reason. It turns out Bruno Madrigal hadn’t left at all, he was still there! His uncle hadn’t abandoned his family as he had been lead to believe by his grandmother. Bruno’s whispers among the rats had confirmed what Mirabel had seen… the magic was in danger! She was right! And what’s more there was a vision concerning that very fact, something Mirabel had acquired in her efforts to save their home.

He had to do something, he had to help Mirabel. But alas, his attempts to do so were shadowed by the dinner. He knew that he couldn’t say anything pertaining to the matter in front of everyone. The last thing he wanted was to put Mirabel in a horrible position, even more so when there were some who believed that she was somehow the cause of the misfortunes that were befalling them. The youngest Madrigal didn’t believe that in the slightest, and he would do anything to make sure that he was nothing but supportive of her.

Now if only he could have said the same about his relatives. Never more had he been disappointed in his branch of the family. The animals had spoken of Dolores’s knowledge concerning the whereabouts of their uncle for the past ten years, she had managed to keep it a secret due to her desire to protect him from further scrutiny. But if that was the case then why hadn’t she extended such a courtesy to Mirabel, she was their family too even if she didn’t have a gift! Dolores knew how their prima was regarded in the eyes of their grandmother, why add to that? And what’s more she even went as far as to blurt out her belief that Mirabel would somehow be the one to destroy the magic. She had started that line of gossip to the rest of their relatives. And that was something he just couldn’t look past.

As for Camilo, he just had to add fuel to the fire didn’t he? He knew his brother loved his fair share of drama, he was practically the king of it. However, at least before he could say that his sibling meant well. Camilo had often told him that drama could be harmless and fun, as long as everyone was in on the joke. But where was the humor in putting a negative spotlight on their cousin? His brother was old enough to know that there was a time and a place for everything. If he was worried, then he should have just waited until after dinner to bring it up. But no, what did he expect from the person his sister seemed to trust most of all when it came to their secrets? He was just as bad as her.

And then there were his parents. They were the grown-ups, they were supposed to have the answers. They were supposed to know better! But if that was the case, then why hadn’t they been more careful with their reactions concerning the vision? He could give his mother some leeway compared to his padre. After all, she couldn’t help the fact that her emotions were constantly on display for all to see. However, that didn’t excuse what she told Mirabel after that disastrous dinner. Mirabel hadn’t done anything! She was only trying to help, which was more than he could say for her and the others. As for his father, he knew he had better manners that the ones he showcased at the table. Usually the man had proved to be more understanding of Mirabel, he clearly regarded her with some importance. He had even seen his father defend her on some occasions, he declared time and time again that she was just as special as the rest of them. He even complimented her artistic talents. But if that was the case then why was he so quick to join their train of gossip?

He couldn’t deny that some of his animal friends had contributed to the cause, they had acted on his orders but unfortunately didn’t realize, much like his brother, that there was a time and a place for everything. They may share a communication link but at the end of the day they were still animals and they didn’t go through the same dilemmas as humans. Which is why they didn’t think things through.

The dinner had ended on a sour note but his hope had been somewhat restored when he finally had Mirabel alone, and with Bruno by her side. The three youngest members of their branches were united in their mission to strengthen their home. They would restore it to its former glory, and everything would truly be okay. He had often dreamed of the day where every single one of his relatives could live under the same roof without the tension. It would be a day where all members of the Madrigal family would be blessed knowing that they had one another. And in the end that’s all that should have mattered. Because for all of their faults Antonio had believed that they held some form of love for one another.

That belief had been completely destroyed alongside Casita. As he stated before, nothing made sense anymore and nothing would ever be the same again. Everything he had ever believed was no more. His house was gone, his room and gift had disappeared, his animal friends were scattered about, his family was in ruins… and Mirabel hated them all. She hated him.

And you know what, he found himself sharing such a sentiment as well. Because he knew exactly who to blame for this mess, and it most certainly wasn’t Mirabel. It was everyone’s fault! The only exception he could make was his Tío Bruno, he at least was looking out for her. But no one else could say the same. Tía Julieta and Tío Agustín just stood by and allowed their own child to become the scapegoat of Alma’s wrath. They knew how the old woman treated her and they did nothing to stop it! Isabela and Luisa disregarded her more times than he could count despite seeming to share a bond with one another. She was their sister too but they acted otherwise! Mami and Papi acted like their love for one another was boundless and yet that affection didn’t seem to extend to Mirabel. They hadn’t sided with her when she needed them the most! Dolores and Camilo had failed to keep her safe when it truly mattered. They didn’t put her first when he knew she had extended that favor to them several times before!

As for Abuela Alma… just thinking about the woman was enough to make his blood boil. He had given her the benefit of the doubt too many times in the past. The grown-ups had spoken of the tragedies she had experienced to get to where she was today, how she not only lost her first home but the love of her life as well. She had to raise three children on her own, all the while taking care of the people who relied on her for hope and guidance. Plus there was the fact that she had to protect the miracle that was given to them through sacrifice. Overall, he knew that his grandmother had her reasons for being the way that she was. But that only explained her actions, it didn’t excuse them.

His fingers fiddled with the scarf draped around his neck, as he did his best to swallow back the tears. His face burned with a mixture of anger and sorrow, his eyes began narrow and his body shook. Small whimpers escaped his lips as he struggled to find his voice once more. He heard his mother and brother calling out to him, their tone clearly expressed their concern for him. But he couldn’t find himself caring about that at the moment, everything around him became a blur as he focused his attention onto what he believed had been the true source of all this heartache.

The cracks started with her. Bruno left because of her. Luisa lost her powers, Isabela was out of control because of her. He didn’t know why she believed that she was the only one who cared about this family, but it was not an excuse for her to hurt them the way she did. Antonio had a voice, he had been given one because of his gift and Mirabel. She had always been his role model, she set a foundation for him to follow. And so he lived up to the example she demonstrated earlier.

“The miracle died because of you Abuela.”

Antonio had a voice, and he was make sure he was heard from now on.

A dark paint started to accent the sky, swirls of blue and black became entwined with orange and pink. It almost looked like a painting of sorts. Tiny specks of starlight became more evident as the minutes passed. Their shining bodies lighting the way to parts unknown. A gentle breeze could be felt, causing the brush to provide a quiet rhythm for the crickets to sing. On any other day, it would have been the perfect time to just stand in Casita’s hallway and take in the heavenly scenery that could only belong to the Encanto.

He would never forget the day such a wondrous place had been conceived. He had been so small at the time, he was about to turn three that year, an event his padres had already started planning with great anticipation. But it wasn’t long before such happiness had been clouded by tragedy. He could only remember bits and pieces of what had occurred, but he could never forget the fear his family had felt as they struggled to pack what they could and the sorrow etched on their faces as they were forced to bid goodbye to everything they had ever known. His mother held him tightly as his father loaded their belongings onto their beloved donkey. The creature had proved to be a loyal pet as they refused to leave their side, even in times of turmoil.

The next thing he could remember was the sight of people running, scurrying away from the fires that had consumed the buildings that crafted their former community. He had caught a glimpse of his first home being overtaken by the roaring flames. Such a sight saddened him, for he knew how hard his parents had worked to create that loving environment for him. Precious memories had been born there, only for them to be taken away simply because of humanity’s greed and lust for power. He recalled people shouting, men, women, children, infants. No one was spared. Félix saw that red had decorated some of the areas around him, bodies slowly collapsed to the ground, letting out sickening thuds as they did so. It was all too much, it had caused him to cling tightly to his mother. He let out a series of whimpers as she did her best to shield him with her arms. All the while, his father did his best to guide them away from the horrors taking place all around them.

