Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Now…

Mirabel woke with the sun peeking through the slats in the window shade just as she did every morning. She cracked her eyes open, half expecting the tiles and walls to shudder in greeting before remembering that she was not in Casita and had not been for a long time. That thought still sent a pang of longing through her, but it was a fleeting feeling, one quickly replaced by the warmth of the bodies pressed against her.

She quirked a small smile as she glanced at her husband, his dusky face slack with sleep. Guillermo had gotten in late from his restaurant and could do little more than slip away to slumber, not bothering to complain about their daughter sleeping with them instead of in her own bedroom. Mirabel hadn’t quite figured out how to deny her little girl this one request whenever she asked for it, especially when there were storms.

(Mirabel had stopped going to her parents when nighttime terrors sprouted in the darkness. She feared someone would see her walking around past her bedtime and she’d get in trouble with Abuela. She so wanted to be perfect in Alma’s eyes, just like her hermanas and primos. She stayed in bed those nights, her fear so palpable she could taste it. Casita would gently rock her bed and click her tiles comfortingly until the young girl fell asleep.)

Isadora was wide awake and staring at Mirabel. She had likely been doing that for a while. It baffled Mirabel why children did such things, watched their parent sleep as if the force of their glare would rouse them.

“Buenos dias, mi bebe linda,” she greeted quietly so she didn’t disturb Gui.

Isadora smiled brightly at her.

“Buenos dias, Mami,” she returned a little louder than Mirabel would’ve liked.

Gui stirred beside them but didn’t wake.

“Come on. Let’s go get some breakfast so we don’t wake your Papá.”

The two-year-old nodded and held her arms out to be picked up. They went through their quick morning routine. Mirabel no longer expected the house to move things to her hand, no longer expected the easy and warm interaction of her childhood. This house was not Casita, but it was her home now. It was a home she had built alongside the new family that she had made. It may not be magical or fantastical, but it was still real.

“Hola, Tío Diego,” Dora greeted as she bounced into the kitchen.

The older man turned from the stove to glance at the two.

“Buenos dias, mis sobrinitas,” he returned, waving at Mirabel with the spatula in hand and accepting Dora’s tackle/hug to his legs before she flitted off to her seat. He placed a full plate of breakfast in front of the toddler who cheerfully thanked him before digging in.

Mirabel smiled at the girl before approaching Diego and pressing a kiss to his cheeks, ignoring the brush of his salt and pepper stubble on her skin.

“¿Dónde es tu marido esta mañana?”

“Ay, Bruno had a rough night. Pesadillas.”

Mirabel nodded, her face twisted with concern.

Ten years since they had left the Encanto together and Mirabel felt closer to her tío than she had felt to her tía in the fifteen years they had lived together. Part of her chided herself as unfair. It had just been her and Bruno outside the Encanto, trying to make it in a world that was unfamiliar to them while all the other Madrigals in the Encanto had to worry about the community more than their family, but Mirabel couldn’t banish the thoughts of the difference in how Tía Pepa treated her before her failed gift ceremony compared to her treatment afterwards.

Tío Bruno had been a large part of why Mirabel didn’t end up getting herself killed or worse the second she stepped foot past the mountains. He had supported her through her journey to find herself and a place in the world, finding his own place and his own family alongside her. Leaving the Encanto also meant leaving his gift behind, as it didn’t work outside the magical perimeter, but he still had nightmares and dreams that came true sometimes. Beyond that, there was a lot of her uncle that was damaged. He was made up of shattered pieces glued back together. The glue was strong and the people they had gathered over the years: their partners, their children, their friends, they all held Bruno together. Still, he had bad days.

“Is he up for visitors,” Mirabel asked, noticing that Diego was making chocolate santafereño, a treat Mirabel had often in childhood thanks to her father, a native of Bogotá. Diego only made it on Bruno’s very bad days. Mirabel wondered just what nightmares he had had to render him bedridden.

“Tomás and Gemma are with him now. I couldn’t convince them to leave him be. I don’t want to overcrowd him.”

Mirabel nodded, casting a brief thought to her primos adoptados. Likely she would see little of them today and they would cling to their father’s side.

Mirabel looked over as Diego stepped closer to her.

“Mira, he… he was talking in his sleep last night. He mentioned su otra familia.”

Mirabel paused at that. She glanced over at Dora who was obliviously eating her arepas de huevos.

“¿Le oíste decir algo sobre...?”

“Solo dijo una cosa: La Casa Madrigal se está rompiendo.”

Breaking? The house couldn’t be breaking now. That vision was ages ago and Mirabel had left the Encanto, partly so it wouldn’t come true. She had been gone ten years, what would she be doing that would break Casita now? Perhaps it was a metaphor. Bruno had mentioned that his dreams were not like his previous prophecies, they were much more abstract and he only discerned the true meaning of them half the time, if he remembered them at all. If it wasn’t literally the house, that still meant something in the Encanto was breaking.

The family then? Mirabel dismissed that thought. She did not know what had happened to her family these last ten years and she didn’t want to think about it. She still missed them, of course she did, but she left for a reason. That decision likely meant everyone was better off, including herself. She was no longer in the way of the others doing what they needed for the community, she was no longer a lingering blemish on the otherwise almost spotless record of the Madrigals. She would like to see her parents again and Antonio, but he had likely forgotten her by now and her parents had Luisa and Isabela, and any grandchildren they likely had by now, maybe even new gifts for the Encanto. They wouldn’t be missing Mirabel any more than they were missing Bruno.

The family no longer had to pretend to accept Mirabel or else just ignore her and Mirabel didn’t have to pretend to be okay with being ignored. No more walking alone, no more wanting for more, no more nights up in her room crying herself to sleep, no more hoping and praying and wishing for a miracle. She had her gift, her Isadora. She had love with Guillermo. She had family with Tío Bruno, Tío Diego, primo Tomás and prima Gemma.

“Just… let me know if you need anything from me. Or if he says anything else.”

Diego gave her a searching look before nodding in understanding. He gave her shoulder a comforting squeeze before going back to the stove to finish off the chocolate santafereño.

Mirabel sighed to herself. Whatever was going on with the Encanto was not her business, nor her problem. Her family was full of magical people that could solve the issue easily enough without her or her tío.

It was fine. It was totally fine.

Then…

Mirabel knew this day was coming, she’d known it the second Antonio was born. One day there would be a gift ceremony. One day he would walk down the same makeshift red carpet she had, ascend the same stairs, stand before an identical doorknob and he would either receive a gift or he would not.

In the beginning, when she was still a little angry and bitter about there being a new family member to begin with and resentful that she could not hold the pretense of the nursery being her bedroom anymore, she had hoped he wouldn’t get a gift. At least then she wouldn’t be alone in this pain.

However, the more she watched Antonio grow up, she came to love him and her hopes became the opposite. There was no way that Antonio didn’t deserve a gift. He was special just like the rest of their family. He couldn’t be like her, he shouldn’t be.

Even with that thought process, it still ached when his door lit up and animals flocked to him. But it ached in a good way. She was happy for him. The ache of not being included in the family photo was definitely not a good one. That wasn’t anything new. The first few times the family gathered for family pictures, Mirabel would barrel in too late and the picture was either blurred and ruined or the camera had already moved along. Julieta would tell her they would get another photo later. She had a few times gotten pictures with her parents, photos that hung in their bedroom, but rarely a family photo. After a while, she stopped bothering to force her way into them. No one noticed she was missing from them anyway, so what did it matter?

Except, this time, it did.

It mattered. All of this mattered. It mattered that she was ignored and pushed to the side. It mattered that she was shunned for lacking something she could not control. It mattered that she had to push down her own feelings time and time again and pretend to be fine when she wasn’t. She wanted more than this, she wanted to be more than this. She had spent ten years waiting on a miracle. And naively, a part of her had hung on to the hope that it wasn’t something wrong with her but the miracle, the magic. Maybe it wasn’t able to bestow any more gifts. That idea had just been unceremoniously shattered to pieces.

Maybe her family did have the right idea. It was Mirabel’s fault that she didn’t get a gift. There was something in her that was lacking, something that made the magic reject her. Maybe it was this. Here she was brooding and wallowing in self-pity on Antonio’s special night. She should be right there with her primito querido, smiling and congratulating him. Instead, she was lurking in the crowd trying her best not to cry. Her eyes burned as she slipped away and left Antonio’s room. She walked down the hall, passing her family’s glowing doors.

