2. Chapter 2

A/N: Edited 6/24/22 for spelling, grammar, and to add a list of Spanish terms to the end.

Chapter 2

Lucía's sleep was filled with strange, disjointed dreams and a general feeling of unease. She woke the next morning, feeling just as tired as she'd been the night before. She blinked at the sun streaming in through the curtains and sighed, attempting to clear the cobwebs from her mind as she listened to her Papá pluck out a tune on his tiple in the courtyard(1). She smiled. He was probably playing for Josefina, attempting to give her a few more moments of quiet rest.

Something in the back of her mind prodded her. There was something -

She groaned out loud and pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes as she remembered. Bruno Madrigal. Mirabel missing. Itziar. She sighed and sat up, throwing back her blankets and stretching. She hoped Bruno found Mirabel and brought back the horse, or she would have some explaining to do, today.

She quickly washed and dressed. She chose a simple blouse embroidered with brown thread and an older green skirt with similar brown detailing, plaiting her dark brown hair into a single braid. She knew the town would be going to the Madrigal's today and she wanted to be prepared for whatever work was asked of them.

She stepped out of her bedroom, closing the door behind her, and made her way down the hall to the stairs, pausing only to kiss her fingers and press them to the door of Alejandro's studio. She stepped lightly down the stairs and her face broke into a wide smile as she saw her daughter.

"Mamá!" Josefina's face lit up as she ran to her, her wavy black hair escaping the braids she'd worn to bed last night and sticking out at odd angles around her face. She threw her arms around her and squeezed tightly, obviously still tense from the events of last night. "Buenos días, Mamá. Will you dance with me? Please?"

Lucía laughed, though her brain continued to tell her that she should speak with Papá about what had happened last night. "Of course, mi amorita. I would love to." She curtsied to Josefina, who curtsied back, and they began an impromptu morning dance, spinning carefully around their small courtyard.

Papá noticed and adjusted the tempo of his song accordingly, increasing in speed little by little until they were whirling so fast the scenery around them was a blur. Josefina's hands slipped out of her mother's and she spun a few times on her own, holding her arms out for balance, and laughing brightly. "Again! Abuelo, can we do it again, por favor?"

Lucía laughed, breathing hard, and shook her head. "Mija, I could not do that again, even if I wanted to. I am dizzy! And not a little girl anymore. Besides," she continued, looking her child up and down, "don't you need to go get dressed? Who let you outside in your nightclothes, mmmm?"

"Abuelo!" Josefina pointed, a mischievous grin on her face. "Abuelo said I could dance until you woke up!"

Lucía raised an eyebrow at her Papá, and he shrugged good-naturedly. "Ah, mija – 'he grants sleep to those he loves'."

Lucía tilted her head, searching her memory for the reference.

"Book of Psalms, Chapter one-hundred-twenty-seven, verse two." He supplied helpfully.

She smiled, shaking her head. "And I appreciate it, thank you. But now," she turned to her daughter – "Now, you need to go get dressed. Wear the dress you use for play and chores. I'll fix your hair soon. Everyone will be gathering in town soon to hear what the plans are for the Casa Madrigal. We'll be helping them today."

"We're helping the Madrigals?" Josefina asked as she made her way to the stairs, walking backwards.

"Of course!" Lucía replied. "They always help everyone else, and now they need our help. They are our neighbors. They lost their house, Josefina."

Josefina nodded, a thoughtful look on her face. "Abuelo said they lost their powers, too. Is that true?"

Lucía sighed. "That's what Padre Tomás said, and he was one of the first there after the house fell. I saw him speaking with Señora Madrigal."

Josefina nodded again, stalling at the bottom of the stairs. "Then I will loan Luisa my muscles!" She said, pumping her arms to show them off.

Lucía laughed and shooed her daughter up the stairs. "We will all loan them our muscles. Go get yourself dressed, and find your brush and bring it down so I can fix your hair."

Her heart had barely recovered from its pounding after dancing with Josefina when she remembered Bruno and Itziar, and it began again.

