Chapter Text
Mirabel smiled as she finished her new project: a shawl for Señora Silva. Antonio’s jaguar got a hold of it and ruined it accidentally, and poor Antonio had to teach him not to ruin anyone else’s clothing. It fit her perfectly, with spools and threaded needles embroidered in the pattern. Yes, Señora Silva would love it.
Mirabel packaged it and headed out to deliver it when she spotted Isabela inspecting different wedding bouquets, muttering under her breath. Her smile soured; ever since Isabela’s engagement dinner, she’d taken any chance to belittle Mirabel and rub her success in her face.
Mirabel hurried past. She was not interested in another fruitless argument.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
Mirabel tensed. “Making a delivery for Señora Silva. I won’t be in your hair.”
“Why would she want anything from you?”
Mirabel held back the retort. No use getting in trouble with Abuela. The last time she snapped back at Isabela, Abuela grounded her for a week. She didn’t want Abuela to have another reason to keep Mirabel inside the house outright.
“I hope you find the perfect bouquet. I have a delivery to make.”
“No, you’re not.”
A vine wrapped around Mirabel’s ankle, and she whirled around, nearly falling on the ground. Isabela pulled Mirabel up and shoved her into the corner.
“What do you want, Isabela? I have a delivery to make.”
“The seamstress can wait for you. I need you to hold my creations while I determine which one I will take down the aisle.”
Mirabel rolled her eyes. “Now, you want me involved? I was barely welcome at your engagement dinner, and I know I’m not on the bridesmaid list.”
“You should be honored that I have a reason this time to involve you.” Isabela shoved a bouquet of pink and red roses into Mirabel’s arms, humming and adjusting the flowers. Mirabel held back a sneeze; the pollen was almost overwhelming. She removed it and shoved another bouquet, removing some ruined roses and replacing them with forget-me-nots.
“Isabela, are you sure you need me for this?” Mirabel asked. “I’ve got a delivery to make, and I promised Señora Silva I would get her new shawl delivered today.”
“Nope. My need for you is more important than the seamstress.”
“Abuela told me to stay out of the planning. She’ll blame me if she sees this. Just use Dolores or someone else.”
Isabela rolled her eyes. “My wedding to Mariano is more important than Señora Silva’s shawl. Just be useful for once!”
Mirabel stopped, tears welling in her eyes. Ever since Antonio’s gift ceremony, Isabela took the chance to emphasize that Mirabel didn’t fit into the family because she didn’t value the family enough. Abuela never did anything about it, but she did seem to glance at Mirabel as if wondering the same idea. She gave up on helping out after Abuela told her to step aside, trying to avoid everyone as much as possible.
Isabela seemed to notice the tears. “What, Mirabel? Don’t bother me with your tears. You know it’s true.”
“Why can’t you be nice like Valeria?”
Mirabel shut her mouth just as the words came out. Isabela froze, a look of surprise on her face. The flowers wilted in Mirabel’s arms.
“Never mind,” Mirabel said, pushing the flower bouquet into Isabela’s arms. “You don’t need me for this. I have a delivery to make. I’ll see you at dinner.”
Isabela grabbed Mirabel. “You’re not leaving without an explanation.”
“I don’t need to explain myself to you. You won’t listen anyway.”
“No, I need to know why you think I should be like Valeria.”
“I won’t answer you.”
Isabela growled. “Yes, you will! Why do you think it’s so terrible to be around me? I’m your sister.”
“Because I’ll ruin your flowers. I ruin everything for you. You made that clear when you and Abuela told me to butt out of the wedding plans. I wasn’t even planning to be a part of it!”
“No, you’re staying.” Isabela pushed the tray of flowers into Mirabel’s hands. “You can at least be useful in holding a tray.”
Mirabel pushed it back. “This is your wedding, not mine. I just want to make a delivery because the only way I’ll be useful to you is by staying out of the way.”
