Mirabel wakes up to find her prima still asleep, huddled up against Bruno very much in the same way Antonio had been the night before, and wonders what she missed last night.

Bruno isn't moving, his eyes still closed, one arm sprawled over his niece. He looks like a corpse, albeit a peaceful one.

Señora Garcia is already up and working on breakfast, so Mirabel goes to help her.

"Good morning," she says, and the woman returns the greeting, but refuses to let her help.

"You are my guests," she explains, nodding toward the living room, where Dolores and Bruno haven yet to wake up. "It's nice to have guests." She glances once again toward Bruno's still form. "It is good to have him back."

Mirabel smiles. She's met two people already who aren't completely terrified of her uncle, and if there are two, certainly there must be more.

"Thank you for letting us stay with you," she says, and the woman waves her off.

"Anything for Brunito," she says. "He was always my favorite, not that your mamá isn't wonderful, Mirabel, but we always had a soft spot for the little Madrigal boy, Javiert and I. He always tried so hard..." she trails off and shakes her head before turning her attention back to the stove.

Dolores wakes up in time for breakfast, but Bruno never moves.

"Let him sleep," their host tells them. "Poor dear, he must be exhausted."

They finish breakfast and he's still not up. Señora Garcia shoos them away, saying that she'll be around, and he can eat when he wakes up, and that they should just let him sleep for as long as he needs to.

Mirabel and Dolores exchange worried glances but aren't really sure how to argue with a woman who looks to be nearly a hundred years old, even if she is several inches shorter than either of them. In the end they go, because the morning is starting to get on and there's still plenty of work to be done.

Mirabel finds Camilo and Antonio sitting together when she stops for lunch. All three rats are with her youngest cousin, and he's feeding them while he tries to convince Camilo that they're nice, that rats are clean and smart and cute. Camilo is having none of it.

"I thought the other two were with Bruno," Mirabel says, sitting down. Antonio shrugs.

"I think they got hungry. They do this when they want food." She looks, and the rats are on their hind legs, front paws together as if begging for more. "They know how to communicate, even if they can't talk. Even if I can't understand them anymore." Antonio takes a breath, sad again for a moment. "And they understand simple words. Watch. Rosalita, say hello."

The rat in question squeaks, and Antonio giggles.

Camilo rolls his eyes. "Tricks or no, hermano, they're still rats." All the same, he pinches off the corner of his food, and offers it to Fernando, who accepts it daintily. When it is finished, the rat practically leaps into Camilo's lap, startling the boy.

He throws himself backward with a yelp, arms flailing, and Mirabel darts forward, worried that her cousin is going to accidentally hurt one of Bruno's rats.

The animal squeaks and scampers off in spite of Antonio calling its name, and now Mirabel's worried that they've lost one of their uncle's rats, and Camilo is red-faced and spluttering.

The rat practically throws itself at an approaching figure Mirabel doesn't immediately recognize without the green ruana. Bruno reacts as if rats throwing themselves at him is nothing out of the ordinary and continues making his way toward them, the rat now settled on his shoulder.

"We've talked about this-need to be properly introduced-people don't like being surprised-" Bruno is having a rapid-fire conversation with the rat perched on his shoulder, and it sounds like he's scolding it. "I worry." He finishes, then looks over at Camilo, who is staring up at him in horror.

"Sorry."

Camilo's mouth opens, but words fail to come out. Mirabel's primo is completely at a loss for words. Antonio giggles.

"Fernando, say sorry." The rat squeaks almost mournfully, and Mirabel grins in spite of her cousin's mortification. "He knows better than that, really. He must like you-not that that's an excuse, Fernando."

Camilo eyes Bruno critically as the man invites himself to sit with them. "The rat. Likes me."

Bruno nods. "I think it's the-" he makes an odd gesture towards himself as he looks for the right words. "-the impression." Camilo stares at him, the look of horror back, and Bruno looks uncertain. "You know, seven-foot frame? Rats on his back?"

Camilo's eyes have somehow gotten even wider. "Oh, god."

Bruno chuckles. "Anyway, sorry. He won't-ah-bother you again."

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out what looks like one of the arepas de huevo Señora Garcia made them for breakfast that morning. He nibbles the edge absently for a moment before returning it to his pocket.

"Thank you for feeding them," he says to Antonio, nodding towards the two rats still sitting in the boy's lap. "I-may have overslept a bit."

