Episode Four: Surface Pressure
10 years ago...
Luisa could hear crying from somewhere in the Casita, and it made her blood run cold. It was not the heartbroken sob of a young girl who had been promised something wonderous only to have it snatched away before a crowd of confused on-lookers. Nor did it sound like the sorrowful tears of a parent feeling powerless to help their child through the grief. No, it was the gut-wrenching wail of someone who had learnt of devastating news. The cry of intense pain that felt like a clawed hand was tearing into their chest and ripping at their heart, as they realised their life would never be the same. It was the unmistakable, anguished cry of loss. Luisa had never heard such crying before, but she instantly recognised the intensity of the pain. Fearing that one of her family was in trouble, she hurried purposely from her room, ready to help in any way she could.
"Left?" she heard Tía Pepa's voice from the floor below. "That coward? Oh come on, he won't last a day out there. Trust me, if I know our brother... and I do... he'll be back inside the Casita before the week is out."
"You didn't see his face. If you'd seen him, you'd know. He has no intention of returning," Luisa's mom replied through sobs. "You know how it works, Pepa. How many people have ever left the Encanto and returned? Even if he does change his mind, he'll never find his way home."
They seemed to be by the front door, so Luisa walked around to the stairs leading to the foyer.
"What's going on? Why's Mamá crying?" she asked when she reached the landing. She saw her mom slumped on the floor, and Tía Pepa sat beside her, comforting her.
"Luisa, darling. Go back to bed," her mom said, trying to mask her tears.
"Did something happen to Tío Bruno?" Luisa asked.
"Please, back to bed.. we can talk about this in the morning," her mom ordered again, this time more firmly.
Luisa did as asked and made her way back up to the second floor. Abuela came out of her room as she passed but said nothing. She just hurried down the stairs toward Luisa's mom and aunt.
"Has something happened? The candle... I saw it dim again," she cried, her voice cracking.
When Luisa reached her door, she opened it and immediately closed it again, loud enough that she thought her mom would hear and assume she had entered. She then tiptoed along the balcony and crouched by the railings to better hear the conversation below.
"He's left?" Abuela gasped angrily. "Then he's betrayed his family. That wretched man couldn't even help us when we needed him most. He would rather leave than have just one vision..."
"Mamá, he said he had the vision," Luisa's mom insisted.
"And you believed him?" snapped Abuela. "I know you always saw the best in him, Julieta, but trust me, it wasn't always there."
"He was telling the truth!"
"So tell me, where is this vision he claims to have had?"
"He said he destroyed it."
"Oh, he did, did he? How convenient."
Tía Pepa interjected, "It does seem a bit suspicious that there's no evidence of it."
Footsteps then approached the stairs, "I don't ever want to hear his name again. Do you understand? From this day on, I only have two children," hissed Abuela before marching up the stairs. Luisa hurried back to her room, trying to close the door as quietly as possible.
.
The following morning...
Luisa struggled to sleep after overhearing the conversation. She wondered how much truth had been in what they were saying. Had her uncle really left for good? Did he really have a vision before he left, and if so, what could be so bad that it would cause him to leave the safety of the Encanto?
Luisa woke later than usual, having had an hour or two of broken sleep. She quickly got dressed and left her room, stepping onto the balcony and then turning towards Bruno's tower. As she approached the back stairs, something compelled her to look up the steps to the tower, and it caught her breath. She saw something she had never seen before. The magical light from Tío Bruno's door had gone out. His image remained etched into the wood, but it was otherwise just a regular, wooden door. She had always known that the doors would suddenly appear when the time was right. She had now learnt they could just as suddenly vanish, thanks to the previous night's disastrous gift ceremony. She would never have guessed that the magic could disappear from the doors altogether, though. The magic she had always believed was strong and dependable had begun to feel fragile, and that frightened Luisa. Weakness had always frightened her.