The rest was blur as he tried his best to drown out the suffering, he didn’t want to hear or see anymore. No child should ever have to experience that. His parents had been the ones to fill him in on the details on what had occurred after that event. Apparently, they had found refuge with a group of survivors, people who had been their friends and neighbors. They had all been united in their grief, but they also shared a determination to save themselves from the terrors that had taken their community away from them. Things had settled down enough to where the people carefully made their way through the brush. Each of them did their best to remain as silent as possible as they were guided by a single light. That very light would shape the foundation of their future home, and it was in the possession of a couple known as Pedro and Alma Madrigal. He had only encountered them several times in the past, the man was a shopkeeper who specialized in the art of sewing, and the woman was an apprentice under a local florist. He had been the one holding the light while she carried their three newborn children within her arms.

Nobody realized, not even himself, that one of those newborns would go on to become his wife.

The next thing he knew, he was being carried across a stream of colorful water. Félix Castillo would never forget how peaceful, yet sad, the moment was. Even though they were escaping from tragedy, he couldn’t help but admire the assortment of colors that seemed to be shining in the watery way. Various hues of red, yellow, blue, and green rippled together as the people made their way through them. And just when all seemed to be safe enough, the nightmare had returned. From the distance, they hear and feel the vibrations of the enemy. Everyone had turned, their eyes widened with horror as terrified gasps escaped from their lips. The horsemen had found them! And they seemed to be determined to take more from them than they already had. Pedro Madrigal had shouted for them to run, to escape with their lives if they could. Félix could feel his mother’s grip on his tighten once again as she ran through the currents, all the while his father did his best to guide them and their donkey to safety. Felix could only watch helpless as people did their best to run, some tripping over themselves while others discarded anything that could have weighed them down. Once again the atmosphere became filled with dread, the end seemed near.

But just when all hope seemed to be lost, a miracle had occurred. At a cost of course. The hero known as Pedro Madrigal had willingly walked towards the enemy, in an attempt to slow them down. Even though he had only been a young child at the time, he would never forget the sight of the horsemen cutting him down with their weapons. The man didn’t even let out a cry of pain, he had accepted his fate the moment he stepped into those waters. Tears had welled up in his eyes as he watched the man’s body fall into the currents, his blood accented the hues with its own color. The people had let out a series of cries and gasps as they bore witness to the seen before them. But none of their reactions could ever compare to the one that belong to Alma Madrigal.

Never in his life had he heard such a horrifying yet heartbreaking sound, it was something that remained true even to this day. Her shriek of anguish as she reached for her fallen spouse, all the while doing her best to hold onto her babies, would forever haunt his nightmares. The poor woman had lost the love of her life within a matter of seconds, before they had the chance to start the new chapter of their lives together. Her sorrow consumed her as she fell to her knees and continued her cries.

And that’s when it happened.

The candle that had been guiding them through the darkness became something entirely new. A bright light surrounded it, emitting a special kind of warmth no one had ever felt before. The flame seemed to glow stronger as a wave of magic poured from its new body. This power had been enough to push away the evil and secured their new home. Félix would never forget the feeling of salvation that washed over him as the Encanto’s boundaries were crafted, and with it, a place he would one day inhabit as a member of the Madrigal clan. The Casita.

Such an event marked the beginning of new chapter for all of them. The older generations tended to remember the day with more clarity, but despite that fact, it still left a mark on him as well. Félix had a made a promise to himself when his padres and him established their new home within the confines of the Encanto. He promised that he would never allow such tragedies to befall them again, he refused to feel as helpless as he did that day. He declared that no one would ever suffer the way the Madrigal had all those years ago. He would never allow for Pedro Madrigal’s sacrifice to be in vain. And yet, such promises didn’t seem to matter anymore, not when they had experienced yet another series of losses. Only this time more people were affected than before. Everything they had ever worked for, and everything that they were, was gone now.

Which led them here, it was why he was currently tearing himself apart at the moment. He was breaking into a sweat while his voice grew raspier with each call. Then there was the state of his body, he lost track of many cuts and bruises he owned after all this. Not to mention the new accessories he now possessed. His hair seemed to be decorated with an assortment of leaves and sticks as mud adorned his shoes and pants. At any other moment this would have been hilarious, but now it was just inconvenient. He had always considered himself to be a lover of nature, someone who didn’t mind getting down and dirty when it was necessary, but this was something entirely new. Plus, he normally wasn’t under this amount of pressure.

But it was at that very thought he placed a palm over his face as he let out a deep sigh. He had to think about that more carefully, because a part of him knew that statement wasn’t entirely true. If there was one important thing he learned because of his marriage into the Madrigal family, it’s that burden came with the name. For all of their blessings, there had been a fair share of conflicts and mishaps that stemmed from them as well. And it was something he truly comprehend until he met her. He would never forget the day he finally became acquainted with the middle Madrigal daughter. He was more familiar with her siblings, for they always seemed to be located at specific areas of the community, but she was different. Her duties were scattered all around the Encanto, she wasn’t settled to one area like her sister and brother. Every now and again he would visit Julieta at her food stand, or run into Bruno as he was seemingly doing his best to escape the growing crowd. But Pepa was something of an enigma. You knew she was there because of the fruits of her labors were displayed for all to see, and yet she was never where you thought she would be. Her schedule was fixed and yet constantly changing based on whoever needed her and her gift.

But despite that fact, Félix had his fair share of encounters with her, even if she never realized it at the time. Even as a child, he knew that she was different compared to her siblings. Unlike them, her gift wasn’t as straight forward as theirs. There seemed to be a lot of experimentation involved with her magical talent. Julieta could cook or bake anything and result would still be the same as long she willed it. Even food that she had accidently burned or undercooked would still heal people. Granted it wasn’t the best of outcomes, but it still got the job done. As for Bruno, all he needed was a wide open space with the proper conduits and he was fine. His visions weren’t influenced by the environment or whoever bore witness to them. Instead, they were specifically tailored for the individual who requested it. Nothing else needed to be done.

And then there was Pepa, someone whose gift was more reliant on her rather than on who needed her ability. If someone wanted her to water the fields, that didn’t mean she could do it just because they said so. Rather, she needed a way to make herself conduct those rainfalls. But that lead to the most important question: how did she make herself feel the emotions that set the proper conditions for the weather? That was something he could only guess as he caught glimpses of her performing her duties to their home. And what he saw both intrigued yet disheartened him. He would watch as the child literally forced herself to experience every single emotion within the span of minutes just so the people would be satisfied.

She would whisper things that would make her feel sad like how she got her new dress wet too quickly, or how that book she had invested so much time into ended. Rain had been the result of such efforts, just enough water to nourish the crops. But too much could become a problem, so she had to think of something that made her happy like how Julieta had cooked her favorite meal for her that morning or how Bruno had allowed for her to play dress up with him. The sun had risen and granted the plant life the energy they needed to thrive. However, she needed remind herself that a lot of sun could do more harm than good, so she had switch it up again. Wind was needed to set a strong foundation for the growing seedlings. And so, she made herself a nervous wreck as she contemplated a time where her mother had disapproved of her actions, and made her promise to do better. She spoke about how she wasn’t enough to strengthen their home. Such thoughts gave birth to gusts of wind that assisted the crops with their growth. This was a routine she would repeat time and time again, how could someone have such control over their emotions and yet still not be in control?

All in all, Félix had seen enough that day to realize that people took Pepa Madrigal for granted. They either didn’t see what she went through, or they just didn’t truly understand how difficult it could be to master such a gift. But without a doubt Pepa was doing her best, and she did for the sake of their home. He saw her in a new light, and learned to appreciate both her actions and her. To him, she was probably the strongest out of her siblings. She was always trying to find a way to keep it all together even when faced with constant demands and requests. That was her burden, something she would later confess to him when they started their courtship. He confirmed her admission, yet admitted that it was something that made him fall in love with her over and over again. Everything about Pepa captivated him, both the good and the bad. He had come to appreciate and love her for her rather than what she could provide.

