15. Chapter 15

A/N:Edited 6/24/22 for spelling and grammar.

Hope you all had a Happy Easter, if you celebrate! Ours was lovely despite the fact that we got snow. T.T Come on spring, I need you!

What was originally one chapter had to be broken up into two parts because it got a little long. So I will post one chapter today and then another chapter tomorrow, because in my head they 'go together' and I can't have you waiting a whole week for the second part. I don't know how else to explain it, but there you have it.

Chapter 15

Nothing happened, for three days.

Except for the fact that Bruno found plenty of reasons to check on Lucía. He 'forgot' several things at her house and came back sporadically to pick them up, and he forgot and then remembered to bring Josefina flowers from Isabela for her school project. He was acting weird and he knew it, but he denied that anything was wrong and everyone else just chalked it up to Bruno being Bruno (and him possibly having nerves about the approaching festival) and let it slide.

Even Lucía was starting to look at him as though she was concerned, but he didn't want to tell her the truth. He thought, perhaps, it might have something to do with the murales in town, but when they had walked past it the other day on their way to his house he commented on it and she hadn't seemed phased by it still being in disrepair. So he wasn't sure why, exactly, that particular image had been tied to the one of Lucía. He'd paid close attention to conversations involving her father, her daughter, and her sister's family, but there wasn't anything in them that triggered a sense of impending doom. He didn't know what would give her that haunted, empty look in her eyes.

He knew he couldn't prevent it. He just didn't want her to be sad, alone.

And so, aside from Bruno acting like a total weirdo, nothing happened for three days.

And than a whole lot happened at once.

"Okay, Tío, what is going on?"

Bruno jumped and nearly dropped the prop he was working on at his desk as Mirabel barged into his room unannounced.

"Ay, niña! What's going on is you're going to give me a heart attack one of these days if you keep doing that!" He gasped.

"Sorry," Mirabel winced, and then crossed her arms. "But seriously, what is going on? You're jumpy and nervous and won't answer a straight question and you've been hanging out a whole lot with..." her eyes got really big. "...Señora Moreno." She cocked her head to the side and gave him a suspicious look.

"What? Lucía? She has nothing to do with this!" And that was a lie, and it was one Mirabel obviously saw straight through. "I mean, she has something to do with this," he said, trying to cover for himself, waving the prop in his hands. "And of course I'm spending a lot of time with her, we're working on that story you all coerced us into. But - "

"Dolores said you went to her house this morning to give Josefina plants. From Isa."

"They were for a school project, she needed them!"

"We were all already at school. And they were technically weeds she could have picked from a crack in the street."

"Don't let Isabela hear you say that."

"They grow everywhere! She didn't need them from Isa."

They were at a standoff, eyes narrowed and arms crossed across their chests.

"...Tío."

"...Mirabel."

All of a sudden, a thought occurred to Mirabel and her face went slack with shock before a sly smile spread across her face. "Ooooooohhhhh." She said, nodding. "Its okay, your secret is safe with me!"

"...what secret." Bruno said flatly.

"It's okay, Tío, if you're a little shy about it! But she's a really nice lady and Josefina is a sweet kid and..." she stepped back and held her hands up, framing her confused and disgruntled tío with her fingers. "I could help you with a new look, to impress her, you know? Where's that ruana I made you?" She spun on her heel and stalked across the room, flinging open his wardrobe.

"Impress who? Mirabel..." Bruno said sharply, in warning.

Mirabel blinked. "Lucía. Señora Moreno. You know. The pretty lady from the library and print shop." She gave him a knowing smile and his favorite sobrina winked at him. Winked!

Bruno froze, absolutely mortified. "What?!" He yelped. "No! No no no no no no. That's not -" he pinched his fingers to his nose. "That's not - I'm not trying to impress her."

Mirabel frowned. "Oh...but..."

"I had a vision and she was - so incredibly sad and I'm just trying to make sure she's going to be okay because I don't know why she's going to be sad. Or when!"

