Disclaimer: Encanto does not belong to me. This story is not for profit.
Chapter 8
October 23rd
Afternoon and Evening
Camilo came to relieve Mirabel at noon. "My turn." He plopped down on the folding chair and then winced. "Ow."
"Yeah, it's not comfortable. Good luck with that," Mirabel said.
"I'm sorry," Bruno said.
"Did you make this chair?" Camilo asked.
"Well, no, but –"
Camilo shrugged. "Then why are you apologizing?"
Mirabel gave their uncle a pointed look. "You looked after this family with no one to help you in return for ten years. Let us do this."
Bruno fell silent.
"So, Dolores said you could help me write a telenovela," Camilo said.
Bruno propped himself up a little, which was a good sign. "Y-You wanna write?"
"Yeah. I just don't know how."
Mirabel smiled. "I'll leave you to it."
In the nave, Mirabel discovered her parents, Isabela, and Pepa and Félix. Her dad was hugging on her mom, and Pepa looked angry, but Isabela was happy. Instead of barreling in and asking questions like she would have done a week ago, she remembered Dolores' advice and just listened.
"Isabela needs to make her own decisions about her life," Agustín said.
"I know, but I feel so guilty." Julieta pressed her hands to her heart.
"Because Madre wants you to feel guilty," Pepa said quietly. She hugged Julieta. "She's given me the silent treatment so many times, usually because of not being able to control the weather good enough for her. When it rained on my wedding, she didn't come into the same room as me for three days. I took my meals in my room because she made all of you wait to eat until I wasn't there. And all without speaking a word to me. This is just a tactic."
Julieta trembled. "I know, but…I can't help thinking about her face."
Mirabel couldn't hold it in any longer. She turned to Isabela. "Did you talk to Señora Guzmán? What did she say?"
"We had a great time," Isabela said. "I have so much to tell you when I get the chance. I learned so much about our families." She hugged Mirabel, grinning. "But the best part is that she totally understands! I don't have to marry Mariano. And she said that if it were important, Tio Bruno would have seen it in a vision, which totally makes sense!"
Mirabel couldn't help but smile at seeing Isabela so relieved. "That's great." She hugged her sister in return.
"But Madre did not take this news well," Julieta said. "She said I stabbed her in the back."
Mirabel cringed. "Ouch."
"You did no such thing," Pepa said sternly. "If anyone did the stabbing, it was Madre. Look at you. Madre feels self-righteous, and you're the one who's been cowering and crying. Bruno's right, and he's always been right. We need to stand up for ourselves. I'm disgusted that I let Madre fan my resentment over Bruno's comment on my wedding day."
"She succeeded in getting us to stop talking about him, and that was wrong," Julieta said. She looked and sounded tired. "He's our brother. No matter what, he's part of our family – part of our lives – part of our past. And now, thank goodness, part of our present and future." She turned to Mirabel. "Thanks to you. I never properly thanked you for bringing our brother home." She gave Mirabel a hug.
Mirabel accepted the hug gratefully. "Thanks, Mamá."
"How is he?" Julieta asked.
"His head still hurts a lot," Mirabel said. "But he doesn't seem worried about it. Camilo's in there now trying to distract him by asking for writing advice."
"He's had migraines all his life," Pepa said, shaking her head. "Or almost that long. I know they either started after we got our Gifts, or they were worse after we got our Gifts. I could never get it out of him whether he had headaches all along and didn't tell us until they were this bad, or if they started after our doors appeared and we accepted responsibility for our part of the miracle."
"It's always the worst when we argue," Julieta said quietly.
Mirabel saw how that would reinforce the family's reluctance to talk about their problems. "So you tried not to argue, but then that ended up hurting the miracle."
Julieta cupped Mirabel's cheek and kissed it. "Don't worry. Bruno will feel better tomorrow. Let's go out to the building site. Luisa, Dolores, and Antonio are already there. Antonio got restless. He's a small child and doesn't really know what's going on, and he's got all this energy. Children need to be running around doing things, not cooped up listening to adults have boring conversations."
Mirabel wanted to push, to continue the 'boring conversations,' but then she remembered what Bruno and she had said about giving up control over trying to fix the family by herself and trying to force everyone to be happy. She consciously put on the brakes. "Yeah, let's go help out the village. After all, it's our home. They shouldn't have to do all the work."