Now if only everyone else could see what he saw whenever he gazed upon the Madrigals. To him, they were the picture of a blessed family that came at a cost, a series of sacrifices that had to be given in order to maintain peace. Through his wife had come to see how an empathic talent didn’t allow for her to express herself as freely as she would have liked. Too much or too little emotion could possibly do unintentional damage. And it also because of her than he viewed his in-laws differently too. Because if she had such burdens, then what was stopping them from having their share of it too?

Julieta was always out to be the responsible one, the person who had to keep everything and everyone grounded. She was pretty much another parent to not just her siblings but to the Encanto as well. Every single morning she had to get an early start just to ensure that she had enough food for the day. When she received her gift, she had to focus her efforts on providing healthy yet delicious meal for her family three times a day: breakfast, lunch, and dinner. On top of that, she had to serve enough good for those who were in need of healing within her community. And her duties didn’t just stop there either, Julieta was also in charge of providing catering to special events such as weddings, quinceañeras, birthdays, baby showers, and whatever else the community had planned. He recalled his sister-in-law silently dreading those days, for she had to produce thrice as much food for those days. Enough for her family, the Encanto, and the event. Overall, it was no wonder the woman seemed to have more defined gray hairs compared to her siblings.

Which is why he was more than grateful for his brother-in-law Agustín. The two men shared a bond that stemmed from their status as a Madrigal spouse, someone who had to further the line while providing support to those born within it. The younger man, although clumsy and accident prone, provided a good outlet for Julieta. He balanced her out, and always seemed to find ways to brighten up her day. It was obvious his mother-in-law disapproved of him, for she just couldn’t understand why her perfect daughter would choose such an imperfect man. That’s where Agustin’s burdens stemmed from, much like everyone else, he was trying to live up the example the Madrigals set. He always tried to prove himself to their mother-in-law, even after all these years. He wanted to show her that his wife hadn’t made a mistake in choosing him to be her spouse. He found ways to contribute to their community through various chores, much like him, but the end results could be mixed depending on the circumstances he found himself in. What could he say, the man was more accident prone than Bruno. However, even with nature working against him, Alma couldn’t deny the role he played in making Julieta happy. And if a Madrigal was happy then that meant a more positive outcome for the Encanto. However, even with Agustín at her side, there was no doubt that for Julieta, it was a never-ending cooking session.

Then there was Bruno, someone who didn’t like crowds and yet had a gift that attracted them. There was always a burden placed on him to fit in with everyone else, to make a vision that would please the individual, and give them hope. Instead, everyone failed to realize that just because they lived in a paradise, doesn’t mean they were invincible. Bad things could happen at anytime and anyplace, isn’t that something the elders should have learned from the destruction of their first home? Besides, Félix knew the kind of visions Bruno crafted, and compared to what his padres, and the first inhabitants of the Encanto went through, they were nothing. They were just simple inconveniences that honestly could have been prevented had the individual taken the proper steps to avoid them. After all, a vision’s purpose was to warn people not create a self-fulfilling prophecy, but they didn’t see it like that. Instead, they viewed it as a way to prevent themselves for taking responsibility for their own mistakes. For example, Señora Osma was guilty of forgetting what time she needed to feed her pet fish. In all honesty, she had always been labeled as a forgetful one even as a child. She probably wasn’t best suited to care for a pet. Señor Ortiz, while attempting to go on a diet several times in the past, always ended up giving into his cravings. Working in confectionery probably wasn’t the best profession for him, seeing as how some of the product ended up going to him. Whatever the case, if he was as determined and persistent as his hardworking family, maybe he would lose a few pounds. And Señor Flores just came from bad genes, the men in their family typically went bald during their youth. He had seen it happen to his father, brother, and nephew, he should have just accepted that it was a part of life and nothing to be ashamed of, there were a handful of bald men in their community. Overall, people should have learned that maybe the problem wasn’t with Bruno, but with themselves.

And last, but not least, there was the woman at the head of it all… Alma Madrigal, the matriarch who dedicated every day of her life to preserving their miracle. While she remained a closed book to everyone, even her own family, there was no denying that she had her fair share of burdens as well. Burdens that carried a heavier influence compared to the rest, because if something affected Alma, it affected all of them as well. This was a woman who watched helplessly as her birthplace went up in flames, a woman who didn’t have the chance to properly heal from her labor or spoil her newborn children, a woman who had no choice but to stand by as her husband was struck down, and a woman who was granted a miracle that was supposed to be as strong as the love she held for her family and the Encanto. With all of this in mind, Félix had regarded her in a different light compared to the other Madrigal relatives, something not even his wife could claim. After all, she was only a newborn when the world came crashing down. But Félix, even though he was a mere youngling at the time, still remembered the events of that day… the important parts at least… the parts that had given birth to what they had now. Well, what they did have. And maybe that’s why he hadn’t done more to stop Alma when it came to her treatment of their kin. He allowed himself to become to her faults to a degree simply because he felt sorry for what she had to experience in order to gain their miracle. Plus, she was a living reminder of what could happen if they didn’t protect all that they had. And the last thing Félix wanted was return to such dark times. He had come to accept that the Madrigal family had been united in their purpose to strengthen their home.

However, for all of her strengths, Félix couldn’t deny that Alma was the type of person to never see burdens for what they truly were. Rather she would refer to them as “blessings” because a Madrigal was not defined by such negativity. Which was a factor in their current situation, Alma just didn’t want to admit that their family had problems just like everyone else, and that maybe some of those problems stemmed from the gifts they had been given. But even with the knowledge he had acquired from his wife and in-laws, it couldn’t prepare him enough for the next generation. He didn’t realize how the burdens would extend like the cracks had, their ugly fingers hooking themselves into the children he had sired and the nieces he had inherited.

And speaking of nieces, one of them was missing for that very reason. The burdens became too much for her. They had caused her to crack and break… just like Casita.

“Mirabel!” he shouted.

He let out a strong cough after that exclamation, he was sure his throat would be sore when this was all over. Even for someone who had been deemed the life of the party, he wasn’t used to using his voice in such a manner or for so long. But nevertheless, he was persistent, for they had come too far to turn back now. He panted a little as she strode forward, all the while making sure that his eldest child was still with him. The last thing he wanted was to lose yet another loved one at this point. But thankfully, she seemed to have no problem keeping up with him as he could always hear the familiar sounds of her docile yet quick footsteps. Which is more than he could say for her, even after everything, the poor child seemed to be convinced that she could still hear far beyond her reach. Every now and again he could catch a glimpse of her putting her hands against her ears. However, after several seconds, she would only shake her head as her shoulders slumped in defeat. Her expression was the definition of disappointment.

Félix Madrigal may have been a strong man, but not even he was immune to the sight of his family in pain. At that very thought, his mind wandered to his missing niece as he replayed the events that had led to her disappearance. He recalled the expression on her face as Alma hurled hurtful accusations towards her. He watched as a formerly proud and hopeful look slowly became despondent with every word Alma had spoken. Félix always considered himself to be an understanding person, especially concerning his mother-in-law, but even he knew when to draw the line. He knew that Alma viewed Mirabel differently compared to her other grandchildren, but to actually blame her for all the events that had transpired was absolutely inexcusable. Félix felt guilty for allowing such a heated encounter to occur, especially with someone as innocent as Mirabel. Normally he was pretty good at being outspoken when the situation called for it, but that whole interaction had left him stunned. He had no idea Alma thought so negatively of Mirabel, especially when the events she was describing weren’t within her control.

Even though he had never actually seen the cracks before they became too obvious to ignore, he had an idea that had been taking shape for some time now. After all, if there was one thing he came to learn during his time in Casita, it’s that the house seemed to reflect the family’s status. Whenever they were in a certain state of mind, the areas would shift to suit the group’s disposition. So he began to question whether or not the burdens were starting to be expressed through Casita as compensation for the family’s inability to express them themselves. However, he wouldn’t have the time to voice such a theory as everything occurred far too fast for him to do so.