Mirabel's expression fell. "Oh. Tío - I'm so sorry, I didn't..."

He sighed. "It's okay, it's fine."

An awkward silence hung between them for a moment.

"So..." Mirabel said. "Why is she going to be sad? Can we prevent it?"

Bruno shook his head. "We can't prevent it. I saw it. You know everything I see happens. I can't change it, but I - I'm hoping I can help. Like with - like with Dolores and the Tatiana...thing."

Mirabel pursed her lips, her eyes sliding away from his as she thought. "Tío," she said gently. "Have you actually tried to have a vision since your gift returned?"

"...I've had visions."

"Involuntary ones, right? But have you, you know...looked?"

"...No."

She stared at him with pleading eyes. "Then how do you know, if you haven't looked, that there might not be more than one outcome? I mean, my vision had two possibilities, and sure, maybe they both came true, but what if - what if hugging Isa had worked? I mean, it did work, but then – ah. What if Abuela had listened and we began healing the miracle instead of - you know-" her fingers waved in front of her. " - destroying and rebuilding it?"

Bruno paused. She had a point. Her vision was different. And, with her help, he had been able to refocus on another aspect of the vision, something he hadn't seen before.

"Everyone else's gift has changed, just a little. Maybe yours has too?"

Bruno sighed. "Okay. I'll try. But just this once. And I'm not going to invade Lucía's privacy by looking into her future. I'm just - going to focus on – another part of the vision. We'll see if anything changes there, if we can get any answers that way. Okay?"

Mirabel nodded, determination on her face.

Bruno attempted to ignore the growing tension in his stomach as he stood at the bottom of the short flight of stairs to his vision cave, after gathering the items they would need for the vision. His involuntary visions did not require anything special - they just sort of showed up, and only he could see them. But to actually look into the future, he needed sand, and the smoke from burning leaves helped provide a clearer image in the sand. It made it easier for whoever was inside the vision circle to see the vision.

He took a deep breath through his nose and closed his eyes.

He would not throw up.

He would not throw up.

He took a step, and he did not throw up.

So far, success.

By the time he reached his vision cave, a slight sheen of sweat had broken out across his face, but he had not thrown up.

He could do this.

It wasn't life or death. Lucía had been sad, but she hadn't been hurt. And no one aside from Mirabel knew about this.

He pressed his fingers to his breast pocket. Safely beneath his ruana and in his shirt pocket lay the folded note Josefina had made him that she, Lucía, and Señor Hernandez had signed.

"They're always accurate," he mumbled. "They just don't tell the whole story." Here's to hoping Mirabel could help him figure out more to this particular story.

He pressed his palm to the stone door and as it swung open, and he gasped.

It had been almost two months, and he hadn't worked up the courage to go up to his new vision cave. He wasn't interested in having a vision, so why would he go to the place dedicated to having them?

The old one was dark and sealed in, with stone walls molded into a tight sphere, the sound of sand echoing through the chamber giving everything a tomb-like feel.

This one was nothing like the old one. He realized he could not call it a 'cave' anymore.

The ceiling was high, as high as it was in Antonio, Isabela, or Pepa's rooms, and he wasn't sure if it was the actual sky or the magic of the miracle, but there was an actual sky. It was bright blue, and he was fairly sure the sun was in the same place in this room as it was outside.

The walls of the vision room were a warm brown sandstone with yellow undertones, and instead of perfectly circular, they were almost like panels, reaching up to the sky-ceiling like mini mountains. Low bushes and palm fronds squatted beside the walls, and small green vines with heart-shaped leaves crawled up the stone panels, small flowers blooming along them. There were red flowers with thin, pointed petals and purple ones with close, velvety clusters of flowers. The air smelled fresh and faintly honeyed. A waterfall rushed steadily over the panel directly across from him and split into a small canal on either side of a small circular island. The canal flowed in front of the plants along the walls, and the waters came back together and rushed under the rock beneath his feet, disappearing into the walls of the Casita. He wondered vaguely if it was somehow connected to the water in Antonio's room.

