She knew. She knew she knew she knew-

Dolores tried to catch her breathing as she realized it was starting to hyperventilate – only a little bit, but enough for it to be a concern. She tried to pull herself together and put on a mask, at least until she could get home.

That would be a bit of a stretch – if anyone else had been gifted with super hearing, they would hear right through her. Something was up, and if only at that moment, Dolores was glad she was the only one in the family with such a heightened sense. Only she could see through herself.

Steps were cautious as suddenly everything felt louder. Her hands remained balled up and resting in front of her chest, not daring to remove the facade that she was alright; everything was normal.

Who could blame her for being this nervous, when she doesn't even know the state of her lies to the family?

How many knew? Did she even know in the first place? Dolores had to debate whether Tía knew about her secret, if anything she could read from their interaction gave it away – if anyone else knew or could speculate this way. She had hope, Julieta never outright said she knew who the help was for, after all. It however wouldn't make her vague words any less cryptic.

Her hearing wandered back to the healer's station, wheels currently squeaking and in motion. The cart pusher was taking her time, casually chatting with a townsperson as if she didn't just offer her sobrina the fright of a lifetime.

It's not as if Tía could possibly know; things were too perfect to lead that way. No one knew about this lie she had to carry for the sake of her Tío, and no one could know. If Julieta truly knew, she would surely give more of an implication, right? Her own triplet brother was just in reach, in pain, and if things were different, she could help him.

If for nothing else, she was grateful the family's aloe supply was in Casita's garden. Out there, hidden from anyone's gaze, maybe she could take a moment to gather and process the guilt…

Maybe it wasn't guilt she was feeling… but she didn't have a word for it. No matter, since those cobbled steps in her near vision told her she was right where she needed to be. Dolores swiftly made her way to the back of the house, not even bothering to enter. She hoped she could slip past, undetected by even the stray family members currently at home. No one else could find out her mission.

Strangely enough, the sight of her prima's prized garden brought a sense of peace into her chest. The simple beauty of the colours and shapes caught her attention, yet could stay a blissful sight in the background. Maybe that's why Abuela asked Isabela to create these flowers in particular as of late…

Even in an assortment of plants so vast and colourful as these, it took her a moment to find the dull green aloe plants. What? It's not as if she spent enough time out here to know.

She knew from hearing her Tía and tallest prima handling these often that it was okay to break off a stem, so she did just that. It took a little effort but she eventually had a rather thick stem for her collection of supplies. It wouldn't be an issue to gather more at a later date, but she hoped it would be enough for him to manage for now.

Dolores took a moment before standing straight again to indulge in the sights and sounds of their garden. Sitting amongst the flowers would be improper and a waste of time, but she had to admit that it was much more peaceful than she remembered from her last visit. She couldn't become distracted by this now, but it might be an effective excuse to sneak off later…

Other than avoiding distractions, she didn't really… know what else to do from here. Should she wrap the plant in something? Probably, if to not get the gel all over the other items she planned to collect. She debated asking someone, but even just asking her aunt was risky enough. If Julieta was holding off to not pursue Dolores' impulsive oversharing, she knew the other Madrigal's more invasive questions to elaborate would break the damn she built up and needed to hold for at least a little longer.

So she simply wouldn't ask anyone; figure it out on her own. Suddenly, that far bench hidden by the shade of a palm tree looked so relaxing. She knew she shouldn't… but she had to. Only for a moment, just to relax her still heightened nerves, indulge in the fresh air and in listening to sweet nothings.

"What's that for?"

Dolores must've tuned out quite a lot to not have noticed her prima approach. She looked far up at the younger girl, fingers absent-mindedly rubbing against the intricate surface of the stem she was holding. It didn't confuse her, the question – obviously about the plant.

What confused her is why she was there. It wasn't odd or even abnormal for any of them to find themselves in the backyard, whether to use the space or relax peacefully. Luisa didn't tend to be one of those people. If only because of how often she is in town helping the people; Luisa is the last person you would think of when it came to the word 'relax'.

So she was here now because…? Dolores couldn't wrack her brain to remember, but it wasn't important. A minute of time with her prima wouldn't do any harm, anyway.

"For a delivery," she answered with a hum after a while, remembering the term she used earlier. She wasn't fond of her 'lie' reaching other people, but this was harmless talk.

Luisa sat on the bench beside her (Dolores already made a mental note to move so the younger girl could take the middle), not saying anything yet, but seeming to ease into her seat. Good, a small break would do the girl well. There was a short beat of silence. "Is it important?"

"Sí, important enough." In a way, she hoped her prima wouldn't talk to Tía anytime soon – because the story she told didn't write the delivery as only 'important enough'. Even if, in reality, it was quite crucial to gather this and those other supplies before the end of the day, for someone who needed at least a little help. So yes, actually, it was important enough.