When Bruno disappeared, he never considered the idea that it was somehow Mirabel’s fault. She was only a child! Yes he was aware of the possibility that Bruno had left because of a vision that pertained to the miracle’s status, but he never gave it too much mind simply because there was no solid proof. That and the fact that Alma had ordered for everyone to stay away from her missing son’s room, so it’s not like he had a choice in the matter. When Alma gave an order, everyone was conditioned to follow it. But then the dinner had occurred, Félix slapped his face as he recalled how disastrous that event had turned out. And he was ashamed to admit the role he played for that outcome. If Alma should have been blaming anyone for ruining Isabela’s engagement it was them, his family and him had been the ones to start the domino effect not Mirabel. True she had discovered the vision, but Agustín had only been trying to protect his daughter by keeping it a secret until the time was right. However, he felt guilty knowing that he couldn’t contain himself, he should have waited to tell Pepa and he most certainly shouldn’t have been so obvious with his reaction. He didn’t have any other reason for doing what he did other than he was afraid for what could befall his family if they weren’t warned of the possible danger. When Camilo’s whispered Dolores’s findings into his ear, all he could focus on was the past.

The burning buildings. The petrifying screams. The color red. The bodies falling. The small moment of peace. The water’s currents. The gallops of the horses. The running. The blood. The silencing scream.

That’s what happened when he lost everything the first time. And the possibility of it happening again had guided his actions. When he was younger the one thing he hated about that day was that no one had warned them. No one had alerted his village to the dangers that were coming to take their legacy away from them. Everyone was forced to find out by themselves, with the signs only becoming more and more obvious until it was too late. That’s why he had felt the need to warn the others, but he failed to understand the cost of such caution. He had thrown Mirabel into a bad spotlight with his choice, something he would never forgive himself for. She was his family too, so such a need to protect all that he had should have applied to her as well. And now he felt as if he understood another side of Alma. He wondered how many times she never took her actions into proper consideration. Did she truly not realize the damage her measures could cause until it was too late?

As for Luisa and Isabela, he couldn’t speak about the events that had transpired between them and Mirabel for Alma to say such things, but he didn’t believe the teenager would ever do anything to hurt her sisters. She looked up to them, partially worshiped them despite their obvious differences, and she always tried to live by their example. Which is why Félix just couldn’t believe that they were losing their powers because of Mirabel. And most importantly, Mirabel had never shown bitterness towards her hermanas or primos to warrant such harsh allegations. She had always expressed pride over the fact that she was related to them and that they were able to serve their community. Which is why she had always done her best to show everyone that she was just as much of a Madrigal as them.

However, realizations didn’t come in a timely manner. He should have done more to support his niece in the same way he had for Pepa and their children. He hadn’t been there for her when he truly needed someone to be by her side. Even now he didn’t blame the child for how she reacted to Alma’s accusations. As far as he was concerned, she had every right to be angry at them. Félix should have known that if anyone was no stranger to burden it was her. Sometimes it was easy to forget such a fact simply because he was surrounded by more obvious burdens. She didn’t experience the horrors of the outside world like Alma and him. She didn’t have to be constantly producing food like Julieta. She didn’t have to keep her emotions in line like Pepa. She didn’t have to always be looking into the future like Bruno. She didn’t have to constantly be on guard like Agustín. She didn’t have to be stuck being perfect like Isabela. She didn’t have to be continually hearing things like Dolores. She didn’t have be strong like Luisa. She didn’t have to be someone else like Camilo. And she didn’t have to be worried like Antonio.

Félix slapped his face yet again, he couldn’t believe he had allowed himself to become so blind to it all. He had become no better than Alma at this point. He could only imagine how Pedro Madrigal would have felt knowing that the family he gave up his life for had ended up like this. He never had the pleasure of knowing the man personally other than a few glimpses, but he knew for a fact that he would have been more than disappointed. Much like Alma, Félix had allowed himself to forget what had given them their paradise, what had made them worthy of their miracle. It wasn’t their magic or their dedication to the community, but rather, it was the love they had for one another. Pedro had died for his family, Alma had devoted her life to her children… in the end it all came down to that. That’s what made the miracle candle burn so brightly, and why their foundation hadn’t been as stable as they believed it to be. Endless love soon became replaced with a need for perfection.

After all, could you truly say that you loved someone or something if you only adored bits and pieces of them? The answer was no, you couldn’t.

Such a lesson was literally the structure of his relationship with Pepa. He had fallen in love with her by witnessing her experience both the good and the bad. If he said he only favored her sunny and rainbow dispositions, then he would be denying all that she was. It would be no different than telling her that she was only beautiful when she smiled or that she was only fun to be around when clear skies hovered above her. Pepa wasn’t the embodiment of eternal happiness and stability, as much as Alma would prefer her to be, and that was perfectly fine with him. True and unconditional love, like Pedro’s, meant standing by the people you adore through better or worse. And sometimes it took the bad events for you to experience the good ones.

Maybe that’s what this journey represented. Maybe everything had to happen the way it did in order for them to see the light once again. When Pedro Madrigal died, something broke inside Alma, something that never been tended to. As a result, she was forced to live through the pain of possessing a wound that hadn’t healed properly. And sometimes the only way to remedy an injury was to reset it, to break what had already been broken, and to cut away more than what had been taken. Pedro had been the one to start such a tradition and it had been Mirabel who had taken his place. She would inherit her grandfather’s burden, she would act as a catalyst for the good that was about to come. Félix didn’t know how or what would happen when they found her, but he was sure that she would mark the beginning of a new chapter for them all.

“Mirabel,” he whispered. “You are our miracle. You will be our light in this darkness.”

With that, he wiped the sweat from his brow and continued to trudge forward, now all the more determined to find the missing piece of their familia. He refused for this to be the end of their story. He would stop at nothing until Mirabel was by in the arms of their loved ones. Only this time, he made a promise to himself like he had all those years before, he wouldn’t allow for her to disappear just like Pedro had. They would bring her back and they would strengthen their home the right way… the way it should have been.

However, before he could repeat his call for his missing sobrina, something else garnered his attention. The familiar sound of his daughter’s squeak. He turned around just in time to bear witness to Dolores fumble, her foot getting caught on a hefty root. He was more than quick to react as he grabbed ahold of her hand before placing his own against her back. The young woman had clearly been caught off guard as the father of three could practically feel the hectic vibrations of her beat. Her body swayed a little, but he never loosened his grip, as she did her best to find her balance. Félix maneuvered her away from the protruding root and scanned the area for a place to rest. He refused to keep going when there was a possibility than his child could be injured. Thankfully, fortune seemed to be shining on them as he managed to locate several pieces of smooth rock at the side of some brush. Without anything needing to be said between them, the father ushered his daughter to the quiet area. She didn’t put up a fight as she was gently placed onto the makeshift seat. As soon as she was settled the man took the liberty of inspecting her foot. He carefully rotated it from side to side, while his fingers cautiously prodded the skin. He let out a sigh of relief as there was no sign of obvious trauma, just a small scuff mark.

“That was quite the ride huh mija?” he questioned, his tone clearly trying to lighten the mood.

Even in the toughest of times, Félix couldn’t help but attempt to insert some positivity into the situation. It was something his padres had done their best to instill into him when they acquired their new home. He had always appreciated the efforts they took to ensure he held onto the innocence and wonderment of childhood. They claimed that it would help him get through life’s worst moments. When he became a parent himself, he tried to carry on that legacy with his own children. He taught them the importance of smiling and how the littlest of laughs can give birth to magic itself. It was something he recalled Mirabel accomplishing upon the day of her birth, for she had been the first baby to ever perform both tasks within the span of minutes after her arrival into the world.

However, he had been more than disheartened with the outcome. Instead of cracking a small smile and crafting a contagious giggle like she always did whenever he did his best to humor her, Dolores just remained still. Her gaze was fixed on nothing, and Félix noticed how her eyes seemed to be clouded as they no longer held the shine that made them so endearing. Her expression was dull, something that didn’t match his eldest at all. Even though she was well-known for her quiet nature, she was by no means emotionless. What she didn’t speak, she often told through her expressions. She claimed it was something she learned through her gift.