"While we help out, I can tell you everything I learned from Señora Guzmán," Isabela said excitedly.
Mirabel grinned at her. "OK."
xxx
All afternoon people came up to Julieta and Pepa and told them they were sorry to hear about Bruno. For Mirabel, it was more than a little weird, since she'd gotten the impression that the whole village hated Bruno. While Mirabel and Isabela helped their mother and the other women of the village cook dinner, Isabela filled Mirabel in on as much family history as she could.
As Mirabel sat down on a picnic blanket to eat, balancing a tray with soup, arepas, stir-fried chicken and vegetables, and salad, she reflected on what she'd learned.
Abuela had been born Alma Luisa Santos Camacho. Her father had gained his independence from slavery in Brazil and moved to Colombia, carrying the name Joaquín da Bahia de Todos os Santos, after a place in Brazil called the Bay of All Saints. His surname had been shortened to Santos. The Camacho family had lived in Alma's village for at least seven generations. Joaquín fell in love with Alma's mother, Sofía Camacho Ruiz, but Papa Camacho hadn't liked Joaquín and had put the man through an extended courtship of five years before caving in and allowing the marriage.
Mirabel ate a spoonful of soup and paused. That means we have a history of running away from oppression. Bisabuelo Joaquín went through so much growing up, he had to have been afraid of losing everything. And then the soldiers came, and Abuela said she has been afraid of losing everything.
Abuelo Pedro had been born Pedro Marcelo Madrigal Gamboa. The Madrigals were musicians and singers. During his and Alma's courtship, he serenaded her so beautifully that all the girls were jealous. Being a musician was a socially esteemed job that elevated the Madrigals in the village, although the village as a whole was poverty-stricken.
After marriage, Alma had changed her name to Alma Luisa Madrigal Camacho, in the style of the village at the time, replacing her father's surname with her husband's. Unlike the Encanto, the outside world had placed a lot of emphasis on a husband's leadership over his wife and family.
Mirabel sighed and ate some salad. That explains why Abuela still feels so lost without Abuelo Pedro. She expected to have him here to tell her what to do. She's had to do everything herself. But…can't she see that all the women in the village look up to her example? She's done so well. She's become the most powerful person in the Encanto, someone everyone turns to, and the other women in the Encanto Mamá's age and younger are the heads of their families. She doesn't need Abuelo Pedro.
It unsettled Mirabel to think about how strange everyone in the Encanto would look to outsiders. Other men would look down on her dad and Félix for taking their wives' names upon marriage. Bruno would be considered the head of the Madrigal family. Tio Bruno would be deciding who gets married to Isabela. In that world, arranged marriages were common. Abuela's parents had let her choose because of their resentment over how Bisabuelo had been treated by Bisabuela's parents.
Camilo sat down beside her with a plate full of seconds. She knew it was his second plate because it had different stuff on it than she'd seen him take earlier. "Your face is going to melt if you keep thinking too hard."
"Your face is the one that melts," Mirabel retorted. "Your face at the dinner table when you found out about Tio Bruno's prophecy about me? I'm never going to forget it. Your eyes slid in different directions. If it hadn't been such a horrible moment, it would have been hilarious." She took a bite of arepa. "Speaking of Tio Bruno, how is he?"
Camilo shrugged. "Meh. I guess about the same. No one will tell me how long his headaches usually last."
"I get the feeling there is no 'usual'," Mirabel said. "He'll get better when he gets better."
"I can tell it sucks," Camilo said. He finished off an entire arepa in three bites.
A warm feeling settled over Mirabel at Camilo's choice to come sit by her. Then, after a few bites of stir-fried chicken and vegetables, she felt a cold spot under her sternum and swallowed hard. "I'm sorry."
Camilo paused in stuffing himself with a second arepa. "For what?"
Mirabel couldn't look at him. "I was jealous of you. It seemed like –" She took a deep breath. "It seemed like your Gift was being everyone that our family could ever want you to be, when I couldn't even be one person they wanted." Her eyes filled with tears at admitting how she'd felt. No, no, no. She was horrified. Tears, go away!
"I never knew you felt like that." Camilo set down his plate beside him and put his hand on her shoulder. "You always acted like you didn't care."
"I was pretending."
"Then I'm sorry for assuming that you were so comfortable with who you are that you never needed to change for anybody, and for being jealous that no one was trying to make you be someone you're not."