La Familia Madrigal, a perfect constellation, stars shining brightly with no need of her. She was not a star, she never was, she was just a moon. A dead rock with no natural light of her own, only reflecting the light given off by the sun. She had nothing to offer her family, nothing that would elevate the Encanto. She could not marry some dumb hunk like Isabela and produce children that would more than likely have gifts. She could not make flowers bloom and ensure good harvests. She could not reroute rivers and move churches like Luisa. She could not hear every little sound around the Encanto so that Abuela was always informed of the happenings in town. She could not shapeshift and keep the townspeople entertained like Camilo. Her food was not healing, her mood did not shift the weather and she couldn’t lead an entire town. She was, and always would be, the giftless Madrigal. An irrefutable stain on the purity of the miracle. A failure, seemingly for no reason other than that she was Mirabel.

Her steps faltered as the wind swiftly left her sails. Behind her, the party continued on and likely would for some time. No one would come looking for her, she was sure, they never did. She would spend another night trying to hide her pain. She glanced up noticing she was at Tío Bruno’s door. Perhaps she was most comparable to him in her family, except she was worse. Tío’s power was seen as a curse oftentimes but it could still be utilized to help the Encanto. Mirabel didn’t have a power at all and that made her useless. Sure, the children in town liked her and she was a skilled seamstress and even had begun designing her own clothing, but anyone could do that. That wasn’t enough for a Madrigal.

She wasn’t enough.

She never would be, that much was clear. The candle was never going to bless her, she was never going to have her own room, she would never have the unconditional love of her family again. Abuela would continue looking down on her, her parents would continue pitying her, Isabela would continue hating her, Luisa and Camilo wouldn’t have time for her, Dolores, Tío Felix and Tía Pepa would continue ignoring her. Antonio would drift away from her.

It would happen slowly. He would still swear up and down she was his favorite prima. And they would have a few beautiful moments more together, but eventually he would belong more to the town than he would to her just like the rest of the family. She had been through that already with Camilo, she didn’t want to go through it again.

She glanced at her uncle’s door once more.

Maybe she didn’t have to. He had left, what was stopping her? No one would miss her. Well, Antonio and her parents probably would. Still, they would be fine. They had the rest of the family, they didn’t need Mirabel. The family got along fine without Bruno, they could get along without her. She brought much less to the table than a seer did.

She found herself moving swiftly to her bedroom, flinging her closet open and grabbing the largest bag she had before throwing clothes inside. Casita’s tiles rippled questioningly. Mirabel paused a moment. Was she really doing this? This was insane. She was fifteen years old, she couldn’t run away. But what else was there for her? What was the point of waiting another three years? When was she going to have another opportunity like this to get away unimpeded? Everyone was at the party, no one would be around to stop her (or, more likely, gossip about her as she walked past). She shook her head and continued packing.

Casita seemed to realize what she was doing and started moving things around to stop her, taking away her clothes, hiding her bag and refusing to open the drawers so Mirabel could get to her saved money.

“Casita, cut it out,” Mirabel hissed at her quietly so Dolores wouldn’t pick up on what was happening. Although, if she did, would she care? All the days and nights Mirabel had cried and begged anyone that was listening for a gift, for a chance, Dolores never showed up to reassure her or offer a comforting hug or even a smile later on. Her prima’s gift only conveniently worked when she was spilling one of Mirabel’s secrets. No one would come. They would all be too busy with the party and drinking and dancing, too busy to notice Mirabel being gone much less to notice when she was there.

Casita’s tiles waved frantically in distress as Mirabel fought her for her bag.

“Casita, I have to go. I can’t stay in the Encanto forever. I’m tired of all of this. I can’t keep living like this.”

Casita’s frantic movements calmed down as she took in Mirabel’s words.

“I want to have a life of my own, one that isn’t tied to me being the worst of the Madrigals. I don’t want to spend my adulthood being a pariah. I don’t even know who I am really. I need a change. If I’m going to have a chance, it won’t be here. Please, this is my choice. You can’t be happy watching me crying every night. You don’t need that burden.”

Casita moved a table closer to Mirabel. Upon it was scraps of the candle holders she had made. There were cut outs all over the table, not least of all a flurry of hearts.

“I love you too, Casita. I’m doing this for you and for the family… but most importantly, for me. I think I can be a little selfish, just this once.”

Casita’s tiles moved mournfully, but she relinquished all of Mirabel’s things. She also pushed her nightstand forward where loose paper and pens were.

“You’re right. I should at least leave a note so Mamá and Papi don’t think anyone took me.”

She penned her letter quickly and left it on her parents’ bed before retreating to the kitchen to get some food she could bring with her. Casita, seemingly deciding she could not talk Mirabel out of her decision, helped her by making sure she had everything she needed including her mother’s emergency arepas and some other food that would keep for a while as well as a first aid kit, a lighter, a bundle of firewood, a rope and a knife she insisted Mirabel take.

Once Mirabel had everything she needed, she paused by the door. She had packed her whole life up in two cloth bags and was leaving everything else behind. She paused before quickly making her way back to her room and grabbing a photo she had in her drawer. This was the last family photo she had taken, a photo that she had to be in because it was at her quinceañera, an event that also featured the whole town. Mirabel’s court of honor was significantly smaller than any of the older girls’ and she couldn’t say she was particularly thrilled at some of the whispers she heard, but she had been genuinely happy.

People paid attention to her, remembered she existed. Isabela had made her a beautiful flower crown, her mother had cooked all of Mirabel’s favorites, Tía Pepa didn’t rain or thunder even once, Camilo made jokes with her like he used to and her Papi had looked so proud as he put on her shoes and they had their first dance. Even Abuela had smiled and complimented Mirabel’s dress, one she designed and made herself. That was months ago, but it was a happy day, the happiest she had had in a long while with her family. She wanted to treasure it.

Casita’s tiles shifted with question and hope. Mirabel smiled at her contritely.

“I’m still going, just didn’t want to leave this.”

Mirabel stuffed the photo in her bag and went down the stairs swiftly and quietly. She made a beeline for the front door, only pausing to stroke the wooden frame tenderly.

“Adios, Casita. Gracias por todo lo que has hecho por mí.”

The house let out a mournful creaking.

“I’m going to miss you too. Maybe I’ll visit someday.”

She gave the house one last stroke before walking out. Casita creaked and crooned mournfully behind her, almost as if begging her to stay. She resolutely did not look back. Her eyes stung with tears, but she clenched her fist and continued forward.

As Mirabel walked out of sight, she could not see the large crack that formed right through the door of the nursery.

Now…

Mirabel tried her best not to think of what Diego had said. It wasn’t hard initially, hardly a moment after he had gone, Guillermo had entered the kitchen and Mirabel focused on him and Dora. They had a full day taking Dora to the park then shopping before they popped in to check on his restaurant and then Mirabel’s shop before returning home. Bruno had still not emerged when they returned, but Diego was in the kitchen stress-cooking again, which only heightened Mirabel’s worry.

“Hey tío, still no Bruno,” Gui asked, looking around.

Diego turned to them, looking frazzled. Mirabel and Guillermo shared a look at that before he swung Dora up on his hip.

“Vamos, cariño. Let’s put your new things away.”

Dora protested on the way up the stairs but had no choice but to go with her father.

Mirabel approached Diego apprehensively.

“Is it really that bad?”

“His knuckles are bloody from all the knocking, he’s been saying the ‘sana, sana,’ so much his voice is hoarse. I had to give him a bag of salt and sugar to hold onto in bed. The twins wanted to stay but I sent them to Paloma’s. They’re not used to seeing their Papá like this.”

Mirabel took a shaky breath at that. Well, she had no choice but to worry now.

“I don’t know, Mira. He’s had his episodes, but he’s been doing great lately. I’ve never seen him this bad.”

“I have.”

Then …

Mirabel was certain someone was following her.

She had questioned herself at first, figuring it was just wishful thinking on her part that someone would care enough to stop her, but there were snapping branches and rustling leaves. That wasn’t in her head. Then it occurred to her that she was in the forest by herself and whoever was following her had not seen fit to call out or make their presence known.

