A/N: Bruno struggles with his gift. Alejandro struggles with how to help him with it, and finds that maybe he's not the one who's meant to help him with it at all. Maybe he's meant to use his Influence for something a little less flashy, but just as important.

I apologize for the delay in this chapter. Originally this was meant to go up on Oct 20 for 'prophecy', but - real life has me entirely frazzled right now. But hey! With a few minor tweaks, this chapter kinda works better with the 'gift' prompt than it did with 'prophecy' anyway, so it all works out in the end. Even if I did post it here a few days after the actual 'gift' prompt. Lol. It's...very long.

Chapter 8: They Had Lights Inside Their Eyes

Encantober Prompt Day 22: Gift

While many people slowly leave wonder, magic, and belief in miracles behind as they age, for the people of the Encanto, magic and miracles were a part of their everyday life.

Growing up and living in a magically protected village led by a family gifted with magical powers lent itself pretty strongly to embracing and celebrating the miraculous. Still, repetition can breed monotony, and when faced with the miraculous every day, some of those in the village became immune to the wonder of it all. They took the Madrigals and all their fantastical powers for granted - not in the sense that they were ungrateful (though that was true of some); they simply got used to - and sometimes even annoyed by - things that most people outside of the village would be filled with awe to see.

But while some of the people in the village around him may have begun taking the miracles occurring around them every day for granted, Alejandro never did. He had always been a man of faith, a man of hope, and a man who believed, whole-heartedly, in miracles. Alejandro never lost the wonder that filled him as a child - seeing Pepa storm, witnessing Bruno predict the future, watching Julieta heal the nastiest of wounds and illnesses with a bite of her food.

He'd attempted to capture that magic, that wonder, and that joy in his artwork - the miracle of the Madrigal magic, of course, but more than that: In Lucía , he saw the miracle of love and imagination; in Josefina - the miracle of joy and new life; in the world all around them - the miracle of a glass of cold juice on a hot afternoon, the miracle of a warm blanket and a soft place to rest when tired; the miracle of nature and a new day, each one with its own secrets and adventures.

But somewhere along the way he'd just - got a little caught up in making himself a miracle in the eyes of others, and his resultant death had temporarily put a damper on his ability to see and appreciate the miraculous around him.

That wasn't a problem anymore.

Being granted the gift of divine Influence by Mercy allowed Alejandro to step back and gain a new perspective on his death and afterlife. And after both his family and the Madrigals began to heal, and after he chose to accept and be grateful for Lucía and Bruno's friendship, he began to enjoy watching them together. He enjoyed watching all the Madrigals interact with Lucía and Josefina and with each other.

He smiled at the way Isabela, Luisa, and Mirabel became so much closer, laughing and teasing and occasionally being as rowdy as the nieces and nephews Alejandro had left behind in Sofia and Lorenzo's children. He laughed as Camilo snarked to his tio over breakfast. He marveled at the tender, reassuring touches Alma gave her triplets. He felt the joy of witnessing the young, vibrant love of Dolores and Mariano. He was warmed by the whispered jokes and innocent secrets Antonio and Josefina shared in the fort they'd made from blankets and pillows in the living room. With bittersweet appreciation, he watched Julieta and Agustín and Pepa and Félix, and the time they took, now, in the evening - time to rest and observe their children and share loving looks and kisses without worrying what tasks the next day would bring.

They all still had healing left to do, but they'd come so far and made such a beautiful effort so far. Every day was a gift.

And now, the new Casa Madrigal was complete, and Alejandro watched with pride as the family handed Mirabel the new doorknob.

His smile and contentment in observing the family was replaced by complete and utter awe as Mirabel placed the doorknob in its place and the miracle returned.

Swirls of light danced across the doorframe and scattered into orbs that billowed out like pollen in the wind before engulfing the house. When it had reached the tallest point, the light burst out in a golden corona that moved through all those present, including Alejandro himself, before spreading out further into the town and jungle. It left behind a glowing image of the entire Madrigal family carved on the door. It warmed him and made him want to weep with the sudden sense of beauty and love and rightness that filled him.

The feeling was only intensified when he saw Mirabel wave to the house -

…and Casita waved back.

He felt like he was witnessing the resurrection of an old friend, and he briefly wondered if this was what Mary and Martha felt as they witnessed their brother return from the dead.

He watched as Casita drew all the living into her warm embrace, pulling them in with her tiles and dancing with joy, life coursing through her wood and tiles and plaster once again. He simply floated there, incandescent with shock and happiness, when he noticed a shutter on the second floor waving insistently in his direction, as though beckoning someone closer. He looked around, but there was no one beside him at the moment.

Could it be…?

"Casita?" He whispered in disbelief. Did she really remember him ? Was it really her ?