She hurried to Dolores's room. If anyone had heard what happened the night before, it would be her cousin. She knocked on the door, harder than intended, and Dolores answered in her nightdress. Her hair, which she always wore in a high puff adorned with a thick red bow, was down and stuck out in all directions as though trying to gather itself back into the puff.
"Can I come in?" Luisa asked immediately, keeping her voice down.
"Of course... what's wrong?"
Luisa entered the room, and Dolores closed the door behind them.
"Did ya hear anything last night?" she asked hurriedly.
"At the gift ceremony?"
"No.. after that. Through the night. Did you hear what happened with Tío Bruno?"
Her question seemed to alarm Dolores.
"Tío Bruno? No, I must have been asleep. What's wrong?"
"I dunno. I just heard our mamás talking to Abuela. They said something about a vision and him leaving the Encanto. Then when I came out my room just now, and turned towards the tower... The light's like, totally gone from his door. It's like, the magic isn't there anymore or something."
Dolores's eyes went wide, and she seemed to hold her breath. She cocked her head as though listening for something. From her expression, whatever she could hear was not good news.
"He is gone," she confirmed.
"How do you know?"
"I can hear sand."
Luisa had no idea what that meant, but she trusted that Dolores knew what she was talking about. Besides her mom, Dolores had been the only family member to ever really speak to their uncle. Luisa hoped that her knowledge of him might help clear up the other thing the adults had discussed.
"They also talked about him having a vision," she explained. "My Mamá seemed to think it was true, but yours and Abuela thought he'd made it up. What do you think? Would he lie about something like that?"
"No, he wouldn't," Dolores answered immediately, speaking quickly in a low whisper. "I always thought he stayed in his tower to avoid the family. That was the story we were told, right? But do you know what he was doing up there? That whole time? Just waiting. Waiting to be needed. Waiting to feel useful." She paused to take a breath, letting it out with a heavy sigh, then continued more slowly, "So no. I don't think he would have refused. I think he would have done anything asked of him. And if he's left, there must be a good reason. He must've seen something in that vision that made him leave."
.
Later that day...
The mountains that encased the Encanto fell sharply into the foothills, which then drifted lazily down towards the town in a vast patchwork of mounds. It was throughout these gentle hills that the community grew the food on which they relied. Their location in the mountains afforded them a relatively stable climate, as they cycled between 'warm and rainy', and 'warm and not quite so rainy'. There had not been a true dry season since long before Luisa's time. Of course, the Encanto was not entirely without seasonality, but thanks to Tía Pepa's gift, they could grow seasonal crops all year round. Being cut off from the outside world meant they needed to be completely self-sufficient, so having a constant supply of food was one of their many blessings.
The farmers were busily sewing crops ready to take advantage of the approaching rainy season. Planting was not the most physically demanding task, however, so other than helping to till the soil, Luisa tended to have a little less to do on the farms at that time of year. This year, however, one of the farmers had the idea of building a dam over part of the river, to create a flooded area and make growing rice less demanding on Tía Pepa.
Luisa had spent the morning helping to transport large quantities of wood and stone down to the river. She placed down the last few stones and then headed to the farmhouse to collect some rice and sweet potatoes. The farmers had offered them as thanks for her and Tía Pepa's tireless dedication. Of course, the job of carrying them home fell on Luisa. As she approached the building, she could hear laughter from the kitchen window.
"Hahaha.. how the mighty fall, right?"
"Yeah, yeah. It was shocking. Nobody 'spected that!"
"Whaddya think caused it? D'ya think there's something wrong wi' the li'l girl?"
"Dunno. There was something wrong with her uncle though, so maybe."
"Yeah.. better she got no gift than his right? The last thing we need is another Bruno."
"Right! Did ya see him yesterday? Just as creepy as ever. Hardly said a word to anyone all night... Just staring into space like he were plottin' something..."
"Just as well if ya ask me. The less he says the better! Hahaha."
"True enough. Though I reckon it's not just him. There's something sinister in that family. I mean like bad blood... or... well let's just say not all magic comes from a good place... Who knows what they really do to get their so-called gifts..."