“No, you’re not disappearing on me again! Valeria doesn’t deserve you hanging around her.”
“I promised Señora Silva her new shawl, and I’m not going to disappoint her like I disappoint you and Abuela.”
“She can wait. I need you right now!”
“No, you don’t!”
“Why can’t you help me just this once, False Madrigal?”
Now, Isabela went too far. Mirabel shoved the tray back into Isabela, but she pushed too hard, and the contents spilled all over the ground. Isabela stumbled backward, catching herself by the pillar. Mirabel grabbed the package and turned to run.
“Lock her in!”
The doors to Casita shut, and Mirabel shook as she turned, facing an irate Abuela.
“What do you think you’re doing?” she asked. “Your sister asked for your help, and that is how you respond.”
“I was—”
Abuela waved her hand. “I don’t want to hear your excuses. Whatever you were doing, it can wait. Isabela wants your help, and you will help her.”
“I promised Señora Silva—”
“Don’t make up excuses, Mirabel Madrigal. Your sister wants your help. You don’t leave until she’s done. And then, stay out of her way.”
Mirabel shook. “She never asked me for help before! Why should I help her? And that was what I was trying to do! She’s the one who pulled me back.”
“She’s your sister, Mirabel.”
“She’s never acted like it. She even sides with my bullies in town over me.”
“Isabela would never!”
“She does! I’m just trying to stay out of the way so nothing’s ruined. But, that’s not enough for you!”
Abuela narrowed her gaze, and she grabbed the package. “I will deliver this to Señora Silva. You are a Madrigal, and if Isabela asks for your help, she will get it. You can at least do that without a gift.”
Her anger bubbled over, and any sense of control disappeared.
“Maybe I don’t want to be a Madrigal!”
Both Isabela and Abuela widened their eyes. Mirabel shook, the tears welling and the anger coursing through her.
“Why can’t you be like Sofia’s abuela? Why can’t you ask how I’m doing from time to time? Why don’t you spend time with me one-on-one like we used to? Or did any affection for me vanish just like my door?” She rounded on Isabela. “And why can’t you be Valeria? Why do you not protect me when Hugo and his gang bully me? Where were you when Hugo was stealing my lunches and ruining my clothes? Valeria defends me while you tell me I deserve it. They seem to actually treat me like family, while you’re more than happy to cast me aside unless it benefits you.”
Abuela slapped Mirabel, and she stumbled backward.
“That’s enough out of you. Go to your room and don’t come down until breakfast tomorrow. I’m ashamed of you.”
Mirabel looked down, her cheek stinging from the blow. She rushed up the stairs, pausing before the nursery door and shouting, “It’s not like you ever notice me anyway.”
Mirabel slammed the nursery door and burst into tears, letting every negative emotion out before falling asleep.
***
The nursery door slammed shut, and Alma shook her head in dismay. Mirabel knew better than to anger her, and she didn’t mean to avoid everyone. Did she think they didn’t care? Of course they did. She’d gone and talked with Señora Silva about fitting Mirabel into a bridesmaid dress, and here she was claiming that they didn’t care enough for her.
“Abuela, do you think we did that?” Isabela asked, shaking slightly. “She thinks Valeria is a better sister!”
“She’s just being emotional,” Alma said. “Tomorrow, she’ll realize that we’re her family. Besides, she cannot go and ruin our good name just because she didn’t get a gift.” She sighed. “I’ll get Señora Silva’s shawl to her. Continue inspecting the flowers, okay?”
Isabela nodded and removed the wilted flowers, composing a wedding bouquet. Alma picked up the package and headed to the seamstress’ shop. As soon as the bell rang, Señora Silva rushed forward.
“Mirabel! I’ve been—” Her face fell. “Oh, Doña Alma. How can I help you?”
“I believe Mirabel wanted to deliver this,” Alma said. “Unfortunately, she wasn’t able to.”
“Did Isabela hurt her again?”
Alma blinked. “How do you mean?”