Bruno winced as he shifted on – what was it - Itzi's back. He hadn't meant to, but he'd dozed off on her back sometime during the night, and surprisingly – when he awoke, he'd still been on her back, arms draped around her neck, and she'd been nibbling at a bush. He'd fallen off then, in his surprise, but – just like the unexpectedly kind stable lady had said, the horse stood patiently while he stretched his legs, rubbed the sleep from his eyes, and nibbled on a stale arepa he'd found tucked into his pocket.

It was a bit salty.

The previous night, he'd attempted to avoid the spread of townspeople fanning out to help locate Mirabel, while trying to find her himself. He knew that if he popped up then – if he'd been spotted – he'd only cement his reputation as the town's bogeyman. Ugh. He flinched as he imagined Pepa seeing him in the midst of the rubble, shrieking – 'You! Gone for ten years and the very day you return, pfft! The house falls apart and we all lose our gifts!'

He knew the townspeople's reactions would not be much better. When they had all started searching on foot, he had stayed out of the way - until he noticed the opening of the mountains surrounding the Encanto. He remembered telling Mirabel he hadn't left because the mountains were so high – and somehow, despite the fact that his gift was gone, he knew then that that was where he should look for her. (Oh, the irony hadn't been lost on him. The one time in years he'd actually wanted to use his 'gift', it was gone.) He'd managed to keep to the shadows of the jungle until the sun had set, and then had worked up the courage to seek a horse from the town stables.

He groaned out load as he mentally replayed his interactions with – Luisa? No, no, Luisa was his niece, but her name was similar – Lucía! Yes. Lucía. He'd only meant to borrow a horse without anyone noticing, but then there was only one left to borrow, and that woman had been in the barn. He'd grown impatient and anxious, talking himself into and out of approaching her, desperate to find and reassure his niece, to bring her back to her family. He knew from experience that running away fixed nothing, and only served to make the runner lonely, sad, and…awkward. Mirabel was such a friendly, open-hearted soul. She didn't deserve to be a sad, lonely weirdo. Like him.

He hoped Lucía wouldn't tell anyone. She'd said she wouldn't tell anyone. She didn't seem…angry, or afraid of him. Just…surprised. She actually shook his hand. He stared at his hand for a moment, flexing it and frowning, and then shrugged and wiped it on his ruana before knocking on the trees, throwing a pinch of salt over his shoulder, and climbing back up onto Itziar's back.

He grabbed the reigns and gently tugged her head away from the bush, pressing her forward with his heels. "Come on, uh - Itziar. I need to make it to the mountain pass and convince Mirabel to come back with me." It took a bit of prodding, but eventually, she settled into a comfortable trot again. Bruno stretched the tension out of his neck and shoulders, and attempted to find a way to sit more comfortably on her back.

They came to a clearing in the foothills at the base of the mountain overlooking the river. He squinted, and he sighed with relief as he spotted her – Mirabel! But as quickly as his heart leapt at spotting her, it fell as he noticed her posture. She was curled into a ball at the water's edge, knees drawn up to her chest and head in her arms.

His face fell and his heart constricted with empathy. He knew that posture. That had been his posture for decades of his life. As he watched his niece, his expression slowly changed from sad understanding to angry determination. Enough was enough - no more! It wasn't his fault his so-called 'gift' made people see him as a walking, talking harbinger of doom, and it wasn't her fault she didn't get a gift. They both loved their family, just as much as any other member – maybe even more. He'd –

Oh no.

Mamá.

He watched as his mother slowly made her way down the path to sit beside Mirabel, and Bruno grimaced. He'd heard everything that had occurred between the two, before the house fell. Mirabel had tried to explain everything, and – as usual – Mamá had only focused on the casita, on the gifts, on the familia as a unit, ignoring the hurt she was causing to every single individual. He shook his head. Mirabel was right. It was his mother's fault the cracks had formed, but Mirabel was the only one brave enough to confront her about it, and then it had been too late. Maybe, if all of them had stood up to her more, there wouldn't have been so many cracks to repair in the first place.

His running and hiding may have originally been intended to protect Mirabel, but eventually, he'd realized he was just too tired and too afraid to go back. He hadn't known how to face his family and explain his vision without hurting Mirabel - but living in the walls, he'd also heard the hurt he'd caused his whole family by leaving without so much as a good-bye.