Luisa was horrified. She had always thought that the inhabitants of the Encanto loved and admired her family. She recalled the devastated face of her little sister from the night before. That terrible moment when the cruel reality of the world came crumbling down on the one person who, more than any other, Luisa felt duty bound to protect.
In the stillness, trembling with rage, she felt her skirt tickle against her ankles as it billowed in the breeze. Wind rarely entered the Encanto naturally. By the time it reached the mountains, it would slow down so much that it ran out of momentum. She glanced over to the Casita in the distance. A merry-go-round of dark clouds encircled the roof, pushed along by a mini tornado. The family might have been putting on a brave face, but they could not hide the fact that they were worried.
She entertained the urge to smash the door and tell them what she thought of them, but her loyalty to her family won out. She just wanted to get home and comfort Mirabel. To protect her from the brutality of the cruel reality to which she had innocently fallen victim. A reality that Luisa was only just discovering herself. She snatched a sack of rice and a basket of sweet potatoes from the store to the front of the farmhouse. Luisa always asked first before taking anything, even if it had already been freely given. She did not feel like extending such courtesy, though. They did not deserve it. Throwing the sack onto her shoulder and gripping the basket, she set off towards the town without a word.
Luisa had only travelled a short distance through the town when she suddenly felt something strike the back of her head. She turned and saw three older children laughing maliciously; two boys and a girl, all around the same age as her older sister.
"Whaddya do that for?" Luisa asked angrily.
"Do what? We didn't do anything," sneered one of the boys.
"Sure ya did. You threw something at me," insisted Luisa.
The boy did not reply. Instead, the girl asked, "So, what's wrong with your sister anyway? Why didn't she get a gift?"
"Nothing's wrong with her!"
"My Papá says..." began the other, taller boy. "That the miracle is dying. He says the magic will run out one day, and you'll all lose your gifts."
"That's not possible!" insisted Luisa. She could feel her cheeks burning, and her hand clenched so tightly around the rice that her fingers were starting to punch holes through the sack.
"And my Abuela says your uncle's really a witch," said the shorter boy. "Everyone knows it, but they're too scared to say so in case he puts a curse on them. Oh? Maybe he put a curse on your sister?"
"I heard the whole family are witches!" jeered the girl.
Luisa could feel the rage building, like a geyser about to blow. Nevertheless, she chose to ignore the children and continue heading back to her family. A stone flew past her, only just missing her cheek. She watched it chip as it struck the ground and skipped a little along the path. Still, she did not react. Then another stone came, this time hitting her on the shoulder.
That was it. As though no longer in control of her body, Luisa slammed down the sack of rice with a dull thud. The street around her seemed to fade from view until only she and the children existed in the world. At the mercy of some unseen puppeteer, she raised the basket of sweet potatoes. Then, with a mighty swing, she hurled it in the direction of the children. The basket smashed into the taller boy with so much force that he was launched backwards, hitting the ground with a sickening crack. Potatoes tumbled out, scattering around him as the other children screamed, and several townspeople ran to help.
Luisa, now back in her body, stood stunned, before quickly realising what she had done. Her heart raced as she grabbed the sack. 'He'll be alright, he'll be alright', she told herself as she began to hurry home, leaving the potatoes at the scene. When she was a short distance away, she heard someone shouting, "Has anyone got a horse? We need to fetch Julieta right away!" The boy was not alright.
When she neared the house, a cantering rhythm of hooves came drumming against the stone of the road behind her. The rider passed without a word, and the chestnut horse slowed when it reached the cobble leading to the Casita. Her mom rushed towards the rider as he approached. Luisa's dad and Dolores looked on from just inside the front door.
"What did you do?" her mom called out when Luisa was close enough.
"I..." she could not think fast enough to answer.
"We'll talk about this when I get back," her mom replied as the man helped her onto the horse.
The horse trotted back along the path then broke into a canter as it hit the road.