A small stone bridge connected the sandstone entrance to the circular island in the center of the room. It was actually multiple concentric circles. The outermost circle was that of the canal, then a granite path. Within the granite path was a perfect circle of sand, and then there was another circle of sandstone within that.

It was absolutely beautiful.

"Tío?" Mirabel murmured from somewhere behind him.

He blinked and brushed his cheeks with his fingers, and they came away damp. He hadn't even realized he was crying. He drew in a shaky breath, cleared his tears away with his hands, and stepped to the side so she could enter, and when she did, her mouth dropped open in awe.

"Tío," she gasped and turned toward him. "It's – this - "

"Heh." He shrugged and gave her a lopsided smile. "I know. Right?" His throat felt thick and he cleared it.

Mirabel threw her arms around him so suddenly it almost knocked him over. "It's the perfect room for a perfect tío." She whispered.

He hugged her back for a moment and then she stepped away, straightened her shoulders, and nodded. "Ready?"

He nodded in return. "Ready."

Since he did not need to pour out a circle of sand, he simply stepped over the bridge and into the innermost circle. He took a handful of sand from the perimeter and made five smaller piles in the center of the circle, and then placed the leaves he'd brought inside them. He was privately glad he didn't need to take any from the plants growing in his little sanctuary. It would feel wrong to take anything beautiful away from this place.

He lit a match and then the leaves, and as he shook out the match, Mirabel joined him in the circle, as she had for her vision. She smiled at him in encouragement and held out her hands, and he took them.

He tapped into the connection of power he always felt glowing in his chest, and the sands from the circle around them began to swirl, enclosing them in a mini-dome of glowing grains.

He concentrated on the image of the murales in town. His eyes glowed green, and the vision appeared in front of them. It began to shift to Lucía, but he ground his teeth and willed the image of the murales to stay. It blurred and then came back into focus.

Nothing happened.

He felt disappointment well up in his chest, but Mirabel gripped his hands, squeezing them gently. "Look for that butterfly," she called over the sound of the sand. She frowned and squinted, and – sure enough – the little golden butterfly flitted around the dome of glowing sand, past an image of – a bucket of – mortar? Or maybe paint? It was hard to tell, as the vision was made of green sand, and it was impossible to differentiate colors. And then Señora Díaz, who owned the building the murales was painted on. Señora Díaz nodded, and the murales disappeared. The wall it had been on was smooth and clean.

Mirabel's eyes met Bruno's in confusion. "It – what?"

He shrugged and the vision changed, again, to Lucía on the bench. She sat there, staring, her eyes as blank as the wall the murales had been on. He frowned and pushed the image away with his power, intending to refocus on the murales, but Mirabel jerked his hand again. "Look!"

There was the butterfly again, and Bruno peered uneasily at it as now, Lucía was not alone on the bench. Someone sat down beside her. A hand took hers. And she turned to look at the person, and her expression changed, lifting just a bit. Bruno focused on the person – he assumed it was her sister, Sofia, or perhaps her father – he could let them know - but the grains of sand fell into place –

- and it was him.

In the vision, he took her hand, and Lucia looked up at him, leaning forward and grasping his ruana, near his shoulder, with her other hand. She looked – almost desperate, but still – relieved, somehow?

His heart did a funny pirouette in his chest and the sands condensed into an emerald green tablet in his hands before settling back into the circle around him and Mirabel.

He blinked at it.

He shifted it one way, and Lucía sat on the bench, alone, her expression blank and empty.

He shifted it the other way – and just like Mirabel's vision had done – the vision changed. He sat beside her on the bench, holding her hand, her clinging to him, her expression still sad but her eyes still bright, still full of emotion.

Mirabel sat beside him in the circle, leaning over his shoulder to see.

He shifted it to show her, and Mirabel blinked. "How do you save a miracle? Hug a sister. How do you help a friend? Hold her hand."