Antonio smiles up at his uncle. "Can I watch them again today? Please?"

Bruno replies with a smile of his own. "You want to? I mean, it would be a big help, not having to worry about them."

Antonio nods and reaches out shyly for Fernando, who climbs down from Bruno's shoulder and into his hand.

Camilo follows his uncle through the crowd of people working to rebuild their house, part of him still utterly and completely humiliated by the thought that the man had overheard him and the other part-

Well-

Camilo eyes his uncle again as he finds whoever he had been looking for. The two men exchange not entirely comfortable greetings, and Bruno settles down to work on mixing something up in a bucket. Another empty bucket rests nearby.

It takes several minutes, but Bruno finally looks up, wariness in his eyes as they lock with Camilo's own.

"Hi."

Camilo inches closer to his uncle.

"Hi," he echoes the older man.

Bruno goes back to mixing whatever's in the bucket, but Camilo gets the feeling the man is still watching him out of the corner of his eye. He realizes that his uncle is not going to start the conversation, so he has to, which is absolutely, completely not fair.

If Camilo's going to be in trouble, his uncle could at least have the decency to bring it up himself.

"So, the song," he finally says. Bruno doesn't look up.

"The song," he echoes, but doesn't continue.

"You heard it."

Bruno hums in confirmation. "Nice beat," he says, after what feels like an eternity.

Camilo feels his eyebrows recede into his hairline. "What?"

"Fernando really does appreciate a catchy tune. You may have made a friend, whether you want one or not."

Camilo doesn't know what to do with this. If anything, he feels like the man should be mad, or his feelings hurt, or something.

"The poetry was pretty good too." Bruno adds after another minute of silence. "Feasts on your screams." He chuckles.

Camilo takes a deep breath and sits down beside his uncle. "Okaaaay..." He looks him over again. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure."

"You aren't seven feet tall."

"And that's not a question."

Camilo sighs. "We're the same height."

"Still not a question."

"Why are you so short?" he demands. The man shrugs.

"You were five the last time I saw you. I probably looked a lot taller then." Camilo stares at Bruno. It's an answer, he guesses, but he really hasn't even gotten the right question out. He's not even sure what the question is.

"You had the rats back then?"

"Not the same ones. They stayed in the tower a lot though. Mamí didn't care for them. Neither did Juli or your mamá." He shrugs again. "So mostly they stayed hidden."

"Why rats?" he asks. Bruno's shoulders hunch forward slightly.

"I found one, it had been-it had been caught in a trap. I couldn't just leave it to die. It just kind of escalated from there, I guess."

Camilo considers all this while watching his uncle stir a bucket full of white stuff. "What is that? He finally asks, wrinkling his nose at it.

"Spackle. It's used to fill holes, cracks, other defects..." he trails off. "Just trying to help, I guess."

"I wish I could help." Camilo says, and wishes he hadn't, but he has, which means it's too late to back out now. "I used to be able to turn into anyone I wanted. I could be stronger, taller, older-whatever I needed to be. Now I'm just some scrawny teenager. I can't turn into anyone."

"Doesn't mean you can't help." Bruno says, considering the spackle carefully.

"I know," Camilo admits. "I'm just not sure how. And I guess I'm so used to people asking me to turn into someone else that asking if I can help as me feels weird."

Bruno considers this for a moment before reaching for a second bucket, one that's empty, and sliding it unceremoniously over Camilo's head.

"Now you are Jorge." His uncle's voice sounds funny with a bucket between them. "Jorge makes the spackle."

"I don't know how to make spackle," Camilo tells him, sliding the bucket out from over his head.

"Easy. Come here, I'll show you."

Pepa watches her brother slide a bucket over her son's head and taps one foot worriedly against the ground.

Julieta, of course, notices.

"It's nice to see him getting along with the children." Julieta comments, her tone gentle. Pepa frowns.

"He gave Antonio his rats." She shudders. "And I don't even want to know why my other son has a bucket on his head."

"Bruno would never do anything to hurt any of his sobrinos." Julieta reminds her.

"Bruno's been gone for ten years. Who knows what he's like now."

"He left to protect Mirabel. He came back for the same reason. I doubt that much has changed." her words are firm, but kind, like she knows that Pepa's concern is more complicated than she's able to fully explain, and like she knows the real reason she's irritated with their hermano.