"Thanks for telling on me," Luisa snapped as she entered the Casita.
"It's Dolores's job to tell the family what she hears," her dad replied firmly.
"And I suppose you've told Abuela too, have you?"
"No, she doesn't know yet. I just told your parents," Dolores replied, then added, "I was trying to do the right thing, Luisa."
Luisa felt her dad's hand on her shoulder as he bent closer to her height. It was not difficult. She was pretty tall for a nine-year-old. "Abuela will need to know about this, but leave it to your Mamá and me."
Her dad then suggested they sit at a small round table beside the front stairs while they continued to talk. It was just about as far from Abuela's room as possible without leaving the building.
"It happened so fast," Luisa explained quietly. "People have been saying such horrible things about the family since the gift ceremony."
Dolores piped in. "They've been saying those things for much longer than that," she explained. "It's just gotten worse."
"They've always thought we were witches?" Luisa asked, shocked.
"Not exactly. They mostly just say that about..." She paused and looked at Luisa's dad as though checking she had permission to mention him, "...our uncle," she settled on to avoid saying his name. "I dread to think what they'll say when they find out he's gone."
"Which is why we must act like nothing's changed," Luisa's dad warned. "We can't let anything be overheard."
"I'm in so much trouble, aren't I?" Luisa said, trying not to cry.
Her dad did his best to give her a reassuring smile, though it came out lopsided and awkward. "It's nothing we can't fix, but it might take some time," he said, almost convincingly.
.
A little later...
Luisa's mom returned home and reported that the boy was okay. His nose had been broken, and his head hit the floor hard enough to crack and bleed, but it was nothing her mom could not deal with. A part of Luisa found it ironic that the boy had only just been insulting her family and yet was probably already back to running around and picking on younger kids thanks to one of their gifts. She doubted he would have learnt anything from the experience, though.
Her mom had brought the basket of sweet potatoes home with her, so Luisa put them away in the kitchen while her parents were upstairs, talking to Abuela. She wished she had Dolores's gift. At least then, she would be prewarned of just how much trouble she was in.
A door opened, and Luisa heard footsteps descending the back stairs. It was time to face her grandmother. Luisa arrived in the courtyard just as Abuela, and her parents reached the fountain. Her mom wore an expression of concern mixed with sadness, but Abuela's face was contorted with anger. Luisa hung her head and braced herself for what was to come.
"Have you any idea the damage you have caused?" Abuela barked.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to... I was trying not to... but then..."
Abuela held up her palm to stop Luisa from speaking, "I don't want to hear your excuses. You have shown everyone how weak you really are today."
Those words packed a devastating blow. Even before she had received her gift, Luisa had never been called 'weak'. It was a dreadful, hateful word, especially from the mouth of Abuela. The worst part was that it was true. Before she threw the basket, she had indeed felt powerless, scared, and, yes, weak. She wanted to cry, but she knew that tears would only make her appear weaker still, so she choked them back. Then, with a deep, steadying breath, she said, as confidently as possible, "I will do better from now on Abuela. I promise. This won't happen again. I will become stronger, and I will make the family proud."
That seemed to have a positive effect, and Abuela's expression softened slightly.
"You see that you do," she said firmly. "We have seen what happens when members of this family offend the miracle. I would hate to see your room start to change because of this..."
"That had nothing to do with anyone offending the miracle, Mamá," her mom said somewhat defensively.
Abuela flashed her eyes, "I suggest you stop speaking right now Julieta. I thought I'd made myself clear on that topic."
Luisa wished they could have continued that discussion. Rooms changing? The miracle being offended? That sounded like something Luisa needed to know. Abuela had made it quite clear that it was not a conversation to be continued, but it got Luisa wondering if something similar had happened before. She decided to try and ask, being careful to keep it indirect.
"So... is this the first time anyone's been hurt by our gifts?"
"Yes it is!" Abuela answered decisively.