He'd heard Pepa's conversations with Félix, her worry about his disappearance and what it might mean had slowly turned to bitterness, unable to even speak about him without a thundercloud erupting above her head. He'd heard Julieta cry herself to sleep beside Agustín, blaming herself for his vanishing, wondering if there was anything she could have done to keep her beloved hermanito at home. He'd heard his mother praying, her pleas changing from begging for Bruno to return so they could see his vision and save the miracle, to confusion and condemnation for abandoning them in their time of need – and then tapering out altogether. He heard the confusion in his sobrino's voices when they were shushed repeatedly, asking where Tío Bruno had gone – half-hearted explanations eventually shifting into simply – 'we don't talk about Bruno'.

Maybe they were all a little bit to blame.

He swallowed. He didn't want to face his mother, not like this, he wasn't ready, he needed to slink back into the walls and –

He gripped the reigns tightly in his hands, squeezed his eyes shut, and attempted to control his breathing. "No!" Itziar pricked her ears back toward him, but otherwise remained unmoved by his emotional upheaval. "No! Maybe we were all to blame, but she was wrong! I'm not - I'm not some villain who gave up on my family! I tried so hard, and it wasn't enough, and that's not my fault. I mean - " he inclined his shoulder and gestured with his hands as Itziar turned in a circle, looking for her next snack. "I mean, sure, maybe I disappointed my family because I left them after I was supposed to have an important vision regarding not only my youngest niece, but the whole family - and I didn't tell anyone what it was about and refused to come back and stand up to my mother, even when I saw that leaving didn't actually help Mirabel at all-" – he took a deep breath after releasing all his pent up frustration and guilt, and Itzi snorted sympathetically, turning her head slightly to look at him – "I disappointed them, but I'm not a disappointment just because my gift was a dud. She was wrong!"

He stopped for a moment, chest heaving, and blinked in wonder. He'd spent so long staying quiet, trying to keep others from hearing him, trying to stay silent and invisible and patch the cracks in his family behind the scenes – and it didn't work. It felt good to speak out loud, without worrying about anyone overhearing or misunderstanding him. "She was wrong!" He announced to the trees around him.

"She was wrong!" He leaned forward, confiding in Itziar. She snorted and stomped one hoof in agreement. He nodded resolutely. "I won't let her treat Mirabel the way she treated me! I won't let Mirabel turn into a miserable old recluse! Even if I have to take the blame again, even if my mother doesn't listen – I'm coming Mirabel! Ya!"

He flicked the reigns and lifted his chin dramatically.

Itziar didn't move. Instead, she snorted derisively and stretched her neck toward the nearest leafy green object.

He sighed. "Okay, okay, okay, sorry. Uh – Let's go get Mirabel, okay?" He patted her shoulder and carefully pulled on the reigns, redirecting Itzi to the safest downhill path and then urging her on, increasing her speed until he was clinging to her for dear life.

As Josefina scampered up the steps, Lucía turned back to her father. He had already placed his tiple in its case and retreated to the kitchen, pouring coffee and peeling mango, while the ingredients for arepas sat on the counter.

Lucía washed her hands in the sink and began mixing the cornmeal, butter, water, and salt. Her heart was already pounding and she hadn't even brought up – whatever last night was.

"Are you alright, Lucía? I know we are all worried about Mirabel, but have faith. They will find her. We will help rebuild the Casa Madrigal, and even if the magic is gone forever, we still have our community. In fact, without the magic, we will have to rely on each other more than ever, and that is not necessarily a bad thing."

She frowned and continued to knead the dough for the arepas. "I know Papá," she said slowly, only half-listening. She was conflicted. Bruno had asked her not to tell anyone about him, but although she knew she had done the right thing in loaning Itziar to him, she also knew she would have to tell Sofia later, and she was a terrible liar. She wasn't sure if it would be okay to wait to tell Sofia until after giving Bruno a chance to return the horse – and if Mirabel hadn't been found yet, then the horse would not be returned yet either. She supposed she could just tell Sofia that she had let someone borrow Itziar to search for Mirabel, but then Sofia would ask who, and Sofia wouldn't believe her if she said she wasn't sure. And she couldn't place the blame on one of the other villagers; that would be a lie as well!