"He hasn't said anything since he apologized for ruining my wedding." It bothers her, even though it was the one constant sticking point between the two of them for years before he left, that it was the first thing he said to her. That that was what he thought was most important. "He's talked to all my kids. He can't talk to me?"

Julieta sighs. "You said he talked to you about the rat."

"He only did that for Antonio," she counters, and they both know it's true.

"Give him time?" Julieta suggests. "It's been ten years, Pepa."

"You think he'll bolt, don't you, if we try to force it." Pepa knows he will, and it's why she hasn't gone to him already, but it doesn't make it any easier to watch him talk to her children and niece and not to her.

Camilo decides his uncle is weird, but he does know how to make spackle, and guides him through each step. When it's ready, he introduces Camilo to the man he's helping, a Señor Rodriguez, albeit as Jorge. Señor Rodriguez looks mildly confused, but not particularly worried, and Camilo shakes his head.

"Actually, it's Camilo," he corrects, and they shake hands. "Do you mind if I help?"

"Of course not!" The man is friendly, very quick to smile. "As long as only one of you is Jorge at once," he adds, and Camilo shoots his uncle a look. Bruno looks a bit embarrassed.

"Jorge might not make it today," he says, looking at the ground.

"Well, we'll just have to manage without him, I suppose."

A couple hours later Bruno just kind of stops. Camilo doesn't notice right away, but then Señor Rodriguez is there, asking the other man if he's all right, and Bruno is looking up at him as if he's not entirely sure of the answer.

"If you need a break, Señor, I understand." Señor Rodriguez is saying, and then Bruno is blinking and trying to pull himself back together, but he's awfully pale and there are dark circles under his eyes and neither Camilo nor Señor Rodriguez are convinced that he's okay.

"I'm fine," he says, unconvincingly. "Just tired. I-"

Señor Rodriguez waves him off. "It's okay, go take a break. Both of you. You've been working so hard, after all-" He shoots Camilo a meaningful look, and the boy realizes he's basically being told to take his uncle somewhere so he can rest.

He's not sure it's fair, but Bruno looks tired, so he gives in. "I could use a break, now that you mention it. Come on, Tío."

He leads the man away from the house, towards the trees where it's nice and shady, and tries not to resent the fact that he's basically just been asked to baby-sit his uncle.

Bruno waves him off when he tries to ask again if he's okay, but settles cross-legged under a tree and pulls a half-eaten arepa out of one of his pockets. He takes a bite before looking up at Camilo, an expression the boy doesn't understand momentarily clouding his features.

They sit there in silence for a while. Camilo can't think of anything to say to his long-lost uncle, and Bruno either can't think of anything either or doesn't mind the awkwardness creeping up between them, Camilo's not sure which.

And really, they've discussed the song, and that's all Camilo's got. Because he doesn't remember his uncle, really, at all. And for as long as he can remember the rule's been we don't talk about Bruno.

Except now Bruno is here, right in front of him, sitting cross-legged under a tree with his hands folded in his lap, looking anywhere but at him.

"So Antonio likes you," Camilo ventures, because the silence is getting to be too loud. Bruno hums in agreement, but doesn't say anything, leaving Camilo to either try again or let the silence completely take over. "And Mirabel. Did you really leave because of her?"

Bruno frowns. "I left to protect her," he corrects.

"From what? Your vision?" Camilo asks, and his uncle fidgets, looking more than a little like a small child caught in the middle of doing something wrong.

"I didn't want them to blame her," he admits.

"For the house falling apart? For us losing our gifts?" Camilo asks. That lost feeling is coming back, and Dios mio, it hurts.

Bruno sighs. "I didn't know it would go this way."

"But you can see the future." Camilo doesn't understand how his uncle could see the future and claim he didn't know what was going to happen. Nor does he understand the hurt he sees in the man's eyes before he looks away.

"I'm sorry about your gift."

Camilo's breath catches, and again, it hurts. Like being punched in the stomach, he thinks. He doesn't want to talk about his gift. He doesn't want this man-this stranger-to try to make him feel better about it.

He changes the subject.

"So how many rats do you have?" he asks. Bruno does not answer immediately, and Camilo worries that the man is going to try to make him talk about losing his gift anyway.

"I don't have them, exactly," he says instead. "It's not like I own them, or anything. They just-hang around."