“The only other time she couldn’t deliver something, Isabela had wrapped her in thorny vines and broke her leg.”
Alma paused, paling slightly. Isabela claimed it was an accident, and that Mirabel was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. But, if Señora Silva was right, maybe Isabela needed to relearn her power and the limits she needed to place on them.
“Isabela hurt Mirabel?” Alma asked. “Tell me it was a one-time thing.”
“Unfortunately, it’s not,” Señora Silva said. “She often belittles Mirabel out of your sight and hearing, and she turns a blind eye when Hugo targets Mirabel. It seems Sofia and Valeria are better at protecting her.” She frowned. “Or did you bar Mirabel from delivering this?”
“She’s confined to her room for the time being.”
“You mean the nursery.” Señora Silva shook her head. “Did Mirabel say something?”
“She said she doesn’t want to be a Madrigal.”
Alma expected Señora Silva to agree with her, to see that Mirabel was just being childish and selfish. Surely, they understood that Mirabel was a Madrigal, and she belonged with them, even if she was giftless.
“Well, I don’t blame her.”
Alma stopped. “Care to repeat that?”
Señora Silva shook her head again. “Look, you might care for her deep down, but keeping her in the nursery, a room meant for children, and continually telling her to stay out of the way doesn’t demonstrate that.” She opened the package and smiled. “At least, she delivers quality. And an apprenticeship with me also entails a room.”
Alma gaped at the shawl. It was midnight blue, with yellow, green, and pink spools of thread and silver needles all around the edges, threaded and creating unique patterns.
“Good thing, too.” Señora Silva sighed. “Now, do you need anything else from me?”
“No. Buenas noches.”
Alma left the shop, still wondering why she hadn’t seen Mirabel’s issues. Perhaps, she needed to remind Mirabel where she belonged.
If Mirabel took up Señora Silva’s offer, what would the town think? Would they also villianize Mirabel like they did Bruno? Would they start to wonder if they were undeserving of the miracle?
Alma shook her head. No, something was wrong, and she would make sure Mirabel didn’t ruin the family name just because she didn’t get a gift.
She returned and found Julieta preparing dinner. She pulled out Mirabel’s plate when Alma moved into the kitchen.
“Mirabel won’t join us,” Alma said.
Julieta arched an eyebrow. “Why?”
Alma paused. Did she want to tell Julieta about Mirabel’s claim? Her eldest would fret about it, and she never abandoned Mirabel when she was upset. It would cause more problems than she needed.
“She’s…not in the right headspace to join the family right now.”
Julieta sighed. “Did Isabela insult her again?”
“She’s…dealing with silly thoughts right now. She needs her space.”
“Fine. I’ll make her a plate for later.”
Alma left the kitchen, guilt knotting her stomach. She hated lying, but she didn’t want Julieta racing up to the nursery and finding out about Alma’s punishment. No, it was better that she save a plate for Mirabel.
She took her seat at the head of the table. All they needed was a good night’s sleep, and things would be better in the morning.
***
Pedro fumed as his nieta’s sobbing rang in his ears. The family was just pretending that Mirabel hadn't been hurt. Did they even know just how much he’d seen? This wasn’t the woman he married years ago. The Alma he married would never have treated Mirabel like this.
Well, if Mirabel wanted a better family, she would get one. Alma needed to learn that Mirabel wasn’t given a gift because she didn’t need one. The gifts were meant for them, not the whole community, and no one seemed to care enough about her.
Except for Antonio. He wasn’t the problem.
Pedro turned to the Miracle spirit, who looked equally angry at the scene before them. “I need to fix this.”
“And you will,” the Miracle said. “What’s your plan?”
“Make a false reality. Take away the gifts. They need to fix their relationship with Mirabel without magic and ten years of emotional baggage.”
The Miracle nodded. “And it will be done. I would let Alma know, though.”
Pedro pursed his lips. “Oh, I intend to.”