41. Blame

The second the other adults in the room left Mirabel started to cry silently.

Isabela was left watching the doorway that her parents, tio, and abuela had all exited through. She fidgeted uncomfortably for a second, loathing how that reminded her so much of her uncle, before looking at Mirabel.

Upon seeing her damp cheeks she sat down on the couch next to her, and pulled her into a light hug, taking care to not hurt her already injured arm.

Mirabel didn't sob. She didn't say anything. She just let silent tears fall. Isabela felt a pit open up inside of her, hearing distant voices echo back into the living room. Mirabel's good hand grasped for Isabela's, and the two of them just sat there.

Her father's angry voice broke through the quiet din, and Isabela felt herself tense. Typically Agustin was a kind and quiet soul, one that Isabela felt like she could always run to. Unless it was a problem stemmed from Abuela. Agustin didn't hate a single living person... except for Bruno.

And up until a few weeks ago, Isabela had felt the same way.

Thinking about how perfect Isabela felt she always had had to be made her think of how Mirabel might have been treated. If Isabela was expected to be prefect because of her gift, then Mirabel would be expected to... be useless. If gifts equaled worth then what did that mean for someone who didn't get one...

Isabela resisted the urge to hug Mirabel tighter, and silently thanked her uncle for taking her.

Bruno's angry voice had now replaced Agustin's, and Mirabel squeezed her eyes tight. Isabela began stroking her hair gently, biting back tears of her own. She hadn't heard adults argue in a long time. At least adults in her family. The last time she remembered someone doing that was... Ten years ago. Right after Mirabel was taken.

Mirabel's hand in hers tensed, and Isabela asked a tentative, “What is it Mira?” Mirabel opened her eyes, tears sliding down her cheeks. “I don't like it when they fight... I don't... I hate that its about me!”

Isabela felt herself stiffen. She looked at the door, then nodded sadly. “It's not your fault Mirabel. Sometimes things like this happen...” Mirabel shook her head, wincing a bit as her broken arm moved slightly. “Its not my arm Isa! It's that... that I call Bruno... Papá. That's what I call him in my head! Thinking of him as Tio is just... weird.”

Isabela's breath caught in her throat. She stared down at Mirabel, who let go of her hand and adjusted her glasses. “I really don't like them... fighting. I feel bad for Agustin... but...”

Mirabel's eyes dropped to the floor, and Isabela let go of her. She leaned back and stared at Mirabel, soaking in the sight of her like it was her fist time seeing her.

Mirabel still had tears rolling down her face. Her glasses were smudged, but she didn't seem to care enough to wipe them clean. Her skirt was torn in one part, but had been expertly sewn back together. Her white shirt, decorated nearly entirely by butterflies and hourglasses, was dirty, especially the left side where she had fallen. Every time she breathed it looked like it pained her. Isabela wished that her mother's gift had survived, because she really wanted to feed her sister... cousin... Sisten.

Isabela was about going to say something about getting Mirabel a change of clothes, when she heard a set of footsteps enter the room.

She looked up and saw Bruno standing there, a pained look on his face. His hair seemed to be more limp than Isabela ever remembered seeing him, and his face showed the betrayal that Isabela was sure he felt. He stared at Isabela first, then looked at Mirabel.

“Mira?” he breathed, crossing the room and kneeling in front of Mirabel. His eyes were trained on the teenagers face, and he lifted a hand out to wipe one of her tears away. “Mariposa? Are you... okay?”

Mirabel shook her head, and Isabela felt a pang go through her heart. To her shock it was Mirabel that hugged Bruno with her good arm, and then the real waterworks started.

“I... I'm so sorry Papá!” Mirabel called out, sounding much younger than she was. Isabela squirmed in her seat, feeling out of place for the first time in a while. “I... I don't like... I didn't mean... I don't want to be taken away from you!”

Mirabel's voice died out for a minute, her body shaking against Bruno. Bruno himself seemed to be in more shock than Isabela was, and just knelt there for a moment.

Then his arms came up, and he started rubbing circle's on her back. “Mariposa...” he whispered, and Isabela barely heard him over Mirabel's shaky hiccups. “Oh niña. I'm not going anywhere. It's okay. I'm here. It's okay.”