Not only was Dolores quiet after this (no more than usual), but her words must've sounded like nonsense, even to her prima. "Is that why you're here?"

Maybe Luisa wasn't one for a lot of words, but they spoke enough. Why was she still here? "Sí, I just…" she thought for a moment, looking back at Casita, "Needed a break." She squeaked.

"Oh…" is all she heard, seeming to reach an understanding. Even if her gaze wasn't mutual, she could feel Luisa looking at her, but not with judgment. "Mamá said she thought you looked stressed. Are you okay?"

People tend to underestimate how much of a kind soul the physically strong 13-year-old was. She didn't have to know what someone was going through to show genuine concern, and never felt a reason to intrude and ask further questions. Sometimes it felt like Luisa and the other two young ones were too kind and innocent for the world they were born into, and deep down, she knew some of them still thought things were okay.

So maybe she wasn't okay, but it's something she didn't need to – and couldn't – burden her cousin with right now. "Secret deliveries are quite stressful," she shrugged, her iconic squeak coming out sounding more similar to Tío Bruno's 'hm'.

Luisa shrugged as well. "Tell me about it."

Yeah, she- she probably should. Dolores had to stop herself before running her mouth, remembering at the last millisecond that this was particularly something she couldn't talk about – and that, well, this was probably a rhetorical question on Luisa's end. If it had truly been some random townsperson, this would be the perfect opportunity to finally just talk and talk and talk with someone willing to listen. This wasn't the time, though.

Dolores tried to disguise her sigh as taking in the fresh air around them. It was nice, peaceful out here with only nature and her prima as company… but it couldn't last. Those deliveries weren't going to make themselves.

"I should probably go-" she stopped her motion of standing, wondering if she should leave so abruptly. Looking to the side, her prima, however, didn't seem to mind.

"Oh, right, your important delivery," Luisa only answered, seeming to only remember now (a motion of lightly shaking her fist confirming it). "See ya, Dolores."

Her hands didn't move from where one was resting over her chest, the other holding the aloe, but she nodded. She mumbled an "Adíos," feeling a bit awkward for leaving her prima behind, but still taking the opportunity to do so.

Dolores took her time leaving the garden, revelling in the fact that this would likely be her last moments outside for the rest of the day; maybe unconsciously making sure her cousin wouldn't stop resting right away. The talk was refreshing, and welcomed… but it was time to be serious. If she got through this now, she could return to her regular schedule of gossip quite soon. No more fun for the day, until she completed her main mission.

It amused her, though, the fact that she could hear Luisa only leave the bench once she was out of view. One mission at a time.

It didn't take long to slip into her room and find a safe place to store the aloe plant until later. Yes, a drawer was far from the ideal place for it, but a basket – along with everything else – was still something she had to set out for. Until now, this was the best option.

On a different page in her notepad, Dolores noted down the instructions of use she remembers her Tía giving for the aloe – including the new bandages, which she would most definitely need to find more of. Not addressing the fact that the original instructions felt barren for medical practice, she felt these would be easy enough for Bruno to follow.

Speaking of… she hasn't focused on him since this morning. Dolores made her way to the closest wall for a moment, asking Casita to pause the white noise. It wasn't the most effective method of listening, but it worked well enough.

To her surprise, he was walking again. Or at least trying to. Every pained grunt, soft skid of sandals and impulsive wood-knocking only proved her theory further. Even the way he breathed indicated walking was a difficult feat for him. At least, his moving figure felt lively, muttering something incoherent under his breath about water.

Ah, yes, the pipes. Dolores didn't personally know much of the pipes her Tío managed to arrange, but she's heard enough offhand comments to know where they were roughly located and what they were for. It was his main – if only – access to water. If he was headed there, then at least she knew he was either trying to keep his wound clean, or simply not perish out of thirst.

He would be fine. Even more than fine once he got the package – which she should return to preparing now.

Dolores took no longer to head out of her room, down to Casita's known 'storage room'. It would take a miracle to not be noticed, but the family was still, for the most part, out of the house. They would be until lunch at the very least; a lunch still in its beginning stages of preparation.

Water was being boiled, vegetables were being chopped – if she was quick, she could gather the last of the supplies before lunch.

So that's what she did. The superhearing girl snuck past the stairwell as best as she could, making it to a section of the house that was rarely visited. If no one was looking for her, she doubted that anyone would accidentally find her here – but she still needed to be careful.

It was almost amusing to think that the place had basically become nonexistent to the family. She wouldn't be surprised if this was the room Tío was always getting into when the entire family would be gone for multiple hours. It had the hidden aspect and tons of items ready for his use.

The place had a purpose, even if they all let it pass their mind. The room itself, however? Well…

Casita's storage room was certainly a room. Within the 44 years of its lifespan, the room has easily become a cluttered mess of all the items forgotten or worn out that no one seemed to want to get rid of but didn't want around the house either. So, that meant that if anyone wanted to, let's say, sneak an item away for purposes that couldn't be described to the family? Then it was easy to do so.