Mirabel took off her glasses and wiped her eyes, then looked at her cousin's anxious face. "No…I felt constant pressure to somehow be more, or be different, or to be gone, like Tio Bruno. I was always trying to change into someone better than me…and never succeeding."
Camilo squeezed her shoulder. "But you told Antonio you'd love him even if he didn't get a Gift."
"I wasn't lying," Mirabel said defensively.
Camilo gave her a look. "I thought you told him that because you feel the same way about yourself. How come you can love Antonio with no Gift, but you can't love yourself?"
Mirabel felt brutally exposed by Camilo's bluntness. But his bluntness was something that she loved about him. She felt like she could level with him. "Because it's easier to love someone else than to love yourself?"
Camilo shook her shoulder gently. "Well, you still need to try. We all need to try. Maybe we can love each other in this family for once, and that'll help us to love ourselves. I'll start. You're amazing. The way you stand up to Abuela is awesome. I wish I could do that. Every time I think about it, I get stage fright." He gave her a one-armed hug and picked up his plate, plowing through an arepa. "I like to think of myself as this super bold person, but I'm not. That's you, not me."
"I had less to lose," Mirabel pointed out. "I already knew Abuela hated me. As soon as I really accepted that, it became easy to stand up to her. I'll never have her love, so what's the use in running after it?"
"Wow. Does your Mamá know you feel that way?"
Mirabel shook her head quickly. "I'd never dare to tell her that. She'd just turn around and tell Abuela. And then Abuela would either call me ungrateful, or she'd say that she does love me." She took a deep breath. "OK, my turn. You're amazing. You notice so much about people. Shapeshifting into perfect replicas of others isn't automatic. I know you have to consciously mold yourself. That means you notice everything! Every detail of their appearance, how they dress, how they move…and you've gotten to the point that you do it so quickly. People forget the effort you put in. They just started making wild demands. They didn't ask themselves if anyone observed you the way you observe others. I'm nowhere near as observant as you. If I closed my eyes and had to describe my Mamá, I'd get it wrong. I can't even remember what my Mamá is wearing today."
Camilo was silent for a long moment. "I…I didn't expect anyone to remember that I have to consciously make every detail." He gave her a small smile. "It felt pretty good to get a compliment about how hard I worked to use my Gift."
Mirabel gave him a one-armed hug.
After they finished dinner and joined the cleanup crew responsible for washing, rinsing, drying, and stacking dishes, Mirabel asked, "Who's with Tio Bruno right now?"
"Luisa," Camilo said.
Mirabel took the plate Camilo washed and rinsed it, then handed it to Isabela, who dried it and passed it off to one of the village women. I wonder what memories Luisa has of Tio Bruno. Luisa had been 9 years old when Bruno disappeared. That was plenty old enough to remember things. "Isabela?"
"Yes?" Isabela looked at Mirabel with an expression of curiosity.
"You were eleven when Tio Bruno disappeared, right? So you must've remembered what he was like this whole time," Mirabel said. She rinsed and passed off another plate. "And I think it's going to be easier to talk to you than it is to Dolores."
Isabela accepted it. "And you're wondering what I remember."
"Yeah." Camilo had to nudge Mirabel to get her to take the next plate from him. She dunked it in the rinsing tub with a sigh and handed it off to Isabela.
"It's not all nice," Isabela said. "I feel bad for what he's been through, and I don't want to make it sound like I'm not glad he's back. It was really scary when he disappeared, and even scarier that Abuela immediately jumped to conclusions that he was a traitor and banned his name from the household. I learned from that what it would cost me to mess up around here. I've had nightmares ever since that day of being told I'm a traitor to the family and having my name banned, and becoming a ghost, or see-through, and nobody being able to see or hear me."
"Maybe, subconsciously, you knew that Tio Bruno was still in the house," Mirabel said. "Like, you knew more than you thought you knew."
"Maybe," Isabela said. Talking about her nightmares cast a pall over her; she looked slightly ill.
"I've had nightmares of getting stuck as someone else for the rest of my life, and not being able to convince anyone that it's me," Camilo said. "It's OK. You're not the only one with nightmares. Sometimes I think this whole family is a nightmare." He thought for a moment. "Except Antonio. He's too young to be part of the nightmare."
"You're so lucky," Mirabel said, smiling. "I wish he was my younger brother. All I can do to compete is be the best cousin ever."