She sighed heavily.

"Lucía, you are kneading that dough into oblivion."

She blinked at the dough. It was a bit over mixed. She shook her head and began forming it into arepas.

After a moment, her father sighed. " 'There is no better friend than a burden'(2), mija. Care to tell your old father what is on your mind?"

She took a deep breath. Her father was trustworthy, had always taught her to care for her neighbors, and had never abided in the gossip that Bruno caused bad things to happen. For as long as she could remember, whenever someone in town had spread gossip of any sort – and there had been a lot of gossip about Bruno – her Papá's favorite saying had been 'The tongue holds the power of life and death, and those who love it will eat its fruits.'(3). Her lips twitched into a smile as she placed the arepas on the hot budare. She remembered how he used to carefully instruct her and her sister – Girls, as you know, words have great power – both to harm, and to heal. Those who gossip to you will also gossip about you. We must not blame the messenger for bringing bad news. Knowing the future is a heavy burden, and one we must not add to.

He had taught them to treat Bruno with respect, but he had also never allowed them to seek out any vision from Bruno. When she was old enough, he had confided in her that he had no desire to hear what good or misfortune would befall their family. We all receive our own misfortunes in our time. 'There is a time for everything, a season for every activity under the heavens: a time to be born and a time to die…a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance'(4)…I will take each time in its turn and so will you. Knowing the future will not help prevent it, it will only add worry and misery to our lives.'

Apparently, it had added so much worry and misery to Bruno's life that he had disappeared for ten years.

She sighed as she finished cooking the arepas and moved them to a plate to place on the table. While Papá had taught them to respect Bruno – and every other person in the village as well - it was Alejandro – Alejandro, who spent hours sketching the family, and then painting them on the town's walls – it was he who encouraged her natural inclination to have compassion on the town's outcast. He had come home one evening, raging at the way someone in town had treated Bruno after they had requested a vision and it hadn't gone as expected. Luci, have you ever looked at his eyes? What he is hiding isn't malevolent misfortune or evil intent – it is pain! Who loves a man who tells them things they don't want to here? Who appreciates a man whose gift more often dashes hopes than fulfills them? He does not control the future, but he is honest enough to speak it truthfully. We should commend his honesty, and honor the burden of his gift instead of blaming him for a load he did not ask for in the first place!

"Lucía?" Papá asked again, bringing her back to the present.

She took a deep breath. "Papá…last night I let Bruno Madrigal borrow Itziar to help find Mirabel, and Sofia doesn't know."

Bruno's heart hammered as he burst through the foliage onto the path, channeling his inner Hernando and shouting – "She didn't do this!" as he pulled Itziar to a stop. He saw his mother and Mirabel out of the corner of his eye, their mouths open in shock. Itziar turned around before he was fully off of her back, already spotting her newest snack.

He dropped the reigns and slid off the horse's back, forgetting Lucía's instructions to lift one leg around and get both feet down first. "She didn't do this!" He shouted again, unfazed, one foot still stuck high on the horse's back as the other stretched toward the ground. "I gave her a vision!"

He stumbled off of Itziar and turned toward them, arms flailing. "It was me! I was like – 'Go!' and she was like – 'pfffttt'- she just wanted to help!" The shouting was cathartic, and his mother was taking small, steady steps toward him, and everything he'd wanted to say kept bubbling up and out.

He took a deep breath and glared, gesturing for effect. "I don't care what you think of me, but if you're too stubborn to - "

Suddenly, he was wrapped in his mother's embrace, her head pressed to his chest, her arms trembling.

He stopped mid-sentence, finger still in the air, as she whispered "Brunito," her voice full of wonder and sorrow.

"...to...to…uh…" His mother was still holding on a full ten seconds later, and Mirabel walked past them, a smile on her face. "…I feel like…I missed something important…"

Mirabel laughed. "C'mon." She pulled herself onto the horse.