Easy was a stretch, but it could be managed. She honestly doubted that most of these items would be missed if they disappeared mysteriously; the whole room was one most of the Madrigals rarely spared a passing thought.

The room itself was so dusty, not unlike the inner walls if Bruno's heaving meant anything. It was nothing she couldn't handle but for a section of the house that was still under Casita's control, there was enough clutter here to give Abuela a heart attac-

Wait. Casita could communicate in this room. Maybe she didn't need to be here long after all.

"Castia?" she asked, dust rising and settling with each hesitant step. She pulled on a ceiling-mounted string to turn on the light, closing the door behind her. The light ultimately didn't do many favours for the room's appearance, but some light was better than nothing.

The house, eventually, flipped a few of its floorboards in response. It was hard to tell since there was just so much stuff on the floor, but it made an effort to communicate.

"Is there a basket or something you can help me find?"

It was quite a vague question; it's not like the house knew what 'or something' meant, but it usually knew how to help people. Even if they were being vague.

Casita, however, decided to 'help' her in a different way. She watched the floor, annoyed, as its boards decided to push her around the small room. It didn't take a house reader to understand this meant find it yourself. It was a miracle that Mirabel was able to get this house to do anything for her.

It was rare for her to ask anything of the house, anyways. If it didn't involve her own room, Dolores didn't feel the need to; now it didn't seem all that odd that the house had her look for her own things. Maybe it just needed to warm up to her? Or maybe… pity her?

She sighed, defeated, head remaining cast downwards. Yeah, she could look a little longer, but she had an idea of how to get the house to help her if still needed.

With that, Dolores held onto her skirt with one hand, scavenging the area with the other. She was cautious not to trip on all the endless piles of stuff that littered nearly every inch of the floor, cursing silently every time something caught on her shoe. The last thing she needed right now was to trip and fall in a dusty, likely unsafe corridor with no one around to help her; to end up like her uncle.

A lot of this searching felt like looking through the collective pile of laundry and knick-knacks for that last thing needed for an obscure project. Which… wasn't far off. With the addition of desire not to be found, looking for something that she's never seen, and a relatively fast approaching timer, it wouldn't be an unfair description.

She moved and re-placed multiple piles of cloth and boxes before she eventually heard a few people enter the house. Again, she had likely no worry about anyone finding her here, like this – but she was running out of time.

Frustrated, she tossed what she remembered as Isabela's old toddler dress back into a pile. She didn't have time for this, any of this. Now she could use that alternate option. "Please, Casita, I need help…" she didn't want to acknowledge the way her voice wavered, sounding on the brink of tears. She was just tired, that's all. "It's for… him."

Everything seemed to stop, settle at the soft sound of her request. Whether or not the house paid attention to their meetings (it never intervened), it easily knew who she was talking about. There was only one person who could possibly drag her down to this room in the first place.

There was silence for a moment, but to her relief, Casita complied. A few piles of items moved to the side, making a gap that was big enough to actually walk through. Huh, who would've thought that was possible? The cherry on top was the few objects moving to point as if asking her to move forward. Maybe this was as fun as Mirabel made it out to be.

She followed the house's suggestion (before it could push her again), revealing the perfect find in no time. It was a decently sized picnic basket. Yes, it was worn and broken in some places, but it should be more than useful for what she needed it for.

A whispered 'gracias Casita' is all she could make out before grabbing the basket and leaving the room. What, she wouldn't stay here any longer if she didn't have to.

Before closing the door, she grabbed a stray, old blanket from on top of a pile passing by. It wasn't the best option by far, but it wasn't unclean; just unwanted. It was going to a better home now.

Dolores took a deep breath once she closed the door, careful not to have it make noise. Oh, how thankful she was to be in contact with clean air again. However, not thankful to be exposed with her secret findings out in the open halls. If anyone were to walk by now, she's not sure she could come up with an explanation.

Farther than 'a delivery', she honestly had no real way to explain what was happening. Other than the truth… but yeah, no real way. If today could just pass without one more person getting wrapped into her lie, she would be happier than any warm herbal tea could ever make her.

She checked her findings one last time to make sure it was what she needed. Basket? Check. Blanket? Check. She still needed two other items to complete the list, but it was nothing that the dusty, crowded, soon-to-be-forgotten oversized closet could offer her.

Before she could risk getting caught any longer, Dolores took her prizes and swiftly left the scene.

As she ascended a lesser-used staircase, she had to mentally prepare herself for the next step of the process. If anything, it was the one step she was most nervous to mess up. This next step could either make or break the entire purpose of this gift… but it would be worth it. She had to do this.

Until then, these items needed to go to her room – preferably before anyone found her with them. She could hide them better, after attending lunch. Yes, she could eat now and worry about this whole package deal later. It could wait now.