Camilo grinned. "He is pretty awesome."
Mirabel eyed Isabela. "Now, back to Tio Bruno."
Isabela sighed as she dried the latest plate. "Sometimes I didn't see him for a whole month. He would be in his room that whole time, and Mamá would have to put food just inside his door and hope that when it disappeared from the plate, it wasn't just his rats." A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. "But when he felt like joining us, he could be really great. He loved us kids – hugging on us, telling us stories, getting us to play silly games, letting us hold and pet the rats. At those times, he was the perfect uncle. I always wished that Tio Bruno would stay. But then something would come over him, and he would lock himself in his room, and all he would say is that it was 'better that way'. I got to feeling so frustrated with him that I followed him into his room on one of those times, and he yelled at me to go away. Like, literally yelled. I'd heard him yell at Abuela a couple of times, but he never yelled at anyone else. Ever. I was crushed." She looked at the plate in her hands.
Mirabel had three plates stacked in her hands now, but she didn't interrupt.
Isabela shook herself and gave the plate in her hands away so that she could dry the stockpiled plates Mirabel held. "When he finally came out again, Mamá talked to him, and he apologized to me, like a million times, but no matter how I asked it, he wouldn't tell me why he had to hide from everyone. Now I wish I'd kept my mouth shut. Because the next time after that, when he hid, he hid from everyone in the walls. I didn't mean to make him go into the walls, Mirabel. I swear."
Mirabel rushed her and hugged her, still holding a plate. "You thought it was your fault? But it wasn't! It really wasn't. He was hiding from Abuela because he didn't want to tell her about the vision, and he was scared that she would wear him down. He was trying to keep the family from being scared about the cracks."
Isabela handed off her plate and her rag to the village woman hastily and hugged Mirabel in return. "I've been trying to tell myself that."
After they finished the dishes, Julieta sought out her daughters. She held two arepas wrapped in a towel. "I saved these for Bruno. I was thinking you might like to deliver them, Mirabel. After all, since you reunited with your tio, you've been so close to him. I thought you'd like an excuse to check up on him before going to sleep tonight."
"Why would I need an excuse?" Mirabel asked.
Isabela made a face.
Their mother cringed slightly. "When my brother isn't feeling well, he becomes a little…sensitive…about what we think of him. He takes too much hovering as a sign that we're annoyed. The less we fuss over him, the better. Causing Madre to fuss over him on purpose as a distraction is one thing. The rest of us doing it is another. He hates to feel like an invalid."
Mirabel smiled and took the towel-wrapped arepas. "Then I'll use this as a way to pry without seeming like I'm prying. Thanks, Mamá!"
xxx
As Mirabel approached the records office, she heard Luisa's voice saying, "You were right. I wish I'd followed your advice." When Mirabel got right up on the door to open it, Luisa's crying became audible. Mirabel flung open the door and said in her most cheerful voice, "Mamá sent you some dinner, tio."
Luisa bolted upright and fled two steps deeper into the room, then stopped and wiped at her cheeks frantically. "Uh – This isn't what it looks like."
Mirabel shut the door behind her in case Bruno was still light sensitive enough for the light in the hallway to hurt him.
Bruno sighed. "You don't have to hide your feelings from your sister. Now, my Madre, that's a good idea. My Madre is not a sympathetic person. You'd probably be better off keeping it to yourself. But not your sisters – either one of them." He rolled onto his side facing Mirabel. "Tell your Mamá thank you for me. You can put the plate on top of this filing cabinet here by the bed."
Mirabel did as he asked. "If Mamá asks, how are you doing?"
"Fine. Much better. Be back to my usual self in the morning."
Mirabel's lips quirked. "If I ask, how are you doing?"
"Just doing some talk therapy," Bruno said. "Like I told Luisa, there's this theory that if you talk – really talk – about what's on your mind with someone who won't interrupt you or judge you, you'll feel better in the end. I certainly found this to be true. I'd tell everything to my rats, and then I'd feel OK. They're like little therapists who only have to be paid in crumbs. A bargain."
Luisa burst into tears again.
Mirabel flung herself at her sister and tackled Luisa in a tight hug.
"I've been having these nightmares," Luisa admitted, her voice slightly difficult to understand due to the crying. "I kill somebody. Or the house we're building falls down on someone and crushes them. Or I'm holding up the falling house, but I'm getting weaker and weaker and the house feels heavier and heavier, and I know I'm going to fail in front of everybody and I'm going to get crushed."