Her heart rate picked up as she considered this. Surely no one within the Encanto would attack her. Even if she was the worst of the Madrigals, she was still a Madrigal. There would be consequences, even if just so the family image could be upheld. Then she remembered the knife Casita made her bring. She slipped it into her hand discreetly and considered her options before deciding to confront the interloper. She turned around and felt her heart catch at the cloaked figure hiding slightly behind a tree before she brandished her weapon.

“I have a knife and I know how to use it, so you’d better get away from me. Anda, corre.”

The figure paused for a moment before stepping into the moonlight and pulling down their hood, their hands raised in surrender. Mirabel stared at them a moment, trying to place the familiar face before she realized who it was.

“Tío Bruno,” she asked incredulously.

He gave her an awkward wave in return.

“Have— have you been living in the woods all this time?”

She watched him knock on the tree and cross his fingers while holding his breath as he approached her, only answering after he threw salt and sugar over his shoulder.

“I haven’t been living in the woods exactly, more like… well, Casita’s got a lot of hidey-holes and the walls are very well insulated so—”

“Wai— wha— you were living in the walls?”

“Sort of?”

Mirabel stared at him for a moment before shaking her head.

“Fine, whatever. Goodbye,” she replied turning to continue her trek to the mountains.

“Goodbye?”

“Yeah, I’m leaving.”

“No, well, I figured that out. I came to stop you.”

Mirabel looked back at him with a raised brow.

“You came to stop me? That’s rich coming from the man who ran away but, apparently, didn’t.”

“The walls of the Encanto are higher than you really think unless you know which routes to take. Even then, I’m not really athletic. Plus free food, so…”

“I’m not staying.”

“Mirabel, wait,” Bruno implored, grabbing her arm to stop her.

“Sorry, sorry. I didn’t mean to… I just… you can’t go. The family needs you.”

Mirabel scoffed in reply.

“You’ve spent too long in the walls if you think that’s true. What did you see in there? Did you see the family needing me? Or did you see me being in the way, being a distraction, a disappointment, a stain on la reputación de la familia Madrigal?”

“Julieta—”

“Has Isabela and Luisa already, she won’t need me.”

“Antonio—”

“Will forget about me soon enough. I’m tired of standing on the side, waiting for something that will never happen, longing to be something I’m not. I’m not helping the family, I’m hurting them and maybe… maybe they’re hurting me too. So it’s better if I leave, really leave. I’d rather do that than stay in the walls and watch my family forget me or stay outside of them and watch them do the same thing anyway.”

She almost regretted the words as she took in the overwhelming heartbroken expression on her tío’s face, but she meant what she said. She gave him one last regretful look before turning back to continue her journey. She hadn’t gotten more than a few paces when she heard footsteps following her once more.

“Tío—”

“If you don’t come back, then I’m just going to have to go with you.”

“You are not coming with me.”

“I’m not asking, kid,” he replied, stopping beside her.

She stared at him a moment, taking him in fully. He was pale and skinny, a short man with wild curls hanging into his face and bags and bruises beneath his eyes. He looked like he hadn’t gotten any decent sleep in years, like a stiff wind would knock him over. He certainly didn’t resemble the villain that town legends made him out to be. He wilted under Mirabel’s stare, looking down and wringing his fingers more like a child than a 50-year-old man. She noticed blood crusted on his knuckles and winced sympathetically when he went through the ritual she had witnessed before, knocking on wood and reciting a children’s rhyme and throwing salt and sugar over his shoulder.

“Sobrina, I’m not going to let you leave the Encanto by yourself with no one to watch out for you.”

“I’ve been watching out for myself for a while now.”

“Within the safety of the Encanto. Have you ever left the magical perimeter before? Do you know what’s out there besides what you’ve read in books?”

“Well, have you,” she shot back.

“Yeah, actually. All the time. Before, well, before—”

“Before my gifting ceremony when you left,” Mirabel finished.

“I suppose, yeah,” he replied, nervously rubbing his neck.

Mirabel watched him, unable to stop herself from asking a question that had been nagging her since childhood.

“Tío, you left because of me, didn’t you?”

“What? No. No, no. I didn’t leave because of you. Why would you think that?”

“I had my gifting ceremony, I failed my duty to my family and then the next thing I knew, you were gone. My favorite tío, my favorite person in the whole Encanto, was gone. What else was I supposed to think? And Tía Pepa certainly thought it was my fault,” she replied, mumbling her last words.

“Pepa said that,” Bruno asked, sounding angry at that.

“She didn’t mean it. She was just mad in the heat of the moment. She apologized later for it.”

“She shouldn’t have said it at all. It’s not true, Mirabel.”

“Then why did you leave?”

Bruno sighed at that before answering. He told her about his vision, about the magic being in danger and the house breaking.

“So, I am hurting my family,” Mirabel concluded, heartbroken.

“No, no. That’s not how my visions work. They aren’t set in stone. Yes, I saw you. But the vision changed. There was no one answer, no clear fate, like your future was undecided. But I knew how it was gonna look, I knew what everyone would think because I’m Bruno and everyone always assumes the worst. I didn’t want that stigma to fall on you just because of this one vision... so... so...”

Mirabel stared at her uncle, dumbfounded.

“You left to… protect me?”

The concept felt foreign to her. Her mother and father did their best to protect her from the slander or teasing of the townsfolk, though that amounted more to just shielding her from everything and isolating her from the world to the point of loneliness. Luisa wouldn’t want her to be hurt, she knew that, and she’d protect her from any physical dangers. But the idea of someone choosing to sacrifice something of themselves for Mirabel? That was new.

Bruno studied her before giving her a sad smile.

“I love you, kid. You’re mi sobrinita, mi familia, mi mariposita. Course I would do anything to protect you.”

“But leaving? Did you really have to?”

“If Mamá got her hands on that vision, she wouldn’t listen to reason. She never has before. Julieta and Agustín would argue, but they’d fold to her like always. I can’t fault them, if she asked me about the vision, I wouldn’t have been able to hide it from her for long. I had to leave so she couldn’t get it out of me, but I didn’t know how to… how to… let go.”

“Still, your vision shows me hurting the magic, hurting the family, so I should go.”

“I don’t know which way the vision is going to fall... but my guess... the family, the Encanto, the fate of the miracle itself – it’s all gonna come down to you.”

“Maybe this is how. Maybe me leaving saves the magic.”

“Maybe kid, I can’t say that for certain,” Bruno replied reluctantly before he perked up with a resolute nod.

“I can say that I know a village that’s safe for us to go once we leave the Encanto. I have friends there. At least I did a decade ago. Hopefully, they’re still there. Either way, if you’re dead set on leaving, you’re not doing it alone.”

Mirabel opened her mouth to refuse but found the words wouldn’t pass her lips. Instead, she gave her uncle a smile.

“Gracias, tío. I… I’d rather not be alone.”

Bruno ducked his head bashfully at that before shooing her forward.

“Ve, ve, ve. We’re wasting time. We’ll take the traders’ route through the mountains, but the passage is still a hike. I wasn’t joking about that part. Ay, my bones aren’t going to thank me for that.”

Mirabel let another smile grace her lips before following her uncle as they trekked into the unknown.

Now…

Bruno was still in bed as Diego said he would be when Mirabel entered the room. He was sprawled out among the sheets, looking smaller than he had in some time, with bags of salt and sugar next to him. She felt the grains of it in the carpet as she stepped into the room. His cutting boards were locked away in a plastic container tucked in a corner of the room. The furniture and bed were deliberately non-wood, Bruno’s choice to reduce the chances of leaning too heavily on his compulsions, though everyone was willing to accommodate them.

He barely moved as she approached the bed and sat on the edge. His knuckles were bandaged over with white gauze, spots of red dotting them. It was times like this Mirabel wished she had one of her mother’s arepas handy, but she had learned to live without them. She reached out cautiously and brushed her uncle’s hair away from his face. His features were drawn and his pallor was wan. He looked more like the flighty, fragile man she had first met in the woods and less like the awkward but animated goofball who managed to light up the stage with his plays.

“Tío?”

“Sana, sana, colita de rana. Si no sana hoy, sanará mañana,” he mumbled to himself.

“Tío Bruno? Es Mirabel.”

He paused then, his glazed eyes meeting hers.

“Es demasiado tarde. Es demasiado tarde.”

“What’s too late?”

“Es demasiado tarde.”

“Tío, I need you to focus. Diego said you mentioned something about Casita, about the Encanto. What’s going on?”