Bruno shrugged. "I mean, makes as much sense as yours, I suppose." His brows furrowed together as he continued to shift the tablet back and forth.

Mirabel sighed. "How sweet." She had that smile on her face again.

Bruno frowned at her. "No. Nope! Do not look at me like that. It's not like that. We're friends. I finally have a friend and I'm not going to let it get weird like that after just two months!"

Mirabel smirked at him. "Okay, so you're saying you'll wait a little longer and then let it get 'weird'?"

"Okay, this – this obviously took a turn," he said sternly. "Do not repeat this conversation or that idea of yours to anyone, please. Please!"

Mirabel's smirk faded at his pleading tone and she put a hand on his wrist. "I'm sorry, Tío," she said softly. "I promise I won't tease anymore. If you say you're just friends, I believe you."

He searched her eyes and found only sincerity there. "Thank you," he said softly. His thumb absentmindedly brushed back and forth against the smooth green glass in his hands. "She's just – very important to me. She's my friend. And she's still – she's still – I just - I don't – I don't want to – do anything to mess that up."

"Okay."

"And," he said, raising his voice and glancing to the door that he'd forgotten to close earlier – "If anyone else is listening to this conversation and decides to repeat any of it to anyone she will have to wait until after La Feria de Las Flores to see another episode of Somos Todos Ratas Enamorados."

He paused for a moment. Normally, he would have closed the door to the vision 'cave', and the door, plus the sounds of the sand curtain, plus the sounds of this newest waterfall, would have prevented Dolores from hearing the vision. He'd always been very careful to avoid causing Dolores any pain, by keeping her from hearing his visions – not that she could hear the visions themselves – they were entirely visual and impossible to hear - but she could hear anyone that spoke about them. In his awe of the new vision room, however, he'd forgotten to close the stone door. It was possible she'd heard his and Mirabel's conversation.

If she'd been listening, he hoped his threat to cancel his telenovela until after the festival was enough to dissuade Dolores from latching on to any crazy ideas Mirabel cooked up.

Mirabel took the tablet from him and shifted it back and forth in her hands. "So – what I got - "

"Hold on," he said, and stood, walking across the bridge and closing the stone door before returning to Mirabel. She stood and brushed stray sand from her hair and clothes, and then returned her focus to the tablet.

"Okay," he said, taking the tablet back from her and watching it shift again. He'd be lying if he said it didn't warm his heart to know he was the one who could help Lucía like that. As her friend. Of course.

"Okay," Mirabel continued. "So – it seems to me that something – something is going to happen to the murales? It will disappear? Which doesn't exactly make sense because we've just been planning on repairing it and restoring it, but okay, I guess. It will disappear and that - makes Lucía sad?"

Bruno nodded and swallowed. "Having a vision is easy. Interpreting visions is the hard part. You just make your best guess at stitching the images together, but sometimes your best guess is wrong. What you said makes sense to me, but this is the first time I've ever seen a dual outcome like yours."

Mirabel nodded. "Alone, she's devastated. With you, she's sad but – okay."

Bruno felt his ears warm and cleared his throat. "Um – yeah. I guess."

"Bruno to the rescue again," Mirabel said softly, and Bruno snorted.

They stared at the image for another moment, and then Mirabel spoke again. "Do you think – do you think all your visions will have – two options now?"

Bruno shook his head. "I – I don't know. They never did before, not until you. But maybe…" His blinked at the implication, and didn't know whether to feel sweet relief or dread. His gift could potentially help, a lot more, if there were two outcomes to every one. And if there were two outcomes, that meant they were dependent on the actions of someone in the vision. In Mirabel's case – the actions of herself and her Abuela. In Lucía's case – apparently his actions made a difference. But so much was still unclear and uncertain.

Who was this vision for? Lucía was in it, but her actions didn't appear to affect the outcome of it, so was the vision really meant for him? Apparently he couldn't prevent the murales from disappearing, because that hadn't changed. Only Lucía's reaction had. And he still didn't know when the vision was supposed to take place. He would guess sometimes this year, as his mother and the other elders would never allow the murales to remain in disrepair for longer than that, but that still left a lot of months in the year.