Her mom did not look so convinced. "That's not strictly true though, is it?" she said, this time directly confronting Abuela. Luisa had never seen her usually passive mom like that. "Have you forgotten the time one of our gifts got a man so badly beaten he almost died?" Abuela looked furious at being reminded of the event, but Luisa's mom continued. "Then how about the time several people were hurt by hailstones the size of rocks falling from the sky? I might have been too if it hadn't been for..." She finally stopped herself and instead turned to Luisa. "So no, this is not the first time something like this has happened. Our gifts are powerful, and there's always a risk of them causing harm instead of good. It's for us to do our best to prevent it."
"You need to do more than your best," Abuela said firmly. "There is no room for mistakes when it comes to your gifts. We can not slip up, and we certainly can't hurt anyone. You have done unthinkable damage to this family today, Luisa. As if we weren't hurt enough right now."
Luisa was heartbroken. To hear that she had not only disappointed Abuela, but had also harmed the family, was the worse pain of her young life. She did not have time to reply, however, because another voice joined the conversation.
"It's because of me, isn't it? That the family's hurt?" Mirabel sniffed from the bottom step. Her eyes were bloodshot, and she seemed weary and listless, as though all the colour and energy had been drained from her.
Luisa felt hopeless. She desperately wanted to protect Mirabel, to make everything okay. That was what big sisters were for, after all. But this was not something she, or anyone, could help with. What she could do, however, was shield her from the rumours and protect her from the truth. She could ensure that Mirabel continued to live in a world where the Madrigals were loved by all. A world where every day was a wondrous adventure in a magical house with an incredible family. That's all Mirabel would ever need to know.
xxx
Present day...
For a fleeting second when Luisa opened her eyes, the light from her door had gone. She sat up with a start and looked straight at it. It appeared exactly as it always did, the light glowing as it seemed to flow around the image, contrasting brightly against the shimmering background. Luisa continued to contemplate the door. Had the light really been out, or was it just her nightmares spilling into waking consciousness?
The sudden chime of an alarm clock snapped her abruptly from her thoughts, as her bed rocked and shook. The Casita always knew whose turn it was to set up for breakfast and dutifully ensured they were up in time. Luisa rarely needed the house to wake her. She would usually wake an hour or more before the rest of the family. That ensured she had time to work out before the bustle of the day began, and the never-ending list of chores and requests came flooding in.
She did not have to work out. Her gift gave her all the strength she needed. Yet the grandchildren all shared a nagging feeling that simply receiving a gift because of the family they were born into was not enough. There was a compelling drive to prove they had talents beyond their gifts. That they had somehow earned it and were willing to put in the effort to maintain it. For her older sister, Isabela, this had meant learning dance and acrobatics, developing her poise and grace, so she could appear just as effortlessly perfect as the delicate blooms she created. Her cousin Camilo, had taught himself to do stunts and honed his acting skills so that he could use his gift to amuse and entertain the townspeople when he was not helping them in more practical ways.
Luisa felt that pressure more than anyone else in the family. In her case, proving herself meant waking up early and working out. It meant not only being strong but looking strong. It meant being the kind of towering figure that nobody would dare throw stones at or call names. It meant taking out her frustration on a punching bag so that she would always keep her composure and never again snap. And it also meant always appearing eager to help, never turning down a request no matter how obscure or how much easier it would be for the person to do it themselves. The requests were endless, though, and even when the rest of the family was unwinding after a busy day, there would still be jobs for Luisa. The closest she got to relaxation was daydreaming while she worked, when she would drift off to a magical land of pink fluffy clouds.
The door had unnerved Luisa. She had been having a recurring nightmare for many years, in which she would return to her room and find that the light had gone out from her door just as it had from her uncle's—that dreadful door that taunted her menacingly from the top of the drab, green staircase every time she passed it. She tried not to look, but just being near it was enough to remind her that the magical light could go out. That one's place in the family was not guaranteed. It made the magic feel fragile, and that terrified her. She would be nothing without her gift.