His mother pressed her palms to his face, her eyes full of tears, and kissed his cheek before taking his hand and pulling him toward the horse. He and Mirabel helped her to mount, and then she pulled him onto Itziar's back as well.

"Wha – what's happening?" He asked, his voice rising in pitch with every word. "Where are we going?"

This was so far from what he'd expected – so far from what he'd experienced with his family in the past – he was totally unsure of what would happen next. Maybe Itziar would sprout wings and fly?

Mirabel took a deep breath, and flicked the reigns firmly. "Home," she announced with confidence. "We're going home."

Apparently, the horse responded better to the word home than any other word, because she took off immediately at a gallop, Bruno scrambling to hold on and not take his mother or niece down with him.

Lucía could hear her sister from down the street. You didn't need Dolores' gift to hear Sofia, that was for sure. "Miguel! Not so much on poor Burrito, he's got enough of a load to carry. Gabriela, have you gotten all the halters tied securely? Your poor papá was out until the middle of the night looking for Mirabel and the animals. He doesn't need to go out looking for anyone else today!"

Lucía wound through the crowd toward the stables, Josefina holding tightly to her hand and Papá trailing behind her. As she expected, her Papá promised to keep quiet about Bruno, and agreed that unless Sofia brought it up directly, they would wait until the end of the day to say anything. This would allow time for Bruno to keep his word and return the horse. They were preparing to venture up to what was left of the Casa Madrigal with the rest of the village. Cleaning up the rubble had taken second place to searching for Mirabel last night, and it was only this morning that the church bells had rung, signaling she had been found. Lucía had held Josefina tightly this morning and offered a prayer of gratitude that Mirabel was home safe.

The crowd of villagers, organized by Padre Tomás, was full of hope this morning. Lucía smiled. Everyone seemed eager to help the family that had helped so many of them on a daily basis.

If only she could put to rest the churning in her stomach that had blossomed when she woke up and thought about telling her sister about Itziar. Talking to Papá helped, but she felt a certain apprehension about talking about Bruno, even with her sister. The strange circumstances would make it feel as if she were gossiping. She hoped the horse had helped find Mirabel. She hoped Bruno had been telling the truth and would actually bring Itziar back. She hoped -

She shook her head to clear her thoughts as her sister spotted them.

"Lucía! Josefina! Papá! Over here!" Sofia waved enthusiastically, Diego on her hip. "Isn't it wonderful? Mirabel is back! And almost all of the horses and donkeys were found as well! We're only missing two of the donkeys and a chicken. Well, and Itziar. She must have wandered off, gluttonous old thing. The food in the barn wasn't enough for her? Did you see her last night, Luci? No matter, hermana. She'll turn up eventually. And if she doesn't, God rest her lazy old soul. We've managed to load up the most difficult things to carry, but if you could - "

Sofia just kept talking, and Lucía was secretly relieved she didn't need to answer her questions just now, in front of the town. She hadn't heard a word about Bruno yet, and that was definitely something the town would be talking about, despite their continued insistence that they didn't talk about Bruno. She didn't want to break her word and rat him out. Mirabel had just been found. Hopefully he would return the horse by the end of the day. She had a feeling he would.

"All right, all right!" Padre Tomás lifted his voice and spread his hands to quiet the crowd. "I think we've got everything we can carry for now. Let's go help the Madrigals!"

The town cheered in approval, and they began making their way through the street.

"Ma-" Bruno helped his mother dismount from Itziar, and he allowed the horse to begin grazing again beneath the tree outside of the rubble of the casita. Mirabel had jumped off as soon as they arrived, shouting for her parents. "Mamá, I - "

Once again, she gently took his hands in hers. "I'm sorry, Brunito. So sorry. Can you ever forgive me, mijo?" She asked earnestly, her eyes still wide, her cheeks still stained with tears. "I drove away my son, and I was wrong. The miracle was never your gift. The miracle was my children, my family – you."

He swallowed. This – this was unexpected. He had expected a grudging acceptance back home with withering looks of disappointment and disapproval for at least a month. It wasn't that he couldn't forgive her, it was just – he'd only just realized how wrong she was, how truly messed up his family had become, and possibly his own contribution to that - and to process all of that, along with her apology, kept his mouth from moving at all.