“But... but... you're not... Agustin's my real dad...” Mirabel said, and Isabela felt her heart start to break. She couldn't imagine how Mirabel must be feeling right then. Isabela straightened in her seat, feeling trapped while simultaneously wanting to run.

Bruno's eyes flicked to the kitchen door, then he looked at Isabela. Isabela felt her breath catch in her throat as they shared eye contact, then Bruno looked back at Mirabel and pushed her away gently.

“Mirabel...” he began, but before he could say another word Julieta walked in the room, tears streaming down her face.

Bruno and Julieta made eye contact, and Isabela stared at her mother. Julieta's face was drawn, and looked quite pained. She glanced at Mirabel for a second, before folding her hands in front of her and starting to cry.

Isabela leaped to her feet, and dashed over to her mother. Bruno just stared at his sister, and Mirabel sealed her eyes shut. There was a minute of silence, hushed voices coming from the kitchen.

Then Julieta said quietly, “Bruno... I'm sorry.”

Isabela stopped, unable to look away from her mother. The older woman kept her eyes trained on the only man in the room, tears cascading down her cheeks. Isabela wanted to throw her arms around her, tell her that it was alright. That there was nothing she had done that they couldn't fix or undo.

“And Mirabel... I am so sorry that you're... That... That I...” Julieta dropped to her knees, holding the back of her head in her hands as loud sobs started to exit her. Isabela knelt next to her, placing a delicate hand on her shoulder.

There was no more words in the room, the only sound being Julieta's sobs. Then Bruno stood up and walked over to his sister. He knelt next to Isabela and placed his head on top of Julieta's.

“Sana, sana, colita de rana, si no sana hoy, sanara mañana.” Bruno whispered, and Isabela almost laughed at his words. She vaguely remembered her Tio repeating nursery rhymes to her and the other kids, but never to an adult.

Julieta's hands fell from her head, and her arms wrapped around Bruno. Bruno hugged her back, then he seemed to focus on something else.

“Hey, Juli, remember when we were kids, and would sneak out of work to go to the river? Remember when we found out that Pepa had a crush on Felix?”

Isabela's mother sniffed, and Bruno moved his head so she could look up at him. She blinked some of her tears away, and said in a half-broken voice, “She had a cloud over her head for hours. You got her to rain into the river.” A small smile played on her face, eyes focused on a distant memory. “We were soaked, and you got really sick, even though it was only a few hours. Then you refused to eat my cooking.”

Bruno nodded, his hand curling in her hair. He stroked it lovingly, then said, “Mamá was so upset when we got so dirty. It was your idea, throwing mud at each other. But it was such a fun day.”

Julieta now had a smile on her face, and Isabela found her eyes flicking between the two of them. Then she looked at the couch, and saw Mirabel leaning towards them, her face screwed up in pain. “Uh... Tio Bruno?” Isabela said, pointing at Mirabel.

Bruno looked back at where Isabela was pointing, then back at Julieta. “What do you say sis? Should we let out daughter into the hug pile?”

“Our daughter?” Julieta said, and to Isabela's shock her eyebrows wiggled in an almost seductive manner.

Did she just make a...

“Ew! Juli! Gross!” Bruno said, pushing himself away from Isabela's mother, who smiled coyly. “And they say that I'm the evil triplet.”

Julieta let out a laugh, and Mirabel blinked at them with a confused look on her face. “What are you two talking about?” she asked, and Julieta said loudly, “Nothing!” while Bruno said, “Your mother just made a very bad joke. Don't follow her. Don't listen to her!”

Poor Mirabel didn't know how to respond to what she had just heard. Her eyes flicked to Isabela's face, silently begging for answers that Isabela wished she didn't know. Isabela just shook her head, and Mirabel sighed.

“So... Am I still down for the hug?” she asked, and Julieta nodded, opening her arm up for Mirabel to grab onto. Mirabel got off the couch, and practically collapsed into Bruno and Julieta's arms.

Isabela followed her a moment later, and the four of them stayed there for a long time.