“Es demasiado tarde. We can’t fix it. Casita is going to break. We can’t stop it. No one can stop it. She’s going to fall. La familia Madrigal is going to break.”

Then…

The town where her tío brought her was a nice, friendly town, just a bit bigger than the Encanto. The people didn’t ask many questions about their past and generally accepted outsiders. Mirabel quickly grew close to the woman they were living with. Señora Cruz, who insisted that Mirabel call her Tía Elena, was the sister of an old friend of Bruno’s. Mirabel was fairly certain that friend was not simply a friend, especially not with how crestfallen her tío looked when he learned that Elena’s brother had gotten married and moved away, but she didn’t press about that. If Bruno wanted to talk to her about it, he would’ve. She learned the hard way to keep her mouth shut about such things after she had caught Isabela kissing Carmen Delgado and proceeded to tell Abuela about it, not realizing the gravity of that betrayal in the pursuit of finally being better than Isabela in Alma’s eyes.

Tía Elena was perfectly lovely and didn’t find Bruno’s behavior strange or ask questions about Mirabel’s past. More than that, Elena was a seamstress with her own little clothing store and decided to take Mirabel under her wing.

Mirabel hadn’t believed there was anything special in her abilities. Anyone could sew after all. Elena begged to differ. She thought Mirabel was talented, that her abilities went beyond just stitching tears in fabric, even more so when she learned the teen was self-taught. She had taken one look at the photo of the dress Mirabel made for her quince and insisted she had a future in the craft. She was to begin reporting to Elena’s shop after school for formal lessons. With Bruno’s encouragement, she began apprenticing with the older woman, learning techniques she would’ve never picked up on her own and got her hands on fabrics she only dreamt of in the Encanto.

Elena also encouraged Mirabel’s penchant for original designs. She wasn’t sure why she had brought her sketchpad with her, it hadn’t seemed essential, but Casita insisted she pack it. The pages were filled with dresses, skirts, ruanas, shoes, shirts, bags, pillows and stuffies. Mirabel figured the concepts would remain on the pages, but Elena implored her to practice her own creations in her spare time and urged her to make suggestions to customers about new additions to their pieces if she felt it was appropriate.

Mirabel had never had her skill fostered to this extent. Her parents made sure she was supplied with as much thread and fabric as she wanted and she had gotten some compliments on her work within the Encanto, but she’d never had someone sit her down and have a serious discussion with her about pursuing this or praise her ability without being patronizing or conciliatory. It wasn’t a ‘sure, I guess this is good, but you’re a Madrigal, you should be able to do more than this’. It was a genuine appraisal of her work. Elena made sure she knew she had a long way to go to be an expert, but she had potential and that was more than she could say she received before now.

Bruno was supportive of her pursuit, volunteering himself to play her mannequin whenever she needed and letting her use him as a glorified doll to test out different pieces. He had been disoriented and wrongfooted being back in the world after ten years living in the walls, a world he had never been totally comfortable with in the first place. However, there was no stigma against him here for his gift any more than there was against Mirabel. People may think he was odd, what with the knocking and over the top superstitious behavior, but everyone regarded him as eccentric not villainous. Mirabel was a friendly creative, not the useless Madrigal. She much preferred this life to the one she left behind.

She missed Casita, she missed her parents, she missed Antonio. Really, she missed her whole family, including Isabela. She missed the kids who would follow her around and the music and festive nature of the town. But she didn’t mind what she had gained in return: a sense of herself, an idea of her future, a place in the world that wasn’t dictated by her last name.

So when, two years after she had left the Encanto, Elena suddenly started acting strange, Mirabel did not immediately jump to conclusions. She had grown a kinship with the older woman, a bond that she cherished with all her heart. She trusted her. Still, it felt like déjà vu when out of the blue, Elena became distant. She was always too occupied for Mirabel, always sending her off elsewhere for busy work. It felt like Tía Pepa, Dolores and Luisa all over again.

Mirabel calmed herself as quickly as she could from that thinking. Jumping to conclusions never helped. It only led to overreactions, and she didn’t need that, not again. Not after the incidents with Miguel.

(How was she to know he was interested in her romantically? No one had been before. They were friends and she had liked him, but she had dismissed the idea that he could reciprocate. Then, when he leaned in to kiss her, she had panicked, thought he was doing something weird and hit him with a rolling pin. He had forgiven her and accepted the kiss to his poor throbbing forehead, but he grew distant from her.)

Not after what happened with Guadalupe either.

(All Lupe wanted to do was hang out with another girl and Mirabel got clingy and defensive, thinking she was going to lose her friend, the first friend she’d made outside the Encanto that was her own age. Lupe hadn’t been pleased about Mirabel’s accusations of being ditched or making it seem like Lupe couldn’t have more than one friend. They had worked it out, but Mirabel learned a good lesson about herself when it came to her interactions with other people and how her past experiences still hadn’t totally left her.)

So, when Elena began to drift, she didn’t panic. She didn’t overreact, she didn’t cling, she simply waited to see what was going on. Eventually, Elena came to her with a secretive smile.

“Get dressed, cariña. Be sure to bring your best designs with you. We’re going to the next town over,” Elena urged.

“Why,” Mirabel asked curiously.

“There is a fashion contest going on. Mi prima from Bogotá is hosting it. She’s taking five girls from that village under her wing to do an internship with her company. She’s a fashion designer, has her own stores and all. Her clothes have been on runways. Even on celebrities.”

“But I’m not in the contest.”

“Doesn’t matter. She says if I bring you, she’ll look at your work anyway, and if they’re any good, which they are, she’ll open a special spot just for you.”

Mirabel felt a spike of hope at that.

“Really?"

“It’s the perfect opportunity, Mira. A chance to go to the capital, work with a professional designer, make connections, learn the industry. What do you say?”

Mirabel couldn’t contain her happiness as she jumped for joy.

Elena’s cousin, Paloma, was a tall woman. She was domineering in a way, intimidating. Still, Mirabel stood with her back straight and presented her work. She let the woman flip through her sketchpad and made comments and suggestions about the fashion pieces presented in the contest when prompted to do so. Inside she was a bundle of nerves, but she didn’t let it show. At the end of the day, Paloma gave her a shrewd eye that froze Mirabel’s insides.

I didn’t get in, she thought disappointedly.

“You’re seventeen still. I will be expecting you to continue attending school while you work with me. I will not have you neglect your education. I will have a place set up for you and your guardian. My staff in Bogotá will be sure to take care of you.”

“You mean… you mean I got it?”

“You got it before I arrived. Mi prima doesn’t talk so highly of just anyone. Still, I had to see for myself. You have potential but don’t let that go to your head. There’s a lot of hard work ahead for you. Hard work alone is no guarantee of success either. One of these five girls I’ve chosen may one day have a clothing rack in one of my stores. You’ve got something special though. You might have your own shop, just like Elena.”

Mirabel’s eyes sparkled at that. That would be a dream come true.

“But I will warn you. This business can be brutal. You’re a very nice girl, I can tell. You’ll have to pick your friends wisely. There will be many trying to tear you down, but also those who wish to build you up. You’ll need a shrewd eye to tell the difference and a stiff spine to weather it all. There will be insults. People will underestimate you, possibly even try to sabotage you. Can you handle that?”

“I can handle it,” Mirabel affirmed with a nod.

That wasn’t so different from the Encanto, if she could get through that for ten years, she could get through anything.

“I look forward to working with you, Mirabel,” Paloma replied, giving her one last smile before walking off with Elena.

Mirabel turned to Bruno with a wide grin and flung her arms around him in a tight hug, which he accepted with barely a flinch.

She had it. She had her chance.

Now…

Mirabel couldn’t stop herself from pacing in her room.

She had stayed with Bruno for a while, stroking his hair and humming calming songs to him. Eventually, he fell into a fitful slumber and Diego returned to take over from her. She hid her anxiety as she and Gui got Dora washed up and ready for bed, but it came rushing back as soon as her daughter was asleep.

“Mira, you’re going to wear a hole in the floor. Come to bed, mi amor.”

“I can’t. I’m too… too…”

“Upset? Anxious? Worried?”

“All of that and then some.”

Guillermo sighed and got off the bed, leading her gently to sit on the edge. He stroked his fingers through her shoulder-length curls in a soothing gesture.