"Isabela and Camilo and I were just talking about nightmares earlier," Mirabel said softly.
"Really?" Luisa sounded shocked. She stopped crying and wiped her cheeks. "I thought I was the only one."
Mirabel met her gaze and shook her head. "Mm-mm. And I have nightmares too, all the time. I think it's normal."
"If not normal, then normal for this family," Bruno said. "I was telling her about my nightmares."
"Maybe if we get together tomorrow and all talk about our nightmares, we'll all feel better," Mirabel said.
Luisa hugged her tightly, though the embrace didn't have the dangerously crushing strength it had before. "OK. Maybe you're right."
"A little family bonding time," Bruno said lightly. "'Here's what freezes my blood. How about you?'"
"The more this family talks, the better," Mirabel said. I noticed you're refusing to tell me how you feel. At least you're sitting up on the cot, though.
Luisa released her. "I'm sorry. I don't know what's come over me lately. I was talking with tio about how he used to tell me I needed to still enjoy being a little girl, and not to let people take advantage of my strength." She looked at Bruno shamefacedly. "But I didn't listen, and now the miracle's gone, and it's all my fault –"
Bruno held up a hand. "Whoa, it is not your fault, I never said it was, and I wouldn't let anyone else blame you for it, either – taking all the blame isn't going to fix anything, and it doesn't make me feel better when you do that."
Luisa looked at him with wide eyes.
Mirabel hugged her sister's side. "Yeah. What he said. It doesn't make me feel better. I feel worse."
"The one who wants us all to blame ourselves for everything is my Madre," Bruno said. "I have no illusions about who she is. As long as she could blame someone else, she was happy. I doubt that's changed."
Mirabel sighed. "I mean, she's making noises about how it's her fault the miracle died."
"Trust me, she's only doing it – she's only doing it so that someone will jump in and tell her she's wrong," Bruno said. He picked at the hem of his left sleeve. "I've seen this before."
Mirabel watched him fiddle with the loose thread at the hem of his sleeve for roughly three seconds before feeling like she was going to lose her mind. She put on a bright smile. "Want me to fix that for you?"
"Huh?" Bruno at least let go of the loose thread. "Fix what?"
Mirabel pointed with a smirk. "Your ruana."
"I can fix it myself," Bruno said, looking mystified. "I just need access to a sewing machine, or some needle and thread."
Mirabel was thrown off guard. "Are you sure? I mean, it's no trouble."
Luisa looked from Mirabel to Bruno and back to Mirabel.
Bruno wore an odd, crooked smile, and the expression in his eyes was one of sudden understanding.
"What?" Mirabel asked uncomfortably.
"Well, you were only five," Bruno said. "You were little. It makes sense that with me not around, and no one allowed to talk about me, you'd forget."
"Forget what?" Mirabel asked.
Luisa answered, laying a gentle hand on Mirabel's shoulder. "Tio was the one who taught you how to sew. The sewing machine you got was from his room."
"Too heavy," Bruno said with an awkward chuckle. "Couldn't take it with me." He patted the space on the cot next to him.
Mirabel slowly came over and sat down. She was in too much shock to do much except remember to breathe.
Bruno ran his arm around her shoulders and gave her a squeeze. "I never imagined you'd get this good." She was wearing her skirt today, and he gently pointed to the different embroidered symbols on it. "You wear your love for everyone. How long did it take you to do all this?"
"I did a little every day," Mirabel admitted. "It didn't happen all at once. Each symbol took me…a week, I guess? But it was fun. And it was something I could do by myself…that kept me out of the way." She suddenly had a lump in her throat. "No one complained about me if I was in my room sewing."
"You were never in the way," Bruno said. His expression was serious and a little angry.
Mirabel was so unused to anyone getting angry on her behalf that she didn't know what to say or do.
Luisa sat down on the folding chair. "I'm sorry like I always acted like I would rather do chores than talk to you. I just always had so much do so, and I was always running behind, and the list never seemed to end –"
"I don't blame you," Mirabel interrupted her. She gave Luisa a pained smile. "Of all the people in our family – besides you, Tio Bruno – the person who's always been the nicest to me is you, Luisa. I mean, nice for real. The thing Mamá does doesn't count. She feels like she has to say nice things about me. She's never said mean things about anybody. What she said to Abuela today is the first time she's even suggested that she disapproves of something someone else is doing."