No matter how large her body became, Luisa felt unseen, especially by Abuela. She kept holding onto the hope that she could do something to get back in her good graces, but it seemed that no matter how hard she worked or how eager she showed herself to be, she had faded, just like the light from that door. All Luisa was to Abuela was her gift. The person behind the gift, her true self, had become entirely invisible. Her uncle's door ensured she never forgot that as she went about her daily life, and her nightmares made sure she remembered while she slept.
Mirabel's outburst at the gift ceremony had struck fear in Luisa. If what she claimed to have seen was true, if the miracle was in danger, they could all lose their gifts. The rest of the family would manage just fine. They were not invisible. They would not be worthless without their gifts. When Mirabel spoke about the cracks, Luisa had felt something terrible, just for a brief moment, but the horror of it had kept her up for most of the night.
When Luisa arrived in the kitchen, Abuela was already up and had brewed several pots of coffee. Luckily, she was in too good a mood to complain about Luisa's lateness and simply explained that the family was to eat together on the patio. So Luisa got straight to work setting up the buffet table outside.
Soon the whole family had gathered on the patio to eat. They piled their plates and then assembled at the table. Mirabel sat beside Luisa as Abuela started to address the family.
"Luisa, Dolores says you're totally freaking out..," her sister began, quietly talking over Abuela. "...any chance you maybe know something about last night? With the magic?" Mirabel suddenly thumped the table excitedly. "You do!" she yelled, pointing at Luisa's face as though noticing something.
Luisa had a bad feeling about where this was going, but Mirabel had drawn attention to herself, annoying Abuela. The Casita promptly moved Mirabel's chair, with her still in it, and placed it next to Abuela. Relieved, Luisa tried to keep her head down and get through her breakfast as quickly as possible. Abuela continued to address the family. While she was clearly thrilled that Antonio got his gift, she seemed more anxious than ever to appease the miracle. She instructed everyone to work twice as hard to prove they were not taking the miracle for granted. Mirabel hurriedly announced that she would help Luisa, despite Luisa never needing help and certainly not requesting it. Before Luisa could protest, Abuela said that she had an announcement to make.
"I've spoken to the Guzmáns about Mariano's proposal to Isabela," she declared proudly. "Dolores, do we have a date?"
Dolores pretended to listen but had most likely already heard the information. "Tonight," she replied, then added, "he wants five babies," with a sideways glance at Isabella.
"Wonderful, such a fine young man with our perfect Isabela will bring a new generation of magical blessings and make both of our families stronger," Abuela beamed. Then addressing the whole family, she said, "Okay, our community is counting on us. La Familia Madrigal!"
The family repeated 'La Familia Madrigal', and Luisa took her chance to sneak off. She was unsure how she could 'work twice as hard', but she was determined to do as Abuela had asked.
.
The requests for help started rolling in the second Luisa reached the town. She often wondered if people lay in bed late at night desperately thinking of things they could get done by Luisa for neither thanks nor payment. Did they then leap out of bed excitedly at the prospect the following morning? Would they wait by their windows until they saw her approach, then walk casually through the front door pretending it was a fortuitous coincidence that they crossed paths? It certainly seemed that way. She got straight on with moving the church a little to the right; by no means the first time she had moved it, and unlikely the last. Then Señor Rendon, one of the men that ran the donkey rental service, came by to tell her the donkeys had escaped again.
There were three barns at equal distance around the outskirts of town, with a block of stalls at the centre, near the main plaza. People would borrow a donkey from one barn and then leave it at the nearest barn or in the stalls at the end of their journey. It was a very convenient service that meant most families did not need a donkey of their own. They even had a few horses for anyone wishing to make a longer journey or needing to travel faster. Unfortunately, the donkeys had learnt to reach over and slide the latch on the gate of one of the barns. It was a problem easily fixed with a padlock or by moving the latch lower down the gate, but why waste the ten minutes that would take when you had Luisa to round them up every morning?