“Mira, dime. Qué pasa?”

She looked into her husband’s kind chocolate brown orbs. His eyes were the first thing she had noticed about him when they met: the gentleness, the kindness, the understanding and the alertness when they landed on her. When they spoke, he was scarily attentive. It was a strange, heady feeling, to be the complete focal point of someone’s attention for a positive reason. Part of her was suspicious of it. Getting swept up in that feeling had doomed several relationships before, but so had her course correction from being utterly trusting to not being trusting at all. Guillermo managed to find her at a strange, vulnerable place in her life and it was just the right time. He was just the right man. She never hid from him, she was not going to start doing so now.

“I might need to go back to the Encanto.”

Guillermo’s face fell at that.

“Back to— you’re not serious, are you? Mirabel, you left for a good reason.”

“I did. Now, I need to go back.”

“You said ‘might’ before, now you’re certain?”

“Have you seen Tío Bruno? He’s half out of his mind right now. I’ve never seen it this bad. He thinks our Casita is going to break, that the magic is in danger. He had a vision about this years ago. I was at the center of that vision. I thought it meant the magic failed because of me and so I left, but if something else has happened that has put the magic in danger, that means my entire family is at risk.”

“Mirabel, we’re your family. Me, Isadora, Tío Diego, Tío Bruno, Gemma and Tomás, Elena and Paloma. We matter.”

“Of course you do. I would never trade you all for anything in the world. I’m doing this for all of my family. I need to know what’s happening.”

Guillermo still did not look pleased. Mirabel sighed and leaned in to kiss him softly.

“If I could ignore this, mi vida, I would. I left the Encanto for the family as much as for myself. I’ve built a life that I’m proud of, a life that’s my own, a family that’s mine. The Madrigals are still my family too. There is a lot of water under the bridge. I still remember all those lonely nights, but the longer I’m away, the more I remember the good too,” Mirabel mused, glancing over at the picture of her whole family (minus Bruno) together at her quince.

“Bruno doesn’t think I can stop the family from breaking, and maybe I can’t, but I owe it to myself to try. I owe it to Casita too. She was more than just a house. She was a friend. She was family.”

Guillermo stared at her for a long moment.

“Fine. But if you’re going, I’m coming too.”

“Gui—”

“Don’t bother trying to convince me. I’m not leaving your side. That’s the vow I made. I won’t let you face this alone. You wouldn’t let me face down my family and they’re worse than yours.”

“I mean, not to make it a competition or anything but I did have to run away from home due to my family’s neglect, so…” Mirabel trailed off teasingly.

“You really want to trade war stories now? Because we totally can, and I’d have you beat, señorita milagra,” Guillermo shot back with a sly smile.

Mirabel gave him a mock threatening glare at the nickname but accepted the kiss to her cheek.

“If you’re coming, we’ll have to bring Dora with us. I don’t want to leave her with Diego. He’ll have enough on his plate with Bruno and their twins,” Mirabel decided after a comfortable moment of silence.

“You don’t think Bruno should come with us?”

“In the state he’s in, I don’t know what good that would do. It’s been twenty years since he’s seen anyone in the family. I think it’ll be too much for him to explain he spent half that time living in the walls and the other half helping me run away from home all because of a vision he had that may be coming true right now. My family isn’t exactly known for reacting to things rationally, least of all when it comes to Tío Bruno. I mean, we weren’t even allowed to say his name after he left. Dios, maybe it’s been the same way for me. ‘We don’t talk about Bruno. Don’t mention Mirabel.’ I wonder if there’s any other family weirdos I don’t know about.”

“You are about as far from a weirdo as I’ve met.”

“You haven’t met many people, so you can be forgiven.”

Guillermo snorted at that and held her tighter.

“Are you sure about this?”

“Not at all, but I need to know if there’s anything I can do for my family.”

“What if there isn’t?”

Mirabel had no answer for that.

Then…

Bogotá had a magic all on its own. Mirabel had never been to a place like this. She had heard a bit about it from her Papi since he was born in Bogotá, but she could never really imagine it. Plus, the city had grown a lot since Agustín’s family moved. She had thought Elena’s village was large and that the Encanto was lively, but a city was a whole other beast.

The architecture was nothing she had seen before, old buildings from centuries ago mixed in with modern structures, so many cars and skyscrapers and bustling crowds galore. She went to a school with hundreds of students when she wasn’t working with Paloma. The technology was even more confusing and advanced than what she faced in Elena’s village and that was also a learning curve for her. Magic had greatly reduced the need for technology in the Encanto and Mirabel found herself unaccustomed to what to others seemed like a child’s trinket. Even with the culture shock of it all, she managed.

Her tío found himself practically living in the various theatres in the city, flitting between the orchestra and the plays and the operas with a glee she had not seen in him before. That only made her feel even more secure in her decision to make the move. She did miss Elena, but Bogotá was good for them.

She didn’t realize how good it was for Bruno until she came home from her internship with Paloma to see her tío kissing some man on the couch. What followed was a rather embarrassing exchange as Bruno and Mirabel talked over one another in an attempt to overexplain (Bruno) and brush it off (Mirabel). Meanwhile, Diego watched with amusement as she tried to subvert her uncle’s attempts at the birds and the bees (or the bees and the other bees as it were).

Mirabel had been wary of a new addition to the fold, a romantic partner, a possible new tío. The moment she knew she could accept Diego was when he had gifted Bruno with a gorgeous custom carved wooden board for his knocking. It also helped that Diego was an actor/director and he and Bruno worked together to rewrite Bruno’s rat telenovelas into plays and perform them. They actually found success with the melodramas/comedies. Mirabel felt even better that her tío had something that he could pour time into that wasn’t just her. They had been nearly inseparable since they fled from the Encanto, but now Mirabel was spreading her wings, chasing the dream of owning a shop one day. It made sense Bruno would pour himself into a passion of his own, romantically and otherwise.

She knew he had always wanted a family: a spouse, children. But children meant a wife and a wife meant he had to be attracted to a woman. Abuela had tried many avenues to set him up, but between Bruno’s blatant refusals and the fact that the town slowly turned against him, his lack of marriage was assured. He had had a single affair with a man from the Encanto when he was still a teenager, but that inevitably got back to Abuela, who was embarrassed and appalled and made him stay with Father Flores at the church for a year in order to be reformed. After that, all affairs were conducted outside the magical perimeter. Abuela eventually learned about that too, but the secrecy with which those affairs were conducted meant they didn’t affect the reputation of the Madrigals, so she did little about it.

“She would give me these lectures though. Told me my “proclivities” didn’t help to strengthen the Encanto, that I was neglecting my family. I’d never be truly happy. I would never be able to get married and have children. I did want that, just not with who she or anyone else wanted me to want that with. I had men I loved who I couldn’t speak about the Encanto with and people in the Encanto who I couldn’t speak about my partners with. It wasn’t so hard to decide to hide in the walls when I was hiding so much of myself outside of them as well,” Bruno had said once.

“But you’re happy now,” Mirabel had asked.

“Leaving the Encanto with you wasn’t an easy choice, but it was probably one of the best ones I’ve made. Watching you grow into adulthood has been amazing. And now there’s Diego too and everything we’re making together is wonderful. We’ve been talking about our future. A “domestic partnership” they’re calling it nowadays. We even discussed adopting. I thought we were too old for all that, but when I said that? Dios, you would’ve thought I shot him. He’s so dramatic sometimes, reina del drama.”

“Huh, it’s a wonder you two even get along then,” Mirabel had mused aloud, earning a wry smile from her uncle before he softened.

“I have you to thank for all of this, you know.”

“What? For running away?”

“No, sabelotoda. For… being you I guess. You’re the real gift, kid.”

Mirabel had ducked her head at that with a smile, feeling both embarrassed and warm at the sentiment.

With all that, she and her uncle remained close, but there was less time that they spent together as a result.

Mirabel felt strange about it. It was a natural progression and a part of growing up, but she couldn’t help thinking that Bruno only found Diego and the stage because Mirabel had left him alone, spending all her time with Paloma and focusing on her future career.

If she said as much, Bruno would deny it, say he was glad Mirabel’s path had also led him here, but she wondered if she had done to him what had been done to her by her sisters and cousins once they found a use for their gifts. Designing, being a seamstress, was her gift as much as making flowers or superstrength was her hermanas’. Did she neglect Bruno in pursuit of her talents? If she did, there was nothing to be done. He found something else to love besides just Mirabel. She was happy about this, he deserved it. She still just felt… off-kilter.