What if he did try to keep the murales? What if he went out there right now with some paint and a brush and tried to fix everything? He couldn't – he knew that – because he might be an artist but he was not that kind of an artist, so any work he did to 'fix' the murales would have to be fixed itself again – but what if someone else did? If he could keep the murales intact, would that prevent Lucía from being sad at all? He didn't think so – his visions were always accurate – but even though he'd pressed into it, he still didn't know the whole story, and he still wasn't willing to peek into Lucía's future in an effort to figure it out. He shook his head and refocused his attention on his sobrina.

"This is pretty big news," Mirabel said. "I think – I think we should tell the family, Tío."

Bruno sighed. "I know," he said quietly. And he did know. But for all the progress his family had made, he was still afraid that now that they knew his visions could potentially have two outcomes, they'd pressure him to have more. He was curious to see how his power had changed, but not that curious. He wanted to use his gift – he felt his power, and it was a gentle burden near his heart that felt right when he used it. But he didn't want to go poking around in anyone's future and see something he'd regret. "But – not tonight. Just – let me come to terms with this, tonight, okay? We can tell everyone what we've discovered tomorrow."

It was Mirabel's turn to sigh. "Okay. Abuela and I have a council meeting tonight, anyway."

"Oh. Lucky you." Bruno helped Mirabel to her feet and led her out of the vision room, closing the door behind him.

Mirabel rolled her eyes. "Yep. Lucky me."

They stepped lightly down the stairs together. "What's on the agenda for tonight?" Bruno asked.

"Voting on the compromise we reached last meeting about traveling into and out of the Encanto, now that it's more easily accessible." Mirabel suppressed a groan. Abuela had told her that Council Members did not groan, whimper, or otherwise complain when discussing council matters in public. She supposed she'd be allowed to complain to Bruno, seeing as they were not in public, but Mirabel was trying her best, and sometimes it was hard. Council Meetings were long, boring, and very rarely did everyone leave happy.

Bruno chuckled. "May the force be with you."

"Huh? What force?" Mirabel suddenly looked uneasy. "What force should be with me? Did you have a vision about - "

Bruno shook his head and laughed softly to himself. "Forget it. It's – it's a reference that will be relevant into about 20 years or so." He paused, squinting at nothing. "Give or take a decade."

Mirabel squinted back at him and smiled. "Oookay then."

Suddenly, she was hugging him again, and then she was gone.

Mirabel sighed and tried to subtly stretch her legs under the table . She'd been attending the twice monthly council meetings with Abuela for a month and a half now. She sat beside Abuela at the center of a long table that also held eight other town leaders. The table was at the front of the town hall, a building used for meetings and celebrations and a makeshift courtroom and whatever else the town needed it for. The table faced a large room with several benches and dozens of chairs, which were about half filled with people. So far, at the meetings she had attended, they'd made a minor adjustment to the Madrigal family schedule. (Julieta was now available for appointments Monday mornings instead of Monday afternoons.) They'd also approved a team of people to work on improving and maintaining the road in and out of the Encanto. Even after the miracle returned, the mountains were much more easily accessible than they had been, before. Luisa had volunteered to assist twice a week, and Mirabel and Abuela relayed her agreement at the meeting tonight.

And then, Mirabel listened to a group of men and women debate the pros and cons of said road, and the benefits and potential problems that came with the Encanto being more easily accessible to outsiders.

About half of the people wanted to increase trade with the closest village to the Encanto, San Cristóbal. The others, mostly of Abuela's generation, wanted to continue limiting trade to a few times per year. They argued security concerns, that there was no need to advertise the new ease with which people could travel between the cities. Mirabel realized Abuela was not the only one with deep-seated fears and scars from the trauma of their flight fifty years ago.