The sound of Mirabel reuniting with her parents, and the rest of the family shouting with relief, distracted them. His mother took his hand again, pulling him toward the ruins. He hesitated, pulling back. "Uh – I don't know- I mean, I – I'll forgive you, or - I'll - I'll try - but - I just – I - "

"We've all missed you, Bruno. Please, come home. Let us try again." She squeezed his hand affectionately.

"Uh – okay." He whispered.

He hung back while his mother rejoined the family, apologizing again to his sisters - and when she motioned for him to come – and she reiterated before the entire family that the miracle was not his gift, but him - the looks on his sister's faces caused all of the emotion and uncertainty swirling in his chest to solidify into sweet relief and tentative joy.

Surprisingly, Pepa reached him first, throwing her arms around him and squeezing him so tightly he could barely breathe, and Julieta was close behind. They lifted him off the ground in their enthusiasm, and he smiled.

This was going so much better than he always envisioned in his head.

Maybe he had underestimated them a bit.

When Camilo protested his sudden reappearance with skepticism, Bruno decided to take the first step and apologize to his sisters for leaving. The reassurance they gave him made him a bit giddy, though there was still so much he felt needed to be explained, talked about, asked -

- And then the whole town showed up, and he had nowhere to hide.

Julieta noticed his discomfort immediately – the way he shrank back and reflexively gripped his ruana in his fist – and she took his hand in hers. "No vision was ever your fault, hermano. And – I'm sorry you had to deal with – so much on your own. You won't be alone, now." She squeezed his hand and smiled at him, Agustín nodding beside her, and Bruno's cheek twitched, his mouth pulling up into a half-smile of its own.

Pepa touched his shoulder, and Félix winked, giving him a thumbs up. "We've got you, bro."

If he didn't know better, he'd say the past hour of his life had been the most miraculous so far, and there was no candle in sight.

The family moved toward the doorframe of the house, Mirabel walking out in amazement as the entire village appeared on their doorstep. Bruno stood on his tiptoes to see over Pepa and Julieta. As the crowd reached the threshold, they paused, and Mirabel stepped forward, the tears in her eyes and wonder on her face communicating her question.

Surprisingly, the first person to step forward was a large, loud man Bruno recognized from one of his 'unfortunate' visions, bearing a basket of tools. He didn't remember his name, but –

Padre Tomás stepped forward next. "Our friends, please - it is time to lay down your load."

"You have done so much for us!" Came another voice.

"We may not have gifts, but we are many – and we'll do anything for you!"

Alma stepped forward to greet Señora Guzmán. Before she could speak, the woman squeezed her hands and shook her head, as if to say no apologies were needed.

Just then, the man – the man with the gut - Osvaldo, that was it! – stopped in his tracks, making eye contact with Bruno. His mouth dropped open and his eyebrows shot to his hairline in shock.

Bruno promptly rocked back on his feet, slumping his shoulders and looking down.

Here it comes.

"Hey! Bruno? Hey! Everybody! Bruno's back!" Osvaldo yelled.

It was silent for split second, and then the chatter started.

If Bruno had been able to hear anything besides the panicked buzzing in his ears, he would have heard some of the comments he expected – 'How can he show his face after deserting his family?' – 'Did his magic disappear as well? Let's hope so' – 'Better hide your goldfish, Señora Pezmuerto' –

-but he also would have heard the gentle curiosity and generally good-natured comments – 'He's back? I thought I saw a man on the horse with Mirabel, he must have found her' – 'He came back when his family needed him'– 'How wonderful for Alma, to have her family whole again.'"

His mother, however, heard a little bit of it all.

She stepped forward and held her hands up to quiet the crowd. "My friends, my neighbors, thank you for coming. I have something to say."

They waited expectantly, eager to hear.

