Her chest felt light again, though she did not need to breathe. Her mind was returning and the pain was gone. She opened her eyes and her heart cracked at the sight of her family. Her daughter had run out of tears, but held her deceased mother's hand. Her son held her wife, who was expecting a child very soon, and the wife wept for her loss, the father's eyes wet.

Coco's mind had returned slowly and she stared at her family. Her darling great-grandson, Miguel, was crying slowly and silently as he rested his arms on the bedside, and yet he smiled. Coco knew that he was a wise boy and understood that now she was without pain. But… there was something more…

He loved you, Mama Coco. Your papa… loved you so much.

I know no one will believe me, but… I saw him, Mama Coco. I met your papa.

He loved you so much, and your mama.

He helped me, Mama Coco. He and your mama helped me get home.

It was beautiful. You will love it! And one day, you'll get to see him. I promise.

Coco finally understood. She believed him. Her memory had came and went throughout the years, much like her health, but through it all, Miguel told her everything, and now she fully understood.

I have a dimple on this side, but not on this side. Dimple, no dimple. Dimple, no dimple. Dimple, no dimple.

I tried to eat the peel once, but it was gross! I just couldn't chew it!

I used to run like this, but now I run like this, which is way faster!

Do you like the rain, Mama Coco? I actually like it a lot more now than when I used to.

Coco chuckled at his great-grandson and wished she could hug him, but she knew any effort to touch him was fruitless. She looked around and tried to think of what to do next.

Hector paced nervously in the little office. It had a beautiful view of the Land of the Dead, but he couldn't care less. His new shoes clicked on the wooden floor and rustled the rug beneath him. He removed his hat and ran a hand through his hair. Imelda watched with a small smile as she sat in a wooden chair, her arms crossed over her chest and one leg resting on top of her other knee.

Perhaps it was because he was a musician, but Hector could never be still, especially his hands. They were always so sure of what to do and how to behave, from playing a guitar, to wiggling fingers in front of a giggling baby girl, to holding Imelda's cheek (or nowadays, cheekbone) while he kissed her gently. Imelda watched Hector put his straw hat back on and moved to the giant window. He leaned an arm against it, looking out at the land, but he was tapping his foot against the floor and soon resumed his pacing.

Imelda rolled her eyes inside of her sockets and said sternly, "Hector, por favor. She will be fine. They all find their way."

"I'm not afraid of her getting lost, Imelda." Hector said and looked at her. His tone was very matter-of-fact, but he was trying to mask something: the glee in his voice.

Even in life, Hector was a very energetic, excited, quick-witted man. In death he was no different. Imelda saw that he was not nervous or scared for his daughter, but excited! After so many years, he was finally going to meet her! Imelda had a right to be angry with him for many years, but… she found she wanted him to see her again, as well.

Imelda stood up and took her husband's hands. "I know. I am excited, too, but you must get a grip, querido."

"What is she like?" Hector asked, ignoring Imelda's request. "How much as she changed?"

Imelda smiled and paid a little too much attention to a piece of Hector's hair that hung in between his eyes. She took her time placing it with a bigger lock of hair that swept just above his eyes before answering him.

"She is more like you than I care to admit." She teased, but her voice was genuine and kind. "She is patient and forgiving and kind-hearted. She hasn't changed much from that obedient, thoughtful little girl, and she is loyal to the end. She's a loyal wife, a loyal friend, a loyal daughter, she sticks by everyone and is always there, even if it's not the way you want her to be."

Hector closed his eyes and hummed in relief. Imelda moved one hand to his cheekbone and moved her thumb back and forth, stroking him. What she said was true; even if Coco didn't like it, she was always loyal to her family and always would be. She learned how to make shoes and helped her mother's business, and remembered her father and shared his stories when freed to do so. Hector was proud and desperately wanted to meet her, but…

Hector opened his eyes, and the joy was almost gone, consumed by worry, as he thought of something. Imelda was finally seeing the face she expected to see. He looked just like he did when they were reunited after so many years. When Imelda saw him as she hugged her great-great-grandson, he was deeply saddened and was slightly hunched over as he was completely at her mercy. That look he gave as he flinched at her words and had to relive the fact that he lost everything, was all over his skull once again. Imelda suddenly wished she had been wrong.

"Is she angry?" Hector said quietly, not sure if he wanted the answer.

Imelda shook her head and blinked as her eyes began to sting, moving her hand from his skull to his hands again. "No, she was never angry with you. I think she knew all along that you loved her, but she had pushed her thoughts aside to please me. I think…" imelda sighed and looked away, still holding onto Hector. "I think I was too harsh o…"

"No, no, no." Hector pleaded and looked down to try to meet her gaze. "This is my fault, not yours."