"I always felt like it was my job to protect you, but then when Abuela was yelling, I didn't do anything." Luisa buried her face in her hands and cried.
Mirabel hugged Bruno quickly, stood, and went back over to Luisa, placing her hand on her sister's shoulder. "I mean, you're four years older than me, but you're not that much older. Mamá's the one who should've spoken up, not you. You said it yourself, you're not even an adult yet. It's wrong to place everything on your shoulders."
"I let Abuela push me around," Luisa wailed into her hands.
"So did everybody," Mirabel said.
At almost the same instant, Bruno said, "Everybody did."
They glanced at each other, and then put their attention back on Luisa.
Bruno sighed. "My Madre tries to get everyone to carry her guilt. No, no, that' s not it. Her shame. Yeah, that's the right word. Her shame. And whatever she's ashamed of, it's worth it to her to lash out at everybody instead of own it."
"What Tio Bruno is saying is, it's not about you," Mirabel said softly. "Whatever Abuela's problem is, it's got nothing to do with you." She hesitantly stroked her sister's hair. "I love you. And you're my big sister. And you'll always be my big sister, whether you have super strength or not. Remember when I said you're more than just your Gift?"
"Uh-huh," Luisa sniffled.
"I didn't go far enough. It's more right to say, you're not your Gift." Mirabel glanced at Bruno with a smile of thanks. "Your Gift isn't who you are. Your Gift has nothing to do with you. Not really. Abuela gave you the Gift she felt like would help the family the best with the problems they were having at the moment. It's not about you, and it's not fair to you. She can't tell you who to be."
"Abuela?" Luisa finally took her face out of her hands. "What are you saying?"
"Somehow, the Gifts come from my Madre's subconscious," Bruno said. "Whatever she's the most scared of, that's what the person at the ceremony gets the Gift to control or ameliorate. I figured that out a long time ago. I just couldn't get anyone to listen."
"Wow," Mirabel said, staring at her uncle. "I'd figured out that the miracle had to come from Abuela, but I hadn't gotten that far. That's the pattern?"
Bruno nodded. "That's the pattern."
Luisa wiped her cheeks and took a deep breath. Finally, she seemed genuinely calmer. "Then what happened to scare Abuela into giving me my Gift?"
Bruno gestured. "You know the quarry outside the village where the villagers extract stone? The week before your ceremony, there was an accident. They triggered part of the cliff side to fall down on them. Madre became worried that the villagers could cause an avalanche to come down on the whole village, including our house, if they weren't careful." He frowned. "Your Gift was so that you could literally lift our house out of the way."
Mirabel stared. "Wait." Her entire body tensed. "Are you telling me I didn't get a Gift because Abuela wasn't afraid of anything?" she shouted.
Bruno wilted onto the cot and rubbed his temples.
Mirabel clapped her hands over her mouth. "Crap. Sorry!"
"I'll live." Bruno draped an arm over his eyes. "To answer your question…"
Mirabel blinked. "Yes?"
"I have no idea."
Mirabel groaned, slumping. "But it makes sense."
Bruno waved an index finger in the air. "Ah, but just because it makes sense, doesn't mean it's true. We'll need to do more investigating."
"Investigating?"
"Well, thinking." Bruno let his hand flop down beside him. "At the very least, more thinking. When I don't have a headache anymore." He grinned. "Because if we know why you didn't get a Gift, then we'll have the key to the whole mystery. The miracle, sad to say, won't be a miracle anymore, because there will be an explanation, and miracles, being miracles, don't have explanations, because, you know, they're miracles – But at least we'll know what's going on in this family."
"You said if everyone figures out how to love each other, then the miracle will come back," Mirabel said.
"Right. Probably. Yes. But why will the miracle come back if everyone loves each other? And why did you not get a Gift? Because, you see, if we figure out how Gifts are distributed, then…then…Well, it's important."
"How can I help?" Luisa asked.
"By being observant, and being a good listener, two things you already are," Bruno said. "Just…observe, listen, and think."
"I'll try to get all of us grandkids involved," Mirabel promised. "If you say it's important to figure out why I didn't get a Gift, then it's important. I'll have to face my assumptions, and everyone else's, but being scared to talk about it is the problem."