She sighed, and turned to hold her hand out to Bruno. His sisters and brothers-in-law parted, and he reluctantly stepped forward. Mamá took his hand and pulled him beside her, and stared at the ground for a moment before looking up at the sea of faces before her. "I would like to apologize to you, and to my family – my whole family – before you all. In attempting to earn our miracle, our gifts, and our casita, I lost sight of what the real miracle was – and I forgot that gifts are not earned, but are freely, undeservedly given." She smiled sadly at her children and grandchildren, and then turned back to the crowd.

"While I do not regret encouraging my family to use their gifts for the good of the community, I do regret making them believe that their gifts were the only important thing about them – the only reason they were miraculous. I think you need only to turn to your families to see that the real miracles are the people who hold our hearts."

She squeezed Bruno's hand, and he saw the tears in her eyes ready to fall again. He smiled a gentle, encouraging smile at her – she was trying so hard, had realized so much –

"I especially apologize to my son, Bruno."

He swallowed. Now all the attention was back on him.

"He had a vision, ten years ago. He knew I would react badly." Her voice broke a bit, and she took a deep breath before going on. "He sacrificed the comfort of his home and left to try to protect our family, our Mirabel." She gestured to her granddaughter, who blushed and gave a little wave to the crowd. "He could not save our casita, could not save the magic – but neither could any of us. The damage I had done was too much. He did everything he could to salvage his family, the family I had deeply hurt. And today, he returned - ready to defend Mirabel and then, to bring us all home."

She looked out at the crowd, taking another deep breath to project her voice as much as possible. "I hope you will celebrate with me as we welcome him back to the family!" With that, she raised their joined hands above her head, and the crowd burst into cheers.

Apparently there was less ill will for him in town than he had anticipated, or perhaps the village was just feeling generous today – because as the town began to move, spreading out and calling commands to each other, preparing to remove the rubble and rebuild the house – he stopped counting the number of times he flinched when people slapped him on the shoulder, or boomed 'Welcome back, Bruno' beside him.

Truth be told, he felt uncomfortable. He understood what his mother was doing, and he was grateful for it. She was trying to make up for all the disapproving glances and all the tired disappointment she'd heaped on his back. She was trying to make up for never standing up to the town when they blamed him for his visions coming true – and trying to prevent the town from blaming him for this latest disaster. But it still felt strange and forced to him – while he hadn't heard anyone muttering about him under their breath or seen anyone perform the sign of the cross while walking by him – yet - he didn't think one speech from his mother was going to change the town's opinion of him all that much.

And truth be told, while it was a beautiful speech, it was also a lie.

He hadn't sacrificed the comfort of his home. While he had left to protect Mirabel, two miserable nights in the jungle had him scrambling home for shelter, and he never left again. And – had he really done everything he could to save the family? He thought that sounded more like Mirabel. That kid was a wonder. But him? He was more of a – coward.

He sighed as Julieta called him over to a pile of rubble to begin clearing it from the foundation. Hopefully, when his family found out the truth – the whole truth – they wouldn't turn their backs on him again.

A/N: Thank you for reading!

Footnotes - I did my best to cross-reference my research. Please let me know if I've got something wrong.

1) tiple – a string instrument similar to a small guitar, one of the national instruments of Colombia.

2) 'There is no better friend than a burden' – a Colombian proverb, I hope I used it correctly.

3) 'The tongue holds the power of life and death, and those who love it will eat its fruits.' – from the Bible, Proverbs 18:21 (basically, words are powerful, and if you love to talk or gossip, be prepared to eat your words.)

4) 'There is a time for everything…' – taken from the Bible, parts of Ecclesiastes 3:1-8.

I will attempt to post a chapter a week, posting on Wednesdays or Fridays. Again, apologies in advance if it does not work out the way I planned.

High School Spanish Refresher Course - Family Terms:

madre/padre - mother/father

abuelo/abuela - grandfather/grandmother

nieta/nieto - granddaughter/grandson

hermana/hermano - sister/brother

hija/hijo - daughter/son

mija/mijo - a term of endearment for daughters and sons combining mi hija/mi hijo/ into mija/mijo

prima/primo - cousin

tío/ tía - uncle/aunt

cuñado/cuñada - brother in law/sister in law

Thank you so much for your favorites, follows, and reviews. I appreciate them and they are very encouraging.