"So how many rats do you have hanging around, then?" Camilo asks. He doesn't argue the point, because he wants to get as far away from the previous subject as he can, and to do that, he needs his uncle to cooperate. "Is it just the three?"

"Rosalita, Fernando, and Alejandro always stay close," Bruno says dismissively. "And they're the most well-behaved, so they're less-less likely to wander off and get into trouble."

"So you have more."

"Have you seen me with more?" Bruno asks, evasive, raising a questioning eyebrow. He meets Camilo's gaze, then, silently challenging him.

"I won't tell." He knows his mamá hates rats. Tía Julieta doesn't care for them either.

Bruno is silent for a long while, staring Camilo down. Just as he decides the conversation is over, that his tío isn't going to answer, Bruno blinks.

"At least a dozen, last count." Bruno practically whispers the answer, and it's Camilo's turn to stare.

"That's a lot of rats."

Bruno shrugs. "Some of them are closer than others. Some just like the free food and the warmth."

Camilo looks the man over. "So where are they?" he asks, and once again Bruno shrugs.

"Most of them come and go as they please. Right now they're trying to stay out of sight and out of trouble." He hesitates. "Most people-not many people are interested in them, not beyond worrying about whether they're getting in the cupboards."

Camilo shrugs. He can talk about just about anything, if it means avoiding something he doesn't want to talk about. "So do they? Get in the cupboards."

Bruno shakes his head. "They know it attracts unwanted attention. They stay out of the kitchen. Off the table."

"Do you have any more with you now?"

Bruno hesitates again, eyeing Camilo as if he's never met anyone like him before in his life. "Cecilia's with me," He reaches carefully into his shirt-a shirt that is several sizes too big for him-and pulls out a cinnamon-colored rat. "She's always with me."

"Okaay." Camilo watches him gently settle the rat into his lap. "That's a little creepy."

Bruno chuckles. "She's blind" he explains. "She can't see, so she stays with me, unless-well, she stays close." He runs a finger along her back, petting the animal carefully. "I trust you'll treat this information as privileged. I'd rather people didn't know I always have at least one rat on me at all times."

Camilo still thinks it's weird, but maybe a bit sweet, too, that his uncle cares so much about a blind rat. "Any others?"

"Not at the moment."

Dolores finds them still under the trees. Bruno has shown no inclination towards returning to work and is by now sprawled on his back, eyes half-closed. Camilo, still not quite happy with his new position as uncle-sitter, is also on his back, staring up at the sky because really, what else is there to do?

His sister smiles at Bruno and joins them, seating herself daintily on the grass next to their uncle. Camilo wonders how much she remembers about the man. She was older when he left, does that mean she remembers what he was like back then?

"Hola, Doli." Though he barely glances in her direction, his lips quirk into a small smile.

"Hola, Tío," she replies. "How are the rats, today?" she asks, and Bruno's smile widens.

"Oh, you know," he answers almost breezily, "Emilio is still pining after Margerite, but she only has eyes for Stefan." Dolores gasps, a hand flying to her mouth.

"Still?" Bruno nods. Dolores wrings her hands, distressed. "When will she realize Stefan is a lazy rat who only cares about eating and sleeping?"

Bruno shakes his head. "I have tried to explain it to her, querida, but she has her heart set. I cannot change her mind."

They both sigh, and Camilo looks from one to the other. He has no idea what's going on.

"How is Ophelia?" Dolores asks a moment later. Bruno grins, albeit a bit madly.

"Very. Very. Pregnant," he says, and Dolores laughs.

Camilo is suddenly jealous, though he doesn't understand why. Why should it bother him if they already seem to know each other so well? Why should he care that his sister knows the man's rats by name, while he has to coax Bruno into even admitting he has them?

"Well, since you're here, I guess you can keep an eye on him." Camilo stands suddenly, waving a hand carelessly in his uncle's direction. "I've got things to do than uncle-sit."

He already feels bad as he's walking away, and he knows they're staring at him, but he's also embarrassed, because neither of them deserves that.

But his uncle is weird, and Camilo is not sure he can handle any more of it right now, so he keeps walking.

He'll apologize tomorrow, he decides. Or this evening.

Dolores watches her hermano go, her eyebrows furrowed, her lips pressed together to form a thin line.

"Don't worry about, Doli," Her uncle says, but he's hurt, a little. She doesn't need her gift to hear the weariness in the words.