Dolores seemed to have learned a lot of things because of her gift, things that didn’t just apply to simple gossip and delivering messages. When you spend so much time being the observer, you realize that people communicate using more than just their words. Their bodies had the ability to act as conduits for the things they just couldn’t give life to through their voices. If anything her parents had been the first to unknowingly introduce such a lesson, even before she acquired her gift. She would watch as her mother went through various emotions a day. And even though she would claim that she might have been feeling a certain way, the weather hovering above her head would prove otherwise. Wide eyes would indicate that something was on her mind, pouty lips meant that she was annoyed or frustrated, a sway in her movements would mean that she was happy, and if her hands were ever running along her braid, you better look out. Then there was her father, a man who proved that expressions and body language could really influence those around them. Whenever her father entered the room, people just couldn’t help but bask in the invisible glow that emitted from him. His presence was contagious and never failed to make everyone’s day. It certainly worked for her mother and grandmother.

They may have been the first teachers, but the main one would introduce itself on the day of her fifth birthday. Doors had been opened for her that day, both in a literal and metaphorical sense. Long before her birth everyone’s wishes for the second generation were obvious, it was their hope that the magical blessings would grow like a mighty tree. Her grandfather had planted the seed, while her grandmother had formed the roots and trunk, and their children had formed the beginning of the branches. With the aid of the men who married into the family, those branches had been given the chance to spread. And now it was up to her older prima, Isabela, and her to live up to such expectations. For they acted as the beginning of a new set of branches, the start of the next chapter.

Isabela had been the first to perform their magical ritual, all the while Dolores and her primita, Luisa, stood at the sidelines. They watched as the eldest Madrigal grandchild was greeted warmly by their grandmother, she would never forget the look of pure adoration and love on the woman’s face as Isabela touched that candle. It was an expression every Madrigal child would do their best to earn for themselves, with some succeeding more than others. Isabela’s future and status as the golden child was forever cemented that day, both on her door and in the eyes of their community. But most importantly, in the eyes of their grandmother. Dolores only had one wish that day, she hoped that she too would be on the receiving end of such a look when it came time for her to have her gift ceremony. For that expression spoke louder than any words.

Sure enough, several weeks later, it was her turn. A white dress with golden accents had been tailored for her that day, with a matching bow and a pair of shoes to top it all off. The outfit differed vastly from Isabela’s, for no ceremony attire would never be the same, much like the children in their family. That day was probably the last time Dolores felt so special, it was a moment where she was the center of attention in the eyes of her community and her relatives. All of the focus would be on her for a change, rather than on the favored child. Yes it sounded a little selfish, but when you constantly lived in the shadow of another, you’ll take any moment you can get where the roles are reversed. Everyone was more than eager to discover what kind of magical talent awaited her, and they wondered what kind of duty she would be assigned. How would Dolores Madrigal strengthen their home?

She would never forget that moment where the lights shined upon her as she made her way to the door that had been crafted just for her. Its glow swirled with a beautiful golden hue, and a warmth unlike any other emitted from it. Soon it would hold her name and destiny. Her eyes made their way to the miracle candle, her eyes wandered to her Abuela’s, and her heart skipped a beat once she realized that the expression she had yearned for was being directed towards her. Nothing could ever compared to what she felt in that moment, at least that’s what she believed at the time. Once she confirmed her vows for their home, she walked towards her future. With baited breath, the small hand gently touched the surface of the doorknob engraved with her first initial. As soon as she did so, a new life was given to it. Within seconds her image appeared onto the golden surface along with her name and her gift. And it was soon revealed what it was the moment the words starting pouring into her ears. Whispers suddenly became more apparent as sounds were highlighted, the whole world seemed to be bouncing between her ears.

It hurt! Turn it down! Everyone please just turn it down!

That had been her initial reaction, much to the confusion of everyone. Her body became a little weak as her hands worked their way to block the noises. She let out a few small whimpers as she backed away from the door. Thankfully, her parents had been more than quick to react to her sudden distress as Félix took her into his arms as Pepa ran a hand along her back. They did their best to soothe their daughter as Alma directed her attention to the door, clearly wondering what could have possessed the child to react in such a manner. Her hands glided across the golden surface as her eyes scanned the details. That was when she realized what had occurred. After several minutes, the matriarch turned her focus back to the crowd, including her second granddaughter. She guessed that the child must have been given enhanced hearing as her gift, which is why she was more than overwhelmed at the moment. However, she quickly asked for everyone to settle down and be silent, so that they could confirm the suspicion. Everyone followed Alma’s orders as the old woman made her way to the child. She leaned forward and took her face into her palms.

Alma, with a gentle and quiet tone, asked for Dolores to settle down and focus on nothing else other than her. Dolores, being just as confused as before, merely nodded her head. She didn’t want to disappoint her beloved grandmother, for everyone worked to make her proud. The Madrigal matriarch silenced her daughter and son-in-law as they tried to expressed their concerns for their child. Instead, she took Dolores’s hands into her own as she motioned for the child to follow her. Dolores did as she was told, but not without some obvious hesitation. Thankfully though her order seemed to have worked to a degree, for no one spoke, but Dolores could still hear the sounds that surrounded them. Try as she might but not even Abuela could do anything about that. However, she chose to focus her attention onto her grandmother as she was lead back to her door. Alma asked for her to open it, so that her gift could be confirmed.

Dolores Madrigal, the ever so dutiful child, followed her instructions as she allowed herself to see what lied behind that magical door. Despite the shock she experienced earlier, she couldn’t help but be captivated by the magic slowly crafting a room best suited for her. Immediately, she was met by a series of gentle sounds. Soft rain, soothing rivers, cheerful birds, fire crackling, crickets chirping, and the tender strings of an assortment of instruments played all around her. A calming atmosphere awaited her, she could feel it, but more importantly, she could hear it. And so, her curiosity guided her into her new room, with everyone else slowly making their way inside as well. Dolores and everyone stood in awe as they were shown the latest addition to Casita. A large room adorned with wooden floors, surrounded by an assortment of colors that seemed to paint a scenery that belonged to nature itself, with areas decorated with gentle waterfalls and calming plants, and an assortment of beautifully lit candles greeted her. Terraces were spotted all over the place, their structure created from the very same wood that formed her floors, and a variety of pillows were settled onto their surfaces, creating comfy seats for all to enjoy. And in the middle of it all was a chamber dedicated to Dolores’s needs, including a bed, several pieces of furniture, and an assortment of stringed instruments. Dolores couldn’t help but let out several squeaks of excitement when she saw what was now in her possession, there was nothing she loved more than the sounds those musical objects created. Along the bed were curtains that resembled wind chimes, their elegant tunes welcomed her with different lullabies. Even the furniture itself seemed to possess sound wave motifs, something that would also adorn her person when her new outfit would be prepared. However, the one thing she would come to love the most about her room was that it was completely soundproof. When she was inside its welcoming boundaries, she couldn’t hear the outside world and whoever was in there with her sounded normal, not amplified like they would be on the other side.

It was confirmed, that day Dolores Madrigal had been gifted with enhanced hearing. And that day would also define what her duty to the Encanto would be. Abuela Alma had declared that she would strengthen their home by acting as its most important messenger. She would give a voice to their people. Her grandmother’s eyes beamed with such pride once she announced that, clearly more than pleased with the outcome of her ceremony. It all sounded like a dream, one where she could finally shine as brightly as the one who came before her. She had finally joined their magical constellation.