Maybe it was to do with the fact that she had no one. At twenty years old, she had had relationships, but they always ended for one reason or another. Mainly, due to her baggage. She had yet to find a man she would be willing to tell the entire truth of the Encanto to, only making vague allusions to her family. There was definitely no one she had met that she would introduce Bruno to. She found she didn’t trust her beaus with her tío, and if she didn’t then there was little point to continuing that relationship. Still, she was lonely and Bruno finding someone only highlighted that for her.

The day she met Guillermo she was not looking for him. She was working one of Paloma’s fashion shows, some of Mirabel’s own designs gracing the models strutting down the catwalk. Guillermo was catering the event. Mirabel had tasted his arepas con queso and been surprised. They were almost as good as her mother’s, almost. She said as much to him, not realizing he was the chef. The two got into a debate about sancocho of all things. He thought it was boring, she thought it was the perfect versatile and homey meal. That debate spilled into phone conversations, into hangouts that became dates.

They found they had much in common. Guillermo was also from a small town and the city was culture shock for him as well. He had a complicated relationship with his family too. He didn’t speak to his parents at all anymore after they all but disowned him when he decided to pursue his cooking passion rather than carry on the family business. His uncle had sponsored him going to culinary school and Guillermo worked hard from there to build his own restaurant from the ground up, gaining enough acclaim to land catering gigs like Paloma’s fashion shows at a young age. He and Mirabel traded stories about the difficulty of starting businesses and transitioning to city life. She didn’t lie to him about the reason for her coming to Bogotá, but she kept it vague, only saying that her family didn’t see the merit in her particular abilities just like his. Eventually, when they were together long enough, she did tell him about the Encanto. He thought she was insane, but eventually he accepted her words as fact.

Introducing him to Bruno and Diego was surprisingly easy. Guillermo was certainly a calmer addition to the trio, but he was also innately good-natured and witty, putting many at ease with him and her tíos were no exception. It seemed like no time at all before he was on one knee proposing to her and she was saying ‘yes’ without even thinking about it.

Mirabel Madrigal walked down the aisle on her Tío Bruno’s arm at 22 years old, a part of her wishing it was her Papi instead.

She stood across from Guillermo, grinning unabashedly. When her eyes strayed to the pews, she saw them filled with the few family members they could claim but mostly friends they had made along their journeys. The church was a lot fuller than she had imagined it would be, but she couldn’t help but pick out the places where her family would’ve been. The bouquets would’ve been ones crafted by Isabela. Antonio might’ve been a ringbearer if he didn’t decide he was too old for it. Her parents and Luisa would be in the front row, Luisa trying not to cry and her parents making no effort not to. Tía Pepa would have a rainbow over her head while Tío Félix smiled at her. Camilo would make a disgusted face when Mirabel and Gui shared their first kiss as man and wife. Dolores would cover her ears when the organ struck up the music, but she’d smile at her encouragingly. And Abuela…

Maybe, just maybe, she’d be proud of Mirabel.

The fantasy didn’t last long. There were only two Madrigals here. No, just one. She ended the day as Mirabel Muñoz.

She had said her vows with a smile but let out a stray tear as she realized she was no longer part of the family Madrigal. Then again, she hadn’t truly been since she was five years old. The ring made little difference in that. It did mean she had a new family, one she could build and craft with new parts and she would never be angry about that.

The first step in that was their home, one that was easily decided would house all four of them and any future members. They came together and built a home that reflected the success they found with Mirabel’s shop doing well along with Guillermo’s restaurant and her tíos’ plays.

Bruno and Diego were the first to move forward with adding to the family. Mirabel was delighted to meet Tomás and Gemma when her tíos brought the ten-year-olds home from the orphanage. They were timid at first, unsure and untrusting. They quickly fell in step with the small family, finding their oddities and chaotic nature funny and comforting. Bruno was especially great with them. Mirabel had seen the paternal side of him during their time together, but she never truly appreciated just how much he took caring for Mirabel to heart until she saw that same care bestowed upon her new primos. It only made her love her uncle more but also miss her parents.

She positively ached for them when she got pregnant with Isadora. How would her Papi have reacted? Knowing him, it would likely have been in some way to cause himself injury. But would he be happy? Would he have approved of Guillermo? And there was so much she wanted to go to her mother for, questions she wanted to ask. Sure, she could talk to Paloma or Elena, but it wasn’t the same. She loved them, but they weren’t her mother. Hell, she would’ve liked to have been able to talk to Tía Pepa or Abuela and get comfort from their past experiences. Abuela had birthed triplets in a small village with none of the city medicine available to Mirabel. She would’ve known how to coach Mirabel through her labor in ways others couldn’t. Her pregnancy also made her wonder if she was an aunt already. Isabela was about to marry Mariano when Mirabel left. Did they have children by now? Was Luisa married? Was she a mother? Was Mirabel’s daughter the first great grandchild of La Familia Madrigal with no one to know it?

But no, her daughter was a Muñoz, not a Madrigal. Though not for lack of trying.

Staring down at her daughter’s face after her birth, she was distinctly reminded of Antonio. Realistically, she knew Dora likely got most of her looks from her Papá. She inherited his dark skin and his chocolate brown eyes but had tufts of curls atop her head that was all Mirabel. Still, she thought she looked a lot like Antonio. The idea was comforting.

She watched Gui, Diego, Bruno, Gemma and Tomás meet Isadora and she did so with a smile. This was her familia. She had every generation, a family of people with issues, but a family with a firm foundation of love and acceptance. She would always miss the family she left behind, but if she never saw them again, she couldn’t say she wouldn’t have lived a life that was full.

This… glowing constellation was worth it. Not perfect, but real and hers.

Now …

Bruno eventually came back to himself and was vocally not pleased with Mirabel’s plan to go to the Encanto, mainly because she refused to bring him along.

“I’m a grown man, Mirabel. This is my choice to make,” Bruno asserted as the family sat around the kitchen table.

“It’s not about choices, it’s about practicality. If something is wrong in town, I don’t want you to become everyone’s scapegoat for it just because you had a sorta-vision.”

“I don’t care what they say, I can handle it.”

“You’ll grin and bear it at best and then make whole screenplays about the trauma of some lady saying you killed her fish,” Mirabel shot back.

“It wasn’t even a vision, her fish was already swimming on its side. Plus, she kept it in such a small bowl— that’s not the point! The point is I know what to expect from the town both from experience and from the visions I’ve had. I won’t let you waltz in there alone after ten years.”

“I won’t be alone, Guillermo and Dora are coming.”

“You think returning after ten years with a family is going to be better than walking in alone?”

“I think the magic is in danger and maybe it’s not our problem, but it is our family. Both here and there. Whatever is happening affected you so badly that you were nearly having visions, it put you in a dissociative state for days. The consequences aren’t staying within the limits of the Encanto. I need to know what it is so I can help.”

“You can’t stop it, Mirabel.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I know that better than anyone else does.”

“You’ve said yourself your visions don’t always come true and your dreams are even less reliable.”

“I still don’t think you should go without me.”

Mirabel was going to continue her argument, but Tomás jumped in.

“Papá, you’re not well enough to go,” the thirteen-year-old protested.

“Hijo, don’t worry about me. I’ve survived this long.”

“But Papá, this was only dreams. If you have a vision, maybe it’ll be worse. Maybe you won’t come back to yourself this time at all,” Gemma stated, her fears of losing another parent laid bare.

This made Bruno pause. Mirabel seized it.

“Tío, you’re in no shape to make the journey. You really think you can handle a train ride out of Bogotá, then a ride through multiple villages, then a hike to the mountains to get into the Encanto? You’ve just spent days bedridden. Don’t ask me to be okay with you taking that risk.”

That made Bruno look even more conflicted than before.

“Amado, they’re right,” Diego broke in.

“Ay, not you too. Is this gang up on Bruno day?”

“You’ve been doing so well lately and one vision of your family and its volver al punto de partida. I’m not saying you never see them, but let Mirabel scope things out, see what’s going on for herself. Then, once we get word back from her and you’re feeling stronger, we go to the Encanto.”

“Nosotros?”