"He'll come around. He doesn't really know you, yet."

"Ay, all he knows are scary stories." Tío Bruno tries to laugh it off. "Seven foot frame, indeed."

Dolores plops down on the grass beside him, her head touching his shoulder. "He's a good kid."

"I know, don't worry about it."

"I could talk to him." She offers and feels her uncle stiffen beside her.

"Please don't."

His voice is tiny as he says it. She's heard him like this only once before, and it's something she doesn't like to think about. She decides to let it go.

"He'll probably apologize tomorrow, if not sooner. He's not really the type to avoid stuff like this for long."

She feels him relax, just a little, and wishes she could do more to help because she knows, in spite of how hard he's working at it, that all of this is very, very hard for him.

"Gracias, mija," he says, and she knows he's not just thanking her for not talking to her brother.

Camilo runs into Antonio, who is feeding the rats dinner, and that only makes him feel worse, because he wasn't jealous of Antonio so there's no reason he should he be jealous of Dolores, and Bruno has been nothing but nice to any of them, but especially to his baby brother, who was devastated after losing his gift.

"Hi, Camilo," Antonio offers him a sweet smile. "I'm feeding Rosalita, Fernando, and Alejandro their dinner."

"I see." He sits down, though he doesn't want to. One of the rats, Fernando, probably, looks at him for a moment, but then goes back to eating.

"I've been watching them all day," Antonio explains. "They're funny."

"Uh-huh."

Antonio looks at his brother and frowns. "Are you okay, Camilo? You look mad."

"I'm not mad." Camilo says, shaking his head.

"Are you sad?"

"No."

"Do you miss your gift?" Antonio asks, and Camilo huffs. He doesn't want to talk about this, especially not with a five-year-old.

"No. Yes. But that's not what's wrong."

"What is wrong?" Antonio presses. Camilo shakes his head.

"Nothing, don't worry about it."

Antonio pouts, reluctantly turning his attention back to the rats. "Everybody thinks I'm too small to help with anything."

"Bruno doesn't." Camilo points out. He doesn't want to talk about Bruno, but he also hates seeing his hermano sad. "He trusts you with his rats. I get the feeling there's not a lot of people he trusts with them."

"Really?"

"Really." Camilo assures him.

"Really." Camilo whips his head around. Bruno is standing there, smiling down at the boy. "Thanks," he says, as Fernando and Alejandro scramble up his pant legs, disappearing under his shirt. "It means a lot to me, knowing they're being looked after so well."

Antonio stares up at their uncle for a moment. Without warning, he throws himself at Bruno's legs, the rat that was still with him squeaking as she leaps to his shoulder. Bruno stumbles, thrown off balance, his arms windmilling as he tries to stay upright.

He recovers and pats Antonio awkwardly on the shoulder. "Will you keep Rosalita again tonight?" he asks. "She really enjoys spending time with you."

Antonio nods into his legs, not yet ready to let go. Bruno looks down at him uncertainly, but doesn't try to disentangle himself from the boy.

Camilo eyes them both, taking a deep breath as he does so. "Hey, hermano," he says, and Antonio removes his face from Bruno's legs. "Can I talk to Tío Bruno for a minute? Alone?"

Antonio hesitates for a moment before nodding. "I'm gonna go find mamá," he says, rubbing his eyes. Rosalita scrambles down off Bruno's shoulder and into the boy's arms.

Camilo and Bruno both watch him go.

"So," Camilo begins, and Bruno turns to look at him, rubbing his forearm uncertainly. Camilo sighs. "Sorry," he says, before he can change his mind. "What I said-it was rude. I was just-I don't know." he frowns. "I mean, seeing the two of you, talking like old friends, and meanwhile I-I don't know. It's different." He looks down at his feet. "I don't know why."

"It's okay," Bruno says. Camilo expects him to say more, but he doesn't, not for a long time. "It's going to-it's going to take some time-I think. You were just little when I-when I left. And I-I've been gone for ten years. That's a long time."

Camilo frowns. "I guess. I mean, Dolores is older than me. I guess she remembers you? But Antonio wasn't even born, and you guys get along great. Is it because of the rats?"

"Heh," Bruno looks distinctly uncomfortable. "It does make things a little easier. It's something we can both talk about."