In the beginning it was nothing more than letting her relatives know when and where they were wanted. Her mother’s gift was needed at several fields, Luisa had to assist with rounding up the donkeys, Tío Bruno must use his gift to craft a vision for so and so’s birthday, and someone wanted to speak with her grandmother concerning the plans to build a house for a newly married couple. But it later evolved into something entirely new. After all, she could hear everything and anything, and as a result, she seemed to know everything about everything. After she acquired her gift, she started to become more knowledge about the people who inhabited her home. For example, the civilians often came to her for questions concerning their loved ones. Whether it was trying to decide what kind of present would be best for a special occasion or wanting to know if their plans interfered with anyone’s schedule, she was more than happy to answer them. And then there came the more interesting cases, like when a child wandered too far away from the adults or when an elderly person fell and there was no one else around to help them, she was on the case. However, if she had to choose what aspect of her gift thrilled her the most it’s that she was always up to date with the gossip that surrounded her community.

Yes, call her chismosa, but for as long as she could remember, she had always been the source of gossip in her family. But back then it was nothing more than child’s play, things that the adults knew more about compared to her. The grown-ups would merely humor her as the children looked at her in awe, clearly impressed with her knowledge. However, after she acquired her gift, the roles were now switched. Now she was the one who knew more than both the children and the grown-ups. Like how Señora Guzmán seemed to consider Abuela Alma as her rival, or how Señor Ortiz always had a piece of cake as a side dish for breakfast, or how Tío Bruno had named all of his pet rats and had them perform dramatic stage plays. Things like this would never fail to get a chuckle out of her, she couldn’t deny that they had brought some joy to her. When moments like this happened, sometimes it was easy to forget about the secrets she forced herself to hide.

There were times where she was at her final straw, moments where she silently declared that her power was hardly a blessing at all. Heeding to everybody's call, was there a line that she could draw?

After all, she didn’t seem to possess the ability to block out what entered her ears. As stated before, she came to learn a lot about the community, perhaps even more so than she would have liked. Sometimes what they had to say could be very unpleasant, especially when it concerned her family. She couldn’t count the times where people would compare a Madrigal grandchild to the original number one, Isabela. No matter how hard the others worked, no one could match her. Needless to say that such sentiments made Dolores feel unworthy of their cause, and they were comments she would never express to the others in fear of hurting them. Sometimes it was better to just stay silent and bear the brunt of the world in place of others. Or how people seemed to regard her beloved Tío Bruno as nothing more than a bad omen, someone you should avoid rather than approach. Which she found to be hypocritical seeing as how it was the people who were asking for visions, not the other way around. She couldn’t help but gravitate to the man because of this. She felt a certain kinship to him compared to the other adults, for their efforts to help their family went unappreciated and were often misunderstood. 

And don’t get her started on the things people did whenever they thought no one was looking, but she sure could hear them. They were actions that could be deemed as very questionable or at least should have been kept private. That’s how she learned that girls and boys undergo certain transitions as they get older, the oh so wonderful birds and the bees talk. Dolores just caught herself blushing as she did her best to cover her ears and hide her face in shame. Second hand embarrassment was not an uncommon thing for her to experience on a day to day basis. And if it wasn’t that sort of talk, there were other things that tended to make her feel awkward. Be it a person who was planning on breaking off their years long relationship, or an individual who didn’t tell their loved one that they accidentally dropped their toothbrush into the toilet and put it back without rinsing it, or a child who stole a precious heirloom from their parents, it could be too much at times. Especially when it got to a point where Dolores didn’t know what information people could and couldn’t live without. Abuela Alma always told her that every single detail was important, and that her gift had given a voice to the smallest of matters. Which is how she gained the reputation of being the gossip both within her family and in the community, people seemed to be more careful with their words whenever they knew she was around, and even when she wasn’t. She couldn’t blame them for such caution, especially when she became accustomed to just blurting out whatever she had learned about an individual.

And honestly, she would come to understand how playing such a part was better than playing no part at all. She had found a way to stand out from the magical Madrigals. At least everyone knew who she was, at least they were are of what her duties entailed, and at least she could say that she had a gift. Which is more than what some people could say. Speaking of said people, her thoughts wandered to the individual who became lost in their shining constellation. And not for the typical reasons either, it was not because their gift had differed vastly from the rest or was similar in some way to the others. Rather it was because they didn’t have a magical talent to call their own in the first place. Dolores’s eyes closed as she contemplated how her position within the family ended up hurting someone she loved. Her primita… her Mirabel. 

When a Madrigal child is conceived, a new door appears overnight, aligned with their branch of the family. The door would be blank until the time came for its occupant to take their place within its endless boundaries. But until then they were placed in the room they called the Nursery, a delicate space devoted to a child’s early development. Like a seed, they would spread their roots within those green walls until it was time for them to pop out of the soil, such a milestone would occur the moment they laid their hand upon that doorknob and their destiny would be imprinted on that golden surface. And in time, they would grow into a marvelous piece dedicated to strengthening their home. 

Dolores had bore witness to several ceremonies over the years, each of them yielding different results but somehow always remaining the same. And with each gift ritual, she came to believe how much less she did for the community compared to the other shining stars. Even without Isabela around, she was still in someone’s shadow. Her madre had the ability to aid in the growth of livestock and ensure the weather was set at the right conditions. Tía Julieta could heal what was broken without even having to glance at a medical book. Tío Bruno was given the chance to gaze into the future and see what possible outcomes awaited an individual. 

And those were just the adults, the people who set a foundation for the rest to follow. In a way she knew she could never truly live up the standards they have crafted simply because they had been doing more than her since before she was even born. But such reasoning didn’t apply to her primas and hermanos. She was literally born the same year as the first miracle of her generation and yet still hadn’t amounted to much compared to her. As for her other prima, Luisa, the young woman could practically hold the weight of the world on her shoulders without even breaking a sweat. Not a single day went by without someone needing her help in some way, something her grandmother was more than proud of. When her first hermano had been born she knew that Abuela Alma was looking for her to set an example for him, as she was the first born child of their branch. However, such a task was soon erased the moment Camilo mastered his gift. Their grandmother realized that the boy had inherited their father’s endless charisma and charming wits. As a result, the matriarch felt as if the he was setting more of a proper example compared to her. She didn’t have to say it aloud in order for Dolores to know that, her body language had been more than enough to realize that. 

That gaze, the very same one that had been given to every child when they touched that candle, it was always directed towards the more obvious of the bunch. But she had only been on the receiving of it a handful of times, and it was only when Abuela came to her, not the other way around like Isabela, Luisa or Camilo. It was something that stung the second Madrigal granddaughter, but it was also something she learned to live with as well. 

Then Mirabel was born, she made her grand entrance into the world on March 6th, within months of Camilo. Because of this fact, Dolores couldn’t help but wonder if her new primita would fall into the shadow of her hermano just like she had. Luisa on gotten off easy since she had been the only child born within her year, which is more than she could say for the triplets, and Isabela and her. However, such doubts had been casted aside the moment she heard the hushed voices of the grown-ups, during a time where the older children had been ushered to bed after they had the chance to meet the latest addition to their family.

Dolores, being the ever so curious child, had managed to sneak away long enough to get one last peak of the new baby. Through doors and through the cracks, she saw little Mirabel being cradled in the arms of her mother as her father sat that the side. The infant had been lulled to sleep after making such an exciting introduction, thus marking the beginning of a new chapter. The baby girl’s parents had expressions filled with endless love for the newborn. Tía Julieta’s body told the story of a woman who just experience the hardest of labors, literally. And yet despite that obviously challenging experience, the smile on her face never wavered. Tío Agustín looked just as exhausted as her, but his behavior was the perfect example of a man who had everything he could have ever wanted. A hand was placed on Julieta’s shoulder as the other was within Mirabel’s tiny palm, thus showing his pride and love for both people rather than just one. 