Tonight's meeting centered around solidifying the details of a compromise (the villagers could travel as frequently as they wished, as long as they gave notice to a member of the council beforehand, and traveled safely and preferably in groups. Travelers also had to agree not to advertise the change in accessibility status to outsiders. They'd made provisions for a potential increase in travelers and worked out a tentative system to vet any problems that arose.). The council would reassess after a month.

It was long, tedious work, and very rarely was everyone entirely satisfied with the results. But finally the vote was taken and passed, and the floor was opened to other concerns.

Mirabel stifled a groan but couldn't stop her nose from wrinkling in distaste when Tatiana Valencia stood. The woman had come to every single council meeting since the incident in town with Lucía. She'd unsuccessfully tried to implement a parent oversight committee for storytime, to preview and approve the stories Lucía read. She'd gotten a few voices of those who attended to support her, but the majority of the town argued that since Lucía was not a school or town employee - the storytimes she offered were free and she and her father were self-employed- they had no legal reason to oversee her services.

Señora Valencia had also been the one to petition for a change in Julieta's schedule, though her reasoning for that had admittedly been sound. After a full day off on Sunday, it made sense to take care of any medical issues first thing the next day. It irked Mirabel to see her mother manipulated like that, but Julieta had said she didn't mind as long as she still got her time in the afternoon to work on her own recipes and interests.

And now Tatiana was here again. Ugh.

Abuela nudged Mirabel's foot with her own. When Mirabel looked at her, Abuela gave her a kind smile and modeled lifting her chin and straightening her shoulders. Mirabel mirrored her. Inheriting the Miracle meant inheriting the responsibilities and obligations that went along with it, and that included listening to the sometimes-petty complaints of others with patience and grace.

She loved helping others. But it was a lot more cumbersome when she didn't get to just choose someone who looked like they needed help and help them. Now, she had to listen to everyone that needed help and decide who needed help first. Prioritizing the needs of the many over the wants of the few squeaky wheels in town was proving more difficult than she expected.

"Tatiana Valencia, addressing the council." The woman announced her name and desire and then, surprisingly, turned to look directly at Abuela.

"As many of you are aware, a few weeks ago, there was a minor incident in town between myself and Señora Moreno after I...disagreed with a story she read. It lead to a heated argument, and Señora Madrigal intervened. I would like to publicly apologize to the Madrigal family for some things I said, in the heat of the moment."

Mirabel couldn't help it, her mouth dropped open. She looked at Abuela, but the older woman gave no indication of what she was feeling. Her face was impassive and serene.

"I will not repeat them, as they were untrue and unfair." She made a very sincere looking apologetic face. Mirabel didn't buy it for a minute.

"As many of you know, I tend to get a little overprotective when I feel my son has been wronged." She shrugged sheepishly, and several people laughed. "And I was genuinely concerned about the motivation behind the story Senora Moreno read. It seemed to me that she - "

Abuela cleared her throat and narrowed her gaze, and Tatiana stopped mid-sentence, her smile widened, and then she continued. " – anyway, that's neither here nor there. I spoke without thinking through the implications of what I was saying. I apologize to la familia Madrigal." She looked at Alma expectantly.

Mirabel tensed, and Alma briefly reached over and squeezed her hand before responding. "La Familia Madrigal is willing to accept your apology. I trust you will show yourself to be sorry not only in word but in action as well."

Mirabel frowned, and Abuela squeezed her hand again. She would explain later.

Tatiana smiled.

"Mamá!" Josefina called from the art studio. "Antonio left his jaguar here!"

Lucia came into the room, sighing. This was the fifth time someone in the Madrigal family had left something behind in a matter of days – although most of the time, it had been Bruno. Antonio had been over earlier. He and Josefina had worked together on a project after school. She inspected the stuffed animal Josefina held up in her hands. "Sí, sí querida. You are correct. That is Antonio's, and it is important to him. I should probably return it to him."

"Oooh! I'm coming too!" Josefina declared.

"No, mi fresita," Lucia responded with mock sternness. "You need to finish your plant presentation and then take a bath."