Camilo considers this. "What if I wanted to hold one?" he asks, and sees the way his uncle hesitates. "Never mind." He didn't want to hold any of the rats anyway, not really, but it stings that his uncle apparently doesn't want him to either.

Bruno closes the distance between them and settles a rat into his hands. "This is Fernando. You-you met earlier."

"I remember." His skins crawls, just a little bit, but Camilo ignores it. The rat is cleaner than he expected, warm and soft. Its whiskers tickle in his hand. Carefully he runs a finger down the animal's back, like he's seen his uncle do. The rat flattens out into his palm.

"He likes you," Bruno says, smiling down at the rat. "If you want to-to hold on to him for, for a while, you can." He shrugs. "You d-don't have to, just because, because Antonio does it."

Camilo scowls. He doesn't really want to hold on to the rat, but he doesn't want to admit that he doesn't want to either. "I can hold on to him. He won't wander off?" Bruno shakes his head.

"Nah he-he'll stay with you," he says, pulling Alejandro out of his hair and stroking the rat absently.

Camilo looks down at the rat in his hands. "So, can you actually talk to them? I mean, you obviously talk to them, but do they actually understand you?"

"Meh," Bruno shrugs. "They're smarter than most people think. I've-I've been talking to them for years. They pick up on things, after a-after a while."

Bruno returns to la casa de Señora Garcia that evening to find Dolores and Mirabel already there, talking softly, and he gets the feeling they're waiting for him.

He's distinctly uncomfortable as he sits down in spite of the fact that both girls greet him with smiles; there have been too many conversations with too many people in the past two days, and far too much time spent out in the open. He's on edge, his brain screaming at him to run, to hide, but there's nowhere to go.

He's also down two rats now, not that he really regrets handing the others off to either of his sobrinos. He'd do it again in a heartbeat, but giving them up leaves him without their reassurance, and Alejandro gets just as nervous around people as he does-he also tends to feed off Bruno's uneasiness instead of comforting it, but Bruno can't hold that against him. Alejandro is a very timid rat, and the most like Bruno out of all his furry companions.

He resists the urge to rifle through his pockets for the last remains of the arepa Señora Garcia gave him from breakfast, remembering the look Mirabel gave him when she caught him at it the day before. He supposes he can wait until after the girls fall asleep to sneak some of it.

"Did you make up with Camilo?" Dolores asks as he sits down. "I saw you talking."

Bruno nods. "He apologized for being rude."

"I knew he would." Dolores looks relieved, all the same.

Mirabel doesn't ask what happened, which makes Bruno think maybe Dolores has already told her. He wonders what else Dolores has told her younger prima. Dolores knows a lot-far too much-about her uncle and what the past ten years have been like for him. Things he doesn't want anyone to know, never mind his fifteen-year-old niece. Things he wishes Dolores didn't know, but there's really nothing he can do about that except feel guilty.

"I let-let him hold on-hold on t-to Fernando." Bruno says. He knows he's stuttering-he's tired, he's stressed, and most of his rats are scattered, trying to keep out of the way while the house is rebuilt. Most of them have found dark holes to hide in, safe places in which to take refuge until they finish rebuilding. No refuge for Bruno, though. The man is terrifyingly, painfully exposed.

Dolores scoots closer to him, her arm barely just brushing against his, and he's grateful that she's mindful of the space between them, because he's not sure he can handle anything more just now.

"So that leaves Alejandro," she says. "Is he still with you?" Bruno nods. Cici-Cecilia is with him too, small and fragile in her hiding place. A small comfort, but appreciated all the same.

"Señora Garcia left your clothes for you." Mirabel offers, pointing to a stack of freshly cleaned laundry. His green ruana is on top, neatly folded.

Bruno retrieves it, not bothering to change the rest of his clothes as he pulls it over his head, and feels his shoulders loosen just a fraction.

"Gracias, Mirabel," he says.

"De nada, tío." She smiles at him, and he has just enough energy left to return the smile.

Author's note: Thanks to everyone who read, followed, favorited, reviewed, etc. It's super encouraging! And I love writing this. I plan to take my time with it, because I feel like there's a lot that should have happened between Bruno coming back and everyone getting their gifts back, and I don't want to rush it.

Leonel Pea, you're quite welcome. I never expected to help anyone with advice given out through Disney fanfiction, of all things, but now there's a warm fuzzy feeling in my heart at the thought. Take care.

Disclaimer: Disney's Encanto does not belong to me.