Again, it was just like that dreadful day. Hector may had left his family to pursue a dream, but Imelda was not innocent, either. She had tried to erase his memory and lended a big hand in him being forgotten. In her mind, she nearly as good tried to murdered him. And what was Hector's response? To make sure she never blamed herself. Even as his final death threatened to kill any chance of seeing his daughter, Hector used what precious time he had left to reassure Imelda.

Though now, thank God, Hector was not on his deathbed, he was still doing everything in his power to make sure Imelda never blamed herself, even if she deserved it.

Imelda looked back at Hector and he gave her a small smile to try to get her to do the same, it worked and she responded with a light kiss. Hector closed his eyes and moved one hand from Imelda's and wrapped his arm around her, bringing her closer. Throughout the few months they had been reunited, Imelda had not allowed such a pure moment between them. A peek on the cheek maybe, or they'd hold hands, or merely talk, but today she could not resist.

Imelda moved her now free hand to Hector's shoulder, allowing him to hold her even closer, still one pair of hands holding one another, their fingers intertwined. Their kiss was deeper now and Imelda could almost find Hector's gold tooth…

Julio hurriedly opened the door and called, "She's here! She's crossing the bridge right now!"

Hector and Imelda jumped apart due to the scare and looked at their son-in-law, who's skull sunk deeper into his shirt out of embarrassment.

"Eh… s-sorry."

"Nevermind." Imelda said kindly and pulled Hector out of the office, still holding his hand. "Come!"

Though they all missed her dearly and were excited, it was an obvious choice to have Hector be the first person she sees. Her mama was behind him and Julio knew he would have plenty of time to be with his wife. They had all the time in the world now.

Hector stood on the other side of the gate, a few feet away from the bridge. He knew his family was right behind him and could probably see his shaking. He took in several deep breaths and tried to keep himself together. He tried to steady himself and he peered out into the indigo sky that hid the living world from view.

It started as a little white dot, but grew into a hunched over skeleton wearing a shirt, slippers, and a warm shawl over her shoulders. She still wore her hair in braids, like how he used to do her hair as a child. She looked all around her at the beautiful buildings, the sky, the bridge, the spirit-creatures of this world, and the entrance to the Land of the Dead. She awed at her new home and her eyes glimmered in wonder. Finally, she focused on the people waiting for her and looked carefully.

She was a good twenty feet away when she stopped walking and stood on that bridge. Hector's nervous smile dropped as she looked at her, but he quickly picked it back up, determined to smile for her. He had imagined this scene for nearly a century, but now that it was here, he had no clue what to do.

He rubbed an arm nervously. "Coco, I…"

"PAPA!"

Coco broke into a run that kicked up petals everywhere. Hector felt his eyes well up with tears, as so did his daughter's. Hector started a few steps forward to meet her when Coco leaped into his open arms and cried joyfully into his chest.

"Papa!" Was all she could wail as she held him tightly, afraid that if she let go he would be gone again.

"Ah, Coco." Hector said heavily and held his daughter as close as he could.

Hecto was bent down to hold Coco close to his chest as she wept silently into his ribs. They both sank to their knees and held each other. There was no words necessary; no "I missed you", no "what happened" not even "I love you", for it was all said, and more, in that hug.

Hector held Coco by her shoulders to take a good, long look at her. She had grown into quite the strong, kind, beautiful woman, and even with her flesh peeled away, in Hector's eyes there was no more beautiful girl anywhere. Hector kissed all over her cheeks and chin and forehead and she allowed herself to giggle like a child and held him close once more.

Close behind them, smiling at peace, Imelda watched her family's warm reunion. She remembered that feeling of pride she had when she saw Hector holding their daughter for the first time, or playing with Coco, or hearing their songs. That pride had returned and roared like a lion in her chest.

Coco looked up, still holding her papa close, and grinned, if possible, even wider at the sight of Imelda.

"Mama…"

"Coco."

Imelda knelt down and Hector looked at her to see her smile. It was clear where Coco got her beauty. Imelda held her family and the three happily sat on the floor and hugged, not counting the minutes, not caring who saw.

Rosita was wiping tears away from her skull with a bony fingers and Victoria gave a stiff sniff to try to compose herself. The twins were close together as if held that way by magnets, and watched their sister look happier than she had in almost a century. Their smiles were genuine, unlike their usual goofy selves, and they felt peace. Julio watched a huge smile, making his mustache curl up his cheekbones, delighted to see his wife's biggest dream come true. He knew his time to be with Coco undisturbed would come; he could be patient.

What they said about death was true; it was not a time to be sad, but a time to celebrate.