“I'm not letting you face those people alone. Si tienen algo que decirle a mi marido, tienen algo que decirme a mí.”

“Us too,” Gemma piped up.

“Nobody insults our Papá and gets away with it,” Tomás added.

Bruno smiled abashedly at the familial show of support.

“Oh, stop it you guys.”

Mirabel smiled as she watched the twins move to embrace Bruno and Diego lean down to kiss the crown of his head. Bruno sighed after a while.

“I still don’t like this, but fine, go ahead to the Encanto. But you have to send a message as soon as you can. I mean it, mariposita. If I don’t hear from you in a week, then I’m coming there and no one can stop me. ¿Entendido?”

“Claromente.”

It was only later that the full weight of her decision hit her. She was going back to the Encanto, she was going home. She just dropped everything in her life to go running to a place she hadn’t seen in ten years. She had built a life in Bogotá that couldn’t be simply uprooted and moved. She had her shop, which she worked so hard to open. She had custom orders frequently and a few weddings and quinces pending. The orders were months out, but they were still her responsibility. Not to mention Guillermo had his restaurant and all of Isadora’s friends were in the city. What was she thinking, just up and leaving? She wasn’t fifteen anymore, she couldn’t make such an impulsive move without thinking of the consequences.

And ten years was long enough to change a person in drastic ways. It had changed Mirabel, changed Bruno, was it not entirely plausible that it would change la familia Madrigal as well? Would she recognize these people when she saw them? Would they know her? Would they be happy to see her?

“You’re spiraling, mi amor,” Guillermo whispered in her ear as they sat on the train out of Bogotá to the countryside.

“I’m freaking out. What was I thinking?”

“I don’t know if thinking is the word so much as panicking, just like now.”

“Do you really think that was helpful,” Mirabel hissed.

“I was hoping for a laugh at least,” Gui sighed, a little grimace on his face.

“Escúchame, whatever you’re thinking in your head, you’re making it to be worse than it actually is.”

“You don’t know that. What if… I mean, what if I get there and they throw me back out or they don’t recognize me or they don’t even remember me?”

Guillermo snorted at the last suggestion.

“You’re going to blow a blood vessel before we get there.”

“It’s not funny, it’s—”

“Mamá,” Isadora grumbled, roused from slumber by the sound.

Gui patted her head comfortingly.

“Tranquilo, cariña. Tu padres es aqui.”

Isadora eventually went back to sleep.

“As for you,” Gui started before rummaging around in his bag and pulling out something wrapped in foil.

“I brought this because I figured this would happen.”

Mirabel watched him unfold the wrapping to reveal a slice of natilla.

“When did you even—”

“A chef never tells his secrets. It’s your favorite anyway, so I made it. Plus, I have some polvorosas with your name on it. I just didn’t want to say in front of Dora. She would’ve never let me get away with it.”

“It’s not even Christmas.”

“Who says it needs to be a holiday to enjoy a delicious treat? Tómalo, or I’ll eat it myself.”

She took the treat with a wobbly smile, giving him a loving gaze. Although, the gesture of giving her food to comfort her made her think of Julieta. She hoped her mother would be happy to see her, happy to meet her yerno and nieta.

Gui reached across and caressed her cheek.

“I promise you, it won’t be as bad as you think. If they don’t see you for the amazing woman you are, then they don’t deserve powers. You are a gift, señorita milagra.”

“Oh, cállate. You’re going to make me blush.”

“I love it when you blush. You look even more beautiful and I thought that was impossible.”

Just like that, she was blushing.

“¡Ay, qué belleza!”

Mirabel dissolved into giggles for a moment before leaning over to kiss Gui.

“Gracias.”

“Para qué?”

“For taking my mind off things.”

“No hay problema, querida.”

Guillermo had to talk Mirabel down more times than she would like to admit as she swung between determination and fear at the idea of returning to the Encanto. Even when she got to Elena’s village, she was still unsure of her mission. Would she be able to face her family to figure out what was wrong with the miracle and Casita?

The choice, ultimately, was taken out of her hands. She didn’t plan to stay in Elena’s village for long, even though she was happy to see her old friend. The Muñoz family just needed a brief rest, mostly for Isadora’s sake, before moving on.

While she was there, she had no qualms about assisting Elena with her shop. Elena had a list of deliveries that Mirabel insisted she could do for her. She still remembered where everyone was. The last delivery was to the Guzmans. There were several different Guzman families in Elena’s village but none of them lived at the address Elena had listed, unless Señora Guzman from the house by the river had finally gotten her son married off.

Mirabel approached the house with a shrug and knocked on the door. It swung open and she was shocked to see Mariano Guzman standing on the other side. They stared at each other silently for a moment, neither managing a word.

Wait, but if Mariano was here, then that meant Isabela…

Mirabel caught a distinctly feminine shadow moving around in a room just off the doorway. Some madness overtook her and she didn’t even think about it before she shoved past Mariano, ignoring his protests as she barreled into the home.

“Isabela! Isabela, I’m…” Mirabel trailed off as she entered the kitchen to find the woman was not her sister.

Mirabel stared at her, her face just as stunned as the woman’s. She faintly noted the sleeping infant in her arms as Mariano entered the kitchen and wrapped a protective arm around his… wife? Girlfriend? Mistress?

Either way, she wasn’t Isabela, but she was still family.

Mirabel gave Dolores an awkward wave as she continued staring at the younger woman, wide-eyed.

“Hola, prima. Long time no see.”

Then …

Mirabel was not certain at first what she wanted her daughter to know about the Encanto. She did not want to keep her family history from her daughter. Afterall, she was as entitled to that legacy as Mirabel was. At the same time, Isadora wasn’t old enough to see the stories as anything other than fairytales. Did she want to present her life as fact or fiction? Guillermo couldn’t tell her what to do about her family one way or another. For his part, he had taken to never mentioning his family to their daughter at all. The only Muñoz Mirabel or Isadora knew of other than Guillermo was his uncle and that was how Gui wanted it. Mirabel didn’t press him about it, but she couldn’t take as much of a scorched earth approach as he did. She loved her family, even when they hurt her, even when she left them. She wanted Isadora to love them too.

She decided that when Dora was older, she could explain the nuances of said family, but for now, fairytales that weren’t actually fiction would have to do. She would sing about the magical Madrigals and tell anecdotes about Agustín’s misfortunes, Camilo’s pranks, Luisa’s feats of strength and Tía Pepa and Tío Félix’s rare but cataclysmic arguments.

Isadora lapped it all up with zeal, declaring one person her favorite or another on any given day. There was a time when she demanded to wear at least one flower everyday so she could be like Isabela. That was a trip and a half for Mirabel, that her older sister whom she had a questionable relationship with would be her daughter’s favorite more than not, but it was mostly because of their name similarities so Mirabel didn’t dwell too hard.

“Mamá, I wanna go to the Encanto,” Isadora commented one night mid-story.

Mirabel gave her a sad smile.

“I’d like to go one day too.”

“I could have a gift, like Tía Isa and Abuela Juli.”

“Maybe, but even if you didn’t, you would be just as special as anyone else. You know why?”

“Why?”

“Because you’re you, and that’s all you ever need to be. Gifts are just a bonus. The real miracle is always you, just you.”

“Hmm. Making flowers is good too though.”

Mirabel snickered at her daughter’s one-track mind.

“I guess it is, yes.”

“What about you, Mamá? What would be your gift?”

“I don’t need one, I already have you and your Papá. That is all I need.”

Now …

The clock was ticking very loudly, Mirabel noted as she sat at Dolores and Mariano’s dining room table. Or maybe that was just because the room was so silent. Mariano had gone to put their daughter to sleep while the cousins stayed in the kitchen. Dolores had made tea for them, but neither had managed many words yet. The clock let out a noise to mark the new hour, causing both of them to jump and then glance away with embarrassment before returning their gazes to one another. They’d been doing a lot of that, staring. It wasn’t even uncomfortable, Mirabel just couldn’t make her eyes stray away from the older woman for long.

Dolores didn’t look wildly different. Her hair, which Mirabel was used to seeing in a top bun was let loose, though she still wore her red bow. She also looked more tired than Mirabel had seen her, though she recognized that look from having a new baby.

She also noted that she didn’t see a ring on Dolores’ finger.