"Mamá..." Josefina's face twisted in despair. "Noooooooo." Her face crumpled into a deep frown with big puppy eyes. "My presentation is done and I'll take a very very fast bath when we get home. Lo prometo."

"Mmmmhmmmm." Lucía looked at her daughter, narrowing her eyes in mock judgment. "Let me see that project, señorita."

Josefina ran to get it and Lucía had to admit that Josefina was correct – it was finished, and it was well done.

Lucía sighed. "All right, Josefina. You can come with me. But we're not staying long. We're just dropping off the jaguar for Antonio and coming home."

Tatiana tossed her hair over her shoulder. "I am glad you have brought that up, Señora Madrigal. As a symbol of my remorse and a gesture of goodwill, I have an offer for the la familia Madrigal that will also benefit the town."

Mirabel's heart slowly sank into her stomach as Tatiana Valencia revealed her grand gesture. She'd spoken with Señora Díaz about restoring the murales of the family in town, and had already spoken with an artist about designs for the new murales.

"La Familia Valencia will, of course, cover the entire cost of repairing the wall and painting the new murales," she said, her eyes wide with earnest modesty. "I have two rough proposals from the artist, already, and of course you will have a say in how you wish your familia to be depicted - "

"Thank you, Señora Valencia - " Alma said flatly. If Tatiana was looking for gushing gratitude or a show for the town, she would not find it in her.

Mirabel swallowed. She should say something. But what could she say? 'Hey, guys, my tío Bruno had this vision and if you change the murales it'll make someone sad?' She couldn't betray a confidence like that. And if she flat-out protested the change, she knew she'd look petty and childish.

" - for your generosity," Abuela continued. "Of course Señora Díaz would wish to have the wall repaired in a timely manner, and is well within her rights to do so. I -"

"I am glad to hear you say that," Tatiana replied. "Because Señora Díaz has already begun repair of the wall. It was taking such a long time to get around to. I understand a cracked wall is not as high a priority as the road, but I felt this way, I could help two prodigious families in the community at once."

It was happening. Mirabel froze and her heart began to pound. Bruno's vision was happening now – it had already been put into motion! But he wasn't planning on leaving the house again tonight. She knew he'd been feeling overwhelmed by the developments this afternoon and had planned on a quiet night in with his rats.

"Of course. As you are aware, the council was preoccupied with other matters, and we had hoped to address the issue of the murales soon, but obviously you have taken that burden upon yourself." Alma replied evenly, allowing the hidden barb at herself and the council members to bounce off. She paused and took a sip of water.

Tatiana preened. She obviously felt very sure of herself. Mirabel wondered if the woman knew just how much it would hurt Señora Moreno to have her husband's work disappear, just like that. But maybe they'd still have time to warn Lucía. Maybe it wouldn't be such a shock if she was mentally prepared for it to be gone. She and Abuela hadn't passed the murales on the way to the meeting; they'd taken a long way around to drop off some food from Julieta to the Flores family. Cecilia's mama had had her baby a week ago, and was still recovering. But surely, surely the entire murales couldn't be gone in one evening?

"When you say that Señora Díaz has already begun repair of the wall, what do you mean?" Mirabel asked, attempting to stay as calm as Abuela.

"The wall has been repaired and is currently being whitewashed in preparation for the new design. A blank canvas, if you will."

"I call a time out!" Mirabel shouted suddenly, to the surprise of the council and the other meeting attendees. "Sorry, excuse me," she apologized, smiling with her teeth clenched in mild panic. "I – uh – I really, really need to speak with my Abuela for a moment - "

"Mirabel - " Abuela admonished quietly. "There are no 'time-outs' at a council meeting. If you wish to call recess - "

"Recess!" Mirabel shouted. "Recess!" She pulled Abuela out of her chair and out door at the side of the room, leaving the rest of the council members staring after them, open-mouthed.

"Mirabel!" Abuela exclaimed, struggling to gain her footing outside of the town hall.