Never, in his twenty-four years of marriage, did Agustin expect to be put in a situation like this.

He sat back down in the chair, feeling more tired than ever before. Ever since Bruno had left the room he felt angrier than ever. Deep betrayal was filling Agustin's mind. He understood Mirabel's side of this whole issue. She was just a kid. But that only made Bruno that much worse.

What kind of a person took someone's daughter without asking them? And then proceeded to replace that person in the kid's life! Apparently Bruno Madrigal.

But wait. There was another side of this whole issue. Julieta.

Julieta had known. She had known, this whole time, that Bruno... She had given him permission. Permission to take the most precious thing in their lives. She had... She hadn't told Agustin about it.

For ten years she had lied to him. She had pretended that she had absolutely no part in this. She pretended like she was just as in the dark as Agustin was. Agustin had thought that they were in the same boat. That Bruno had hurt both of them the same...

But she had lied. She knew. She had known this whole time!

He could hate Bruno. That much was easy. The man had been distancing himself from the family for years before running off in the middle of the night. He was the strange Madrigal. The one who no one talked about. He was the one who had effectively replaced Agustin in Mirabel's life.

But could he hate Julieta? Could he truly let his betrayed feelings towards his wife develop into hatred? Julieta, the one who had comforted him through losing his birth family. Julieta, the popular gift who gave a clumsy oaf like him a shot. Julieta, the woman who had stood at that alter, held his hands, and promised to be by his side forever. Julieta, the one who had bore three children for him. The one who always would smile at him and say he was the most handsome man in the world. The one who would press food into his mouth with a loving smile after he inevitably hurt himself... Could he really hate her?

Hate her? No. Of course not. She was his most loyal companion. The one who swore to be there through thick and thin. But at the same time... could he trust her as well?

He wanted to scream. He wanted to jam his hands down on piano keys until the garbled bunch of notes properly conveyed his emotions. He wanted to rip out his hair. He wanted to pull his daughters, all three of them, into his arms and never let go. He wanted... wanted...

There was a hand on his shoulder, and he looked up to see his mother-in-law standing there, a glass of wine in her hand. “Here.” she said, handing it to him. Agustin took it with a quick word of thanks, then sipped at it slowly.

Alma sat next to him, her own glass of wine getting twirled in between her fingers. Agustin set his glass down, and then asked, “What should I do?”

His suegra shook her head sadly. “I'm afraid I am the wrong person to ask.” she said truthfully, and Agustin felt himself grow uncomfortable. He was so used to being able to look to Alma for all the answers, and now that she was... different... it was strange. Like a slap to the face.

“Though, insulting my son's parenting choices is not a good start.” Alma said, and Agustin's breath caught in his throat. He stared at Alma, who had her serious face on. Years of training told him that when Alma Madrigal had her serious face on you listened, no matter the situation.

“It is completely natural for Bruno to feel... overprotective, of Mirabel right now.” Alma said, her eyes darting to the empty doorway Julieta had walked out of several minutes before. “The two of them have just had their whole lives upended right now. I know what that is like.”

Agustin watched his suegra take a perfectly poised sip of wine, then continued. “You would not want to be someone trying to come in between me and my babies right after the Encanto was formed.” Agustin licked his lips, wanting to argue, but not finding any words at the moment.

“For Bruno and Mirabel they have lost more than just their home, they have lost their entire lives.” Alma said, her eyes fixed on some distant spot. Agustin searched her face, not wanting to be persuaded, but listening anyway. “All they have left of their old lives are each other. And the rats, but Bruno always had those.”

There was another moment of silence as Alma took another swallow. Agustin copied her, feeling a tension growing in the back of his mind.

“I understand your anger. I understand wanting to blame Bruno. But Agustin...” Alma drew his gaze silently, and she stared into his eyes like she was examining his soul. “If there is a single person to blame for this whole mess it is me. Bruno took her to protect her from me. Julieta didn't... didn't tell you because of me.”

Her eyes dropped to her wine glass, and to his shock Agustin saw tears start to build in her eyes. “Mirabel is hurt because of me. It was me who caused Casita's fall. If it weren't for me she would be healed already.”

Agustin was too stunned to speak.