Mamá couldn’t help the drizzle gently falling all around her, it matched the tears that were pouring out of her eyes at the moment. However, despite that, a large rainbow was also shining above her, with a small hint of puffy white clouds. She knew her mother well enough to know that such conditions meant that she was more than elated with the newest arrival. As for Papá, his whole being was practically an open book. She knew that he was thrilled to have another life running around their house, a new sobrina that he could spoil just like his children and other nieces. All the while he held an umbrella over his and Camilo’s heads, something to keep out the rain, however light it might be. Her baby brother at the time was also asleep, his soft snores mixing with Mirabel’s as his head was buried into their father’s neck. 

Tío Bruno was huddled in a corner of the room, his face hidden as much as possible, despite showcasing it earlier. But Dolores knew that there was a method to his madness. He was covering his face to hide the fact that he was expressing his joy to his pet rats, he quietly whispered how adorable his new niece was and how he couldn’t wait to see the kind of young woman she would grow up to be. She let a small chuckle, despite his tendency to keep to himself and avoid the crowds, her uncle seemed to be an expert when it came to children. They gravitated to him, something that he just couldn’t explain. Apparently all of his nieces and nephew had clung to him at one point in their lives. Isabela had always crafted flower crowns for him and his rat companions before she got her gift. Bruno even took it a step further by allowing Isabela to give him makeovers, he had been trained in such an art thanks to his sisters constantly using him as a doll when they were children. Luisa used to beg him to play with her, something that became harder to deny after she received her magical ability. Dolores lost count of the times Luisa would carry him around to join her in her endeavors. As for Camilo, the boy seemed to consider Bruno’s hood as a nest. Whenever he held the baby boy, the mischievous infant always made his way into the pocket and seemed to command Bruno to lead the way with his babbles. It was a habit he wouldn’t outgrow even when he gained the ability to walk. Then there was her, her uncle and her seemed to share a common interest when it came to the world of fiction. He had told her that Pepa and him used to fall asleep while reading tales filled with drama and romance when they were younger. And it was a hobby he introduced to her the day she caught him reenacting scenes with his little animal friends. She would never forget how happy he looked to see someone share a common interest with him. The case had been true for Mirabel as well. When it had been his turn to meet the infant, the little girl cooed at him as her hands traced his beard. It was obvious that the newborn loved him already, and he shared such a sentiment.

And at the head of it all was none other than the matriarch, Abuela Alma. The old woman has a contented smile on her face as she gazed lovingly at her new granddaughter. Her hands held onto one another as her stance remained tall and firm. Dolores had come to recognize such behavior over the years, and the best way she could describe it was a mother jaguar guarding her progeny. Her expression may have been the picture of adoration, but her silent mannerisms proved that she was more than ready to defend her family. The elder Madrigal may have had her faults, but in that moment, her love for her kin was obvious. And she already seemed to hold the new baby with such high regard. Such a fact would only be cemented the day she overheard Abuela Alma talking to a miracle candle. It was a habit she tended to do during the late hours of the night, when she was sure everyone was in the confines of their rooms. But Dolores couldn’t resist knowing what the woman had to say to the magical object that carried their home. Besides, it was the only time she had ever heard anyone openly talk about her Abuelo Pedro. Everyone had regarded the topic as forbidden, simply because of the painful memories associated with the person. The only time it had been thoroughly discussed was the day of their gift ceremonies, and even then it was always the same story. The details never changed no matter who it was directed towards, not even Isabela could claim otherwise. With that in mind, she wanted to know more about the man who had given his life to ensure the safety of their family. Who was this hero portrayed in the tale of their miracle? Who had been the one to act as a light in their hour of darkness? Such an interest has guided her actions as she stood in the shadows and did what she did best. She waited and listened. 

She looks just like you Pedro.

She couldn’t believe her ears, and yet there was no mistake that it had been said. Upon further investigation, she learned that Alma considered Mirabel to be the child that resembled her late husband the most. This was a fact that had surprised her to say the least, seeing as how several other relatives seemed to possess traits that matched Pedro’s. Bruno was practically his spitting image just with longer hair. Julieta had her father’s eye color and structure. Even her little brother’s nose was identical to his. But apparently all of that failed to match with what she saw in Mirabel? The child had just been born and yet she was already making her mark on the family, she wasn’t sure that even Isabela could make such a claim. It seemed that yet another child was destined to outshine her, and they hadn’t even received a gift yet. Dolores could only imagine what fate had in store for the grandchild who appeared to capture Pedro’s likeness in precise detail. 

None of them could have possibly been prepared for what was going to happen during Mirabel’s gift ceremony. All this time Dolores had believed that the little girl would find a way to shine as brightly as the door that awaited her. She recalled the look on Abuela’s face the moment the child’s hands touched the candle’s surface. The deep pride she expressed as Mirabel agreed with the vows that had been passed onto her. Everything was all coming together… until something happened. Something truly heartbreaking. The shock and horror she felt as she watched that shine slowly fade into oblivion the moment Mirabel touched its handle was indescribable. But all of that paled in comparison to what she saw when she gazed upon their grandmother. Dolores couldn’t recall a time where the Madrigal matriarch looked so uncertain than she did in that moment. For once, the half she had worked hard to keep hidden all these years became apparent. The second eldest granddaughter saw a vulnerable side to her grandmother. Something she didn’t think was possible, and yet she had noticed the smallest of signs pointing to such a fact long before that event. She just didn’t want to admit that it could be true… because if Abuela was vulnerable, didn’t that apply to them too? However, her attention soon turned to Mirabel. Her heart ached as she watched her expression become filled with the same uncertainty that plagued their grandmother. But unlike Alma, there was also a hint of desperation on that small face. Desperation that stemmed from wanting to know if the Madrigal family would still love her even if she didn’t get a gift or a room. And Abuela just couldn’t provide an answer, because she didn’t seem to understand how communication could also be silent. 

Before Dolores had a chance to answer her primita’s quiet inquiry, that’s when the waves of confused whispers and terrified tones flooded her senses. The atmosphere had shifted as the celebration came to an end as the air became intense. Everything was heavy, the world had become unbalanced, and at the center of it all was Mirabel. Suddenly, she found it hard to breath, it was difficult to get a word out as she did her best to block out the negativity. Her body shook as the vibrations kept hitting her like an endless sea of rocks, each leaving a mental scar as she worked her way through the crowd. And within the deep depths of bewilderment, Dolores could have sworn that she heard the faint sound of a crack. 

Everything is way too loud, the roar of whispers in every crowd. She was so sick of all the noise right now… can someone please just turn it down?

She wouldn’t have time to dwell on such an observation as she made her way to her room, eager to turn everything down. She hid within the safe haven that was her room, a world out of reach from all the noises. Once everything had been rendered mute by her door and its invisible boundaries, she allowed herself to let it all go. A string of squeaks escaped her lips as the tears flowed down her face, staining her blouse and skirt in the process. Her hands ran through her hair, creating a disheveled picture filled with anguish. In that moment appearances and the standards of perfection didn’t matter anymore. Instead, Dolores chose to mourn for what had been lost, something she wasn’t sure could ever be returned. And if she wanted to, Dolores wasn’t sure what she could have done to help. After all, her gift was only useful as an observer and not a participant. Through doors and through the cracks, she always listened but never acted. And though she wished that she could just turn it back, the rumors were already speeding through a narrow track. She was just too weak, she was nothing like the other Madrigal grandchildren. She couldn’t help her primita in the way they could. Instead, she would resign herself to stay in the shadows, something she had been used to doing for so long now. And she would have to do what she did best, she waited and listened. For once, Dolores Madrigal didn’t know everything about everything. But she did learn several things during the aftermath of such travesty. Mirabel hadn’t gotten a gift, so she was forced to stay in the Nursery. And while Dolores couldn’t stand all the noise at times, it turns out there was something she couldn’t tolerate even more… and that was the silence. The once lively atmosphere of their Casita was suddenly replaced with an ear piercing silence. That didn’t match her home, and so she found herself often being away from the premises.

