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Camilo trudged down the dimly lit hallway of Casa Madrigal, his shoulders slumped after a long day of shape-shifting. The wooden floors creaked beneath his feet as he walked, barely paying attention to his surroundings. His toe caught on something solid, and he stumbled forward, catching himself against the wall.
"¡Mier-" he began, but before he could finish the word, a stern voice interrupted him.
"Watch your language!"
Camilo froze. The voice had come from... somewhere? He spun around, his curly hair whipping about his face as he searched for its source. The hallway was empty except for the familiar portraits that lined the walls – including the large painting of Abuelo Pedro that had watched over their family for generations.
He could have sworn the voice sounded familiar, but there was no one around. The only movement Camilo caught was the slight settling of dust behind one of the portrait frames.
Camilo squinted at the portrait of his grandfather, a man he had never met but whose presence still commanded respect in their magical home. "Abuelo?" he whispered uncertainly as if the portrait would respond; and at this point he wouldn’t have been surprised.
The portrait remained still, Pedro's kind eyes gazing out at nothing in particular. Behind it, hidden from Camilo's view, Bruno pressed his hand over his mouth to stifle a chuckle, his rats chittering quietly beside him in the secret passage.
Camilo shook his head and carefully stepped over the box that had caused his near-fall. As he continued down the hallway, he could have sworn he heard muffled laughter coming from within the walls, but in Casa Madrigal, that was just another ordinary occurrence.