Dolores must’ve noticed her staring because she moved her hands so they were hidden from Mirabel’s view. She glanced up to see her cousin’s face shifting through a plethora of emotions before she met Mirabel’s eyes with a mixture of guilt, anger and exhaustion.

“You’ve been gone a long time, Mirabel.”

“I have. A lot has happened, I’m sure.”

She sat up straighter, coming to the realization that though this meeting was unexpected, there was no one better than Dolores for her to have run into. Dolores couldn’t keep many secrets, she could learn everything she’d need to know about the family right here.

“I mean, you’re here with Mariano instead of…”

“Instead of Isabela?”

“Well, yeah. That marriage seemed pretty set in stone when I left.”

Dolores looked away for a moment, more guilt pouring into her face. Mirabel had an inkling but let Dolores speak.

“You leaving changed a lot for us, Mirabel. One moment you were there and the next you weren’t. We searched for you for months before giving up. I heard the letter you wrote from when Tía Julieta read it to Abuela. Tía blamed Abuela for you running away. I’ve never seen Tía like that. The argument was huge. That’s when we first started noticing the cracks.”

“Cracks?”

“In Casita. There was a huge one through the nursery door. When Tía and Abuela fought, cracks opened in the kitchen. I noticed cracks around the door to Bruno’s tower. I assume that only happened when he left with you. He did leave with you, didn’t he? I stopped hearing him in the walls the same night.”

Mirabel opened her mouth before closing it again. Of course Dolores had known Bruno was in the walls. She was surprised she had managed to keep that secret. She wordlessly nodded to Dolores’ question, who took her affirmation with a resolute nod of her own.

“Things settled for a bit, though it was extremely tense in the house. We didn’t really talk about you after we called off the search but the rift between Abuela and Tía Julieta was still there. Every family dinner was strained, filled with unspoken words and anger. Abuela poured her attention even more into Isabela and her engagement with Mariano, the perfection of them as a couple, the rightness,” Dolores described, though Mirabel noted a hint of bitterness that she tried to hide.

“She never wanted to marry him, you know? Isabela only did it because Abuela wanted it, because she thought it would strengthen the Encanto. Strengthening the Encanto meant having new generations of Madrigals. Isabela and Mariano tried and tried and tried some more, but nothing worked. There was nothing for Tía Julieta to fix, there was nothing taking hold in Isabela that would grow into the future of the Madrigals. Abuela was… disappointed. It only got worse once Luisa got married and had a son the same year. There were whispers in town about Isabela and Mariano, gossip about bad omens. They started calling her the barren flower. Some people even thought you were to blame, that you cursed Isabela out of jealousy before you left.”

Mirabel snorted at that. Of course she would still be a source of blame years after she had left for something there was no way she had any part in.

“But if Isa and Mariano were still married, then how…” Mirabel trailed off questioningly.

“Isabela and Mariano were never like either of our parents. Sure, Mariano held the illusion of love for a while, but that faded. Isabela’s drive to please the family could only go so far. There was no love between them, there wasn’t even friendship. Add the failed pregnancies, Abuela’s expectations and the town’s chatter, it was easy for resentment to grow. Isa started spending more and more time outside of the house, never telling anyone where she was going. But I knew. I heard her going to see her old “friend” Carmen Delgado. I heard them talking for hours. I heard Isa crying and Carmen comforting her. I heard them kissing.”

Mirabel had a flash of memory back to when she barged into Isabela’s room and caught her and Carmen mid lip-lock. She hadn’t truly thought about it before telling Abuela beyond the fact that Isabela shouldn’t have been kissing anyone, girl or boy, and that infraction in propriety would mean Mirabel was better than her for once. She only learned later how dangerous her actions were in outing Isabela. If it had been more public like Bruno’s, she probably would’ve been forced to stay with Father Flores until the controversy died down. Instead, Isabela became even more perfect than before and the resentment between the two sisters grew deeper.

She couldn’t say what Isabela was thinking when she decided to start having an affair. She wouldn’t have thought the perfect princess would ever do something like that. But from what Dolores was saying, there was little perfection to be found for Isa. The life that Abuela had mapped out for her was falling apart. There was a husband she didn’t love and her body, which easily produced flor de mayo by the mile, refused the natural growth of conception. The longer she went without children, the more the rumors would stir. Rumors would lead to whispers. Whispers would lead to gossip. Gossip would find its way back to Abuela, who would be displeased by the stain on the family reputation. Furthermore, it would lead to Isabela’s ostracization and isolation. Mirabel knew about that vicious cycle well from her own experience. It wasn’t a justification for Isabela’s choices, but it was certainly a reason.

Mirabel’s eyes switched back to Dolores whose guilty visage was now tinged with shame as well. Mirabel narrowed her eyes.

“Prima, what did you do?”

“I didn’t mean— I just wanted— Abuela was beside herself I wasn’t married yet. I put so many suitors off because I… I still hoped that… anyway, this time Mamá was on her side. She said she wasn’t getting any younger and she wanted grandbabies from her only hija. They started bringing Pablo around.”

“Osvaldo’s nephew?”

“Mmm. He was nice, but he wasn’t what I wanted. I didn’t know how else to get out of it and with Isabela and Carmen, it seemed like I finally had a chance with… so I told him about them. He confronted Isabela and she admitted to the affair. Abuela heard and eventually the whole family knew. The fight that happened… and Isabela was so betrayed, I felt awful. She decided to move in with Carmen. The cracks in Casita got even worse when Isabela left. I tried to stay away from Mariano after that, spend time with Pablo like Abuela wanted. Isa and Mariano were separated, but they weren’t divorced. Mariano and I got to talking one night and I remembered why he was the man of my dreams. I know most people see him as a fool, and he does talk very loudly, but he takes care of his mother. He writes lovely poetry. He’s so protective of others and always willing to go out of his way to help. It was so easy to fall in love.”

Dolores had a strange mixture of a love-stricken and forlorn expression on her face that Mirabel didn’t know she’d ever seen on anyone before.

“We kept it secret for as long as we could, but then I got pregnant with Lola. A Madrigal would be having a baby out of wedlock with a man who was technically still married to a separate Madrigal, mi prima who struggled unsuccessfully for years to have a baby. Abuela didn’t want that getting out to the townsfolk, didn’t want the rumors to start. She was going to have me stay at the church until the baby was born and then decide what to do, but me and Mariano figured it was better if we left the Encanto entirely. We would never be able to live there without the cloud of all the drama that came before. We didn’t want our daughter to be made a pariah and outcast because of us. I didn’t want Isabela to have to look at her every day when she couldn’t have her own child. And I… I wanted a chance to be happy. I wanted to be more than my gift, more than the Encanto’s ears. I wanted my own life, that’s all. You left for that reason, so did Isabela, maybe Bruno too. Why not me?”

Dolores’ eyes were shining with tears. Mirabel had to look away to take a deep breath. She didn’t expect all of this when she entered this house. She thought she’d find Isabela, still perfectly graceful and surrounded by flowers. Instead, there was Dolores, who was in love enough that she elected to remain brokenhearted.

“And are you happy, Dolores?”

The woman in question, glanced out the window with a hand to her ear. Mirabel couldn’t hear more than birds and indistinct chatter. Outside of the Encanto, Dolores would likely hear the same.

Her prima held her position a moment before dropping her hand from her ear, a softer smile gracing her lips.

“It’s so quiet.”

Dolores’ voice was full of wonder and relief on the simple sentence that it made Mirabel’s heart constrict, but there was one pervading thought in her mind.

She had to go back home.

Then …

Mirabel sat with as much stillness as a four-year-old could muster at her grandmother’s feet. It was made even more impossible with Camilo jostling around beside her. Abuela paused her lesson to give them a stern look, stopping their fidgeting instantly before she let out a sigh.

“Maybe we’d better move to story time, hmm?”

Both children enthusiastically agreed.

“Can we hear the story of the miracle, Abuela,” Mirabel piped up.

“We already know that story, Mira,” Camilo complained.

“I want to hear it again,” Mirabel retorted.

“Por favor, Abuela. Please, please, please.”

“Okay, okay,” Abuela conceded, chuckling good-naturedly.

“Long ago, when my three babies had just been born, your Abuelo Pedro and I were forced to flee our home. And though many joined us, hoping to find a new home... we could not escape the dangers... and your Abuelo was lost. But in our darkest moment we were given a miracle. The candle became a magical flame that could never go out...”