Mirabel looked to the left and right, and once she was certain they were alone, it all spilled out. "Abuela, we can't let Señora Valencia change the murales!"

"What – why not?"

"Because Tío Bruno had a vision and the murales disappeared and it made Señora Moreno so sad, like – she was sad sad and Tío Bruno can help and besides I don't like the way Señora Valencia looks at us and I don't want her to be the one behind repairing the murales!"

By the time she was done, Mirabel was nearly panting.

Abuela's brows drew together in concern. "Mirabel," she said softly, putting a hand on her shoulder. "Bruno had a vision of the murales?"

Mirabel flushed slightly and made a noncommittal gesture with her hands. "I mean – uh – sort of, yeah, but - "

"Was anyone physically harmed in restoring it?"

"No - "

"I don't like it either," Abuela admitted quietly. "But if we refuse to allow her the opportunity to apologize and make amends, it will look like we are holding a grudge."

"She accused our family of – of – well, not murder, but close!"

Abuela scowled. "I know." She sighed, and suddenly looked sad. "I would never want to cause Lucía unnecessary pain, but it sounds as if the murales is already gone, mija. If we further block her attempt at reconciliation, it will make things more difficult for us and for Lucía. Tatiana will take it as us throwing her apology in her face – which is not what we are doing, though she may deserve that – and she will use it as evidence to support her idea that we are a power-hungry, grudge-holding family."

"Nobody in town believes that!" Mirabel protested.

"No," Abuela sighed, and tried to explain how her life experiences had shaped her outlook in this particular scenario. "They do not, not now. I was well within my rights as a leader of the family and the town to confront her directly when she so openly maligned our family. But she has been following my advice and addressing her complaints at council meetings. She has been flattering and polite to our family in public. And now she has publicly apologized and attempted a gesture of reconciliation. If we outright refuse that, no matter how unfair it may seem - it will allow a seed of distrust and suspicion to be planted in the community, and it will be that much harder to uproot."

Abuela frowned. "Our community is what it is – our life has been what is has – because the town trusts us, Mirabel. Maintaining a semblance of peace – only the absence of conflict - is easy if you are dictator with powerful armies at your disposal, though it may only be a facade. Maintaining true peace – the absence of conflict with the presence of justice – is much more difficult. I have tried very hard to maintain trust and true peace in the Encanto. I have seen so much unrest in my lifetime, Mirabel. I want to protect Lucía, and I want to protect our family, and I want to give Tatiana a chance to seek peace with our family. I've already publicly rebuked her and reminded her she can leave the Encanto if she is truly unhappy. I will address the issue of the murales, but it sounds as if it is already gone. I can make this a hill to die on, mija, if you feel it is that important – but it may come at a cost you do not fully understand or expect."

Mirabel's shoulders drooped. "We can't – we can't fix this?"

Abuela took her hand in both of hers, patting it reassuringly. "Lo siento, mi amorita. I will do what I can, but none of us can turn back time."

"But – she won." Mirabel's voice was small and sad and a little angry. "She – she was wrong and she still got what she wanted."

Abuela linked her arm to Mirabel's and squeezed her hand again. "I know," she said sadly. "Sometimes, mija, they do. But," she added, "she has shifted her tactics and is using the council as a weapon. She forgets, mi querida, that I have been on this council longer than she has been alive. We may not be able to save the murales, but she will not be getting the victory she thinks she is. The meeting is not over yet."

Maybe not what you expected but please stick with me. This was getting a little long so I stopped the chapter here. I will post the next chapter tomorrow.

I'm sure you know this by now, but:

mi fresita - my little strawberry

Lo siento, mi amorita - I'm sorry, my little love

mi querida - my dear

Also, I really like the idea of a random fic that is entirely made up of Bruno using pop culture references and then shrugging them off as being relevant in (insert amount of decades here). It makes me giggle. If anyone knows of one like that already, or wants to write it, please tell me where I can find it. 0.0

Until then, God bless you, thank you for your support, and your reviews!