"Luisa, wait a second..." came a familiar voice as Luisa picked up a donkey and piled it onto the three she was already carrying. Mirabel had evidentially followed her into town. Luisa chose to ignore her and carried on towards the rest of the escaped donkeys, but Mirabel continued following. "You gotta tell me about the magic. What's going on? What are you hiding?"
"Nothing. I've just got a lotta chores, so maybe you should just go home."
"Dolores said your eye was twitching, and it never twitches. Something's making you nervous..." Mirabel got in front and was now walking backwards in Luisa's path. She would not give up, but this was neither the time nor the place.
"Hey move, you're gonna make me drop a donkey," said Luisa, speeding up so that Mirabel fell behind once more.
"Luisa! Will you just tell me what it is?"
"There's nothing to tell," she lied. She had theories about what might be happening with the magic, patched together from what little information she had gleaned over the years. It was all speculation, and she needed for it not to be true. The nightmares were so real, though. Sometimes it felt like the miracle was trying to communicate with the family, but no one was willing to listen, and so it was getting louder.
"You're obviously worried about something." Mirabel continued. "Luisa, if you know what's hurting the magic and it gets worse 'cause you won't tell me what's wrong..."
That was the last straw. Luisa had done her best to keep everyone happy. To be the backbone of the family, hidden behind its perfect front, and yet the very reason it could stand up firm. She had been the anchor, unseen below the surface yet keeping the family steady in stormy weather. The very suggestion that she could in any way be responsible for harming the magic was too much. She felt that dreadful puppeteer begin tugging at her strings, and she could not hold back the emotions she had been suppressing for years. She spun around to face her sister, getting right in her face.
"NOTHING'S WRONG!"
Mirabel froze in shock, and Luisa instantly regretted yelling. Frantic to minimise any potential damage, she quickly apologised and dusted her sister down.
"What I meant was... Why would anything be wrong?" she explained, doing her best to mask her feelings. "I'm totally fine. The magic's fine. Luisa's fine. I'm totally not nervous." She felt her eye twitch, and Mirabel noticed immediately.
"You're eye is... doing the thing..."
"I'm not nervous. It's just that..." Luisa hesitated, unsure if she should open up. There had been a time when she was desperate for answers too. She had wanted someone to put everything into context for her and, ideally, to explain that everything was fine. Yet from the very next morning following the failed door ceremony, the family refused to speak about what really happened that night. Eventually, Luisa had decided to let it go for the family's sake, but especially to protect Mirabel.
Now it was Mirabel's turn to need answers, and Luisa was conflicted. She could not let her emotional outburst be the last thing that lingered in her little sister's mind, though, so she had to give her something.
Luisa's chest began to tighten and the air felt viscous against her tongue before sliding forcefully towards her lungs. It brought her no relief. She gulped at the air once more. Again, it carried little oxygen, so she continued to suck in air.
Mirabel noticed her sister was struggling, so she threw her arms around her, taking her by surprise. "I think you're carrying way too much," she said as Luisa returned the hug, maybe a little harder than she had intended. It felt nice to be seen for a change.
"There is something you should know," Luisa finally said. "Last night, when you saw the cracks? I felt... weak."
"What?!" Mirabel asked as Señor Rendon called out impatiently about the donkeys. Luisa started collecting them up again. "What do you mean? What do you think's hurting the magic?"
"I don't know. But I heard the grown-ups once... before Tio Bruno left, he had some terrible vision about it."
"Tio Bruno? What was in his vision?"
"No one knows. They never found it. But if something's wrong with the magic, start with Bruno's tower. Find that vision."
"Wait, how do you 'find' a vision? What am I even looking for?" Mirabel asked, confused.
"If you find it, you'll know." Luisa was not sure if that was true. Still, she had heard from Isabela that a physical representation would be left behind after Bruno had a vision, so that was her best guess. Beginning to wonder if she should have told Mirabel any of this, Luisa added, "But be careful... that place is off limits for a reason," then continued to round up the donkeys.