Which is how she became acquainted with the man of her dreams, someone who would supposedly be out of reach. Betrothed to another, as Bruno had told her all those years ago. Truthfully it was a vision she never gave any mind to simply because she was still too young to concern herself with real romance. She much preferred the courtships of literature, because at least in fiction, everything seemed to work out for the better. Most of the time, the girl got the boy, and the boy got the girl. So imagine her surprise when she heard his voice openly discussing such a topic. Mariano Guzmán, an individual she had met and interacted with a handful of times, was speaking in a manner similar to a poet. She didn’t think he was capable of possessing such a trait. While she couldn’t deny that he was a sweet soul, he was also a little naïve and childish as well, but in a good way. If her father was anything to go by, it was good to hold onto some of the innocence you had when you were young. It gave him a pep in his step, and allowed for him to view the world in a positive manner. And as he spoke, she could hear the familiar scratching of pen against paper, he was writing. Mariano Guzmán was a writer? And he appeared to like romance, just like her? That certainly caught her attention, she forced herself to try and focus on his voice in particular. She would come to learn more about the man who would claim her heart. Mariano had made it a habit of writing poetry every night before he went to sleep, apparently it was something that helped him get through the night without incident. 

He talked very loud, but still maintained a kind and approachable demeanor. He often tended to his mother and made sure she was comfortable first before he paid any attention to himself. The woman could always state how proud she was to have such a fine gentleman for a son, especially considering that his father had passed away during his early childhood. It seemed that was the source of his strong yet considerate disposition. She also learned what his hopes for the future were, such as finding a perfect wife that he could fawn over. Someone who would love him for him, and who would never forget to express it in the way he would never forget to remind her how much he loved her. And he wanted children, little lives that he could help mold into the best of people, beings that would dote on until the end of his days. She may have exaggerated the precise number during the initial discussion of the engagement, but he still wanted more than one child. Something she just couldn’t help but smile over. The man would make a wonderful husband and father, and anyone would be lucky to have the chance to be by his side. And that’s how she fulfilled the prophecy given her so long ago, for it wouldn’t be until later on that she discovered her Abuela’s intentions concerning the young man.

But at the time, it also helped give her an idea on how she could provide Mirabel support in her time of need. With that, Dolores hurried home and got to work. She pulled out as much paper as she could and gathered all the writing utensils she could find. Inspired by Mariano’s voice and her favorite works of fiction, she came to craft a piece of poetry that best suited the little girl. The child would be her muse. And even though she knew that openly discussing their deceased grandfather was forbidden, she could still hint how similar she was to the man, something their grandmother seemed hesitant to bring up for whatever reason. And so she would give life to that sentiment.

Weeks went by before she was sure she had done the best that she could, and it came at the perfect opportunity. Mirabel had started to finally come out of her room after a while, thanks in part of their relatives offering different methods of cheering her up. Now it had been her turn to soothe the child’s worries, something she had wished he had been able to do in the beginning. She gently took the girl’s hands into her own as she guided her to the safety of her room. They couldn’t be distracted while in there, all of the noises would be blocked out, so Dolores could focus all of her attention onto her primita. Because she had to be the star of the show, and Dolores Madrigal would prove just how special she was, how differently she shined compared to the rest. Mirabel looked more than confused at first, but seemed to accept the gesture as Dolores sat her down on her bed. The second eldest Madrigal cousin then pulled out the carefully folded paper, and soon revealed its contents to the individual. For once it felt like Mirabel had been the observer while she was the participant. After all, a Madrigal’s purpose was to help those around them, and to Dolores, that also applied to their family.

Through her words, Dolores gave Mirabel a voice. Abuela Alma had claimed that had been her purpose after all, to provide a voice for the littlest of matters. And what better example than Mirabel? She spoke sentences filled with passion and sincerity as she discussed how truly special the little girl was. She admired her sweet brown eyes, she adored the way her face was shaped, she fawned over the fact that she always possessed a curl that refused to be tamed, she claimed that her glasses seemed to hold all the secrets of the world, she had the desire to kiss every single freckle that had adorned her face, she savored the moments they shared together, she relished over the fact that she bore a resemblance to those who came before… and most importantly, she declared that she loved Mirabel for who she was. And the entire time she read her words aloud, Dolores’s face and body spoke of the affection she held for the littlest Madrigal. Mirabel may have not been an expert in all types of languages like she was, but that didn’t mean it didn’t matter. Dolores wished to showcase just how important it was to her for Mirabel to believe her statements.

Needless to say that by the time her reading came to an end, Mirabel was reduced to tears. The child did her best to wipe away the small droplets and clear her glasses, but it hadn’t been enough. And Dolores didn’t even try to stop her from expressing how she felt in that moment. Over the years she had learned from her mother on how to keep it all in, especially when she seemed capable of holding all the information in the world. And through her father, she learned how important it was to never forget how to smile towards those who needed it the most. That’s when Dolores did the one thing she did best, she gathered the little girl into her arms and listened. The youngest Madrigal grandchild continued to cry as she buried her face into the safety of Dolores’s blouse, her words were incoherent at first but slowly she gave life to them as well. Mirabel and her had spent the entire day in her room just talking about everything that had happened, how it made them feel, and how they wondered what kind of destiny awaited them in the future. And while no one could provide the proper answers, that didn’t stop them from talking. They would listen to one another without any judgement or interruption, all of the attention was where it needed to be. In that moment, nothing else mattered, only the bond they shared together. That’s how it was meant to be, that’s how it should have been.

But it wasn’t.

Much like the rest of the Madrigals, Dolores would soon forget where her loyalties should have lied. She got so caught up in the moments that would pass after that day, that didn’t remember that Mirabel still needed her. Because deep down, she was still that little girl who watched her future fade along with that door. She was still the child who needed to be reminded of how loved she was. The second eldest grandchild just shook her head as she contemplated the special memories that could have been made between the two had she allowed herself to defy the expectations that had been placed on her. At the end of the day, despite all that she wished, Dolores couldn’t deny that a deep part of her yearned to be on the receiving end of pride and appreciation. She had desired to come out of the shadowed and be recognized for who she was rather than who she could be compared to. Perhaps that’s why she had given Mirabel a hint on where she should start her journey on saving the magic. She just couldn’t stand at the side while there was a possibility her home was in danger. Maybe that’s why she had lied about Mariano’s desire for having five children, she wanted Isabela to be aware of what she getting herself into if she chose to keep lying to herself about the matter. It wouldn’t be fair to either of them if they were stuck in a loveless marriage just for the sole purpose of adding more magical blessings to their community. And both of these events had most likely influenced the way she acted during the proposal dinner. She thought that she was helping her family bit instead it only seemed to make the cracks in their foundation more obvious, and at the center of it all was Mirabel. She hadn’t meant to throw her to the mercy of their relatives, she just wanted to do what she thought she could to save their family. After all, no one had taught her the other ways she could serve their community other than being the messenger.

Alas, such a role had hurt someone she loved. Dolores understood why Mirabel would think that she didn’t care for her, despite that not being true. However, it’s not like she gave Mirabel a reason to think otherwise, especially when there had been other occurrences that led to their estrangement. For all of her advantages when it came to communication, Dolores couldn’t deny that she wasn’t exactly a master of the craft either. She was aware of the steps, but not how to work them herself. Which is why she tended to just blurt things out, especially when distressed, or how she couldn’t read the room at times, which is what caused her to speak so nonchalantly about some matters. Those were the reasons people choose to be wary of her despite all of the things she did for them, and maybe that’s why Mirabel had every reason not to trust her. In the end Dolores thought she was doing her best for her family, but it turns out she was doing the exact opposite of that. She found it ironic how she had received what she most truly desired, but at a serious cost. The silence had returned once more, only this time, Dolores wasn’t sure it would ever come to an end. Because without her gift, she couldn’t find the person needed to strengthen their home… strengthen it in the way it truly mattered.

Finally, after all this time, Dolores found her voice once more and gave life to her hidden feelings for the first time.

“I wish someone would turn it up.”