The shutter flew open, like arms expecting a hug, and - unable to speak from the sheer emotion choking him - Alejandro flew to her.

He flew in and out of her windows and walls, running his hands over and through her banisters, her tile floors, her stucco walls, and she ruffled and preened in response, almost like a cat. "You're back! Oh, my friend, I've missed our talks! I have so much to tell you; so much to share with you about your family, and mine! They are - wonderful! They are beautiful! They are helping each other heal, Casita, and you're here, again, and you can see for yourself! Look at them, mi amiga. Just look!"

He laughed out loud, utterly delighted, as he watched Pepa hail as she and Félix danced, as he watched Antonio guide the donkeys to dump Luisa in a hammock, as he watched Isabela bloom cacti and succulents all around her, as Camilo shifted through the crowd, dancing and laughing - and as Casita squished the entire family together for a candid photo shoot.

"Nice one," he muttered to Casita, giving her the ghostly equivalent of a high five, which went about as well as he could have expected. (Meaning, his hand went right through her upturned tile.) Casita ruffled some roof tiles in amusement, mimicking laughter.

Alejandro listened with quiet joy as Dolores explained to Bruno that her gift had returned, but that it was - different. Better. Less like a constant barrage of noise and more like a power she could actually control. Everyone was happy, everyone was celebrating - except Bruno.

Some of the joy and wonder coursing through Alejandro sombered a bit as he saw the man hiding in the shadows of an alcove. He floated down beside him, and the two of them observed the party going on around them, silent and solemn.

They still had healing left to do.

The Miracle had returned, and with it, the gifts - but Bruno was obviously terrified. His family checked on him in intervals, reassuring him, and he waved them off, promising that he was fine, that he was great, that he was happy for the family. He encouraged them to celebrate and yet - he couldn't bring himself to join in the celebration himself.

Alejandro crossed his arms, floating towards the nearest window and muttering to Casita.

"He got his gift back?"

A familiar flutter that meant yes.

"They all got their gifts back?"

Yes.

"Are they all different? Better? Like Dolores'?"

A hesitation, and then… Yes. No. A flutter and a knocking that signaled Casita was as confused as he was. As the Madrigals were, themselves.

"Okay, thanks for clarifying, that was super helpful." Alejandro muttered sarcastically. Casita waved a shutter right through him and then slammed them shut, pouting.

Alejandro laughed. "Don't worry, old friend. I promise I'm still around, trying to help them heal. We'll figure this out, together. They've done so well. They can handle this. I still have two Influences left! Well…one, really. I'm…sort of saving the - but…anyway. It doesn't matter. I can still help."

Casita cracked her shutter open in return, appeased.

Just then, Lucía and Josefina entered and Alejandro flew to them, hovering and watching with fatherly affection as Josefina froze in the center of Casita's courtyard, her eyes sparkling and her mouth open in awe. Her cousin Gabriela pulled her over to Sofia and Lorenzo and the rest of the familia, and Alejandro was left to admire his wife.

She was absolutely radiant in her off the shoulder blouse and voluminous skirt, and her grin lit up her face as she turned around and took in the miracle that was Casita's return. Lucía had braided her hair and wound it into an intricate design on the back of her head near the nape of her neck, adorning it with flowers as well. She was beautiful. He waved his fingers through the tendrils of hair that had escaped, wishing he could be there in person to touch her; to tell her how wonderful she was and how much he loved her.

Suddenly, the little ball of enthusiasm that was Josefina darted past them, and Lucía looked up and through him toward the wall where Bruno stayed. Apparently, Josefina had spotted her favorite Madrigal and made her way over there in a hurry.

Bruno looked sad. Uncomfortable. Even more so than a few moments ago.

Alejandro realized something must have happened, but he couldn't do anything about it -

Fortunately, Lucía noticed, too, and she did do something about it.

(She invited herself and Josefina over to Casita for a visit once the Madrigals were settled in.)

Bruno was shocked and argued that it was a pretty terrible idea for her or Josefina to be seen around him at all, lest his reputation rub off on either of them, and Alejandro shook his head in frustration. The man hadn't even had a vision yet and he was already condemning himself to a life of solitude, again! The family would not, could not further heal if Bruno insisted on cutting himself off from the world, again.

Fortunately, Lucía expertly dismantled every stubborn argument Bruno presented on why she shouldn't be friends with the town seer with a questionable past. (It seemed she took the concept of abandoning Bruno now that his gift had returned as a personal affront to her integrity.) After debunking the theory that he'd be a lousy friend because he lost the horse she lent him ( temporarily, she reminded him), she continued with all of the things she'd learned about him during his stay at her home: That he left to protect his family, that he jumped right into rebuilding said family home; that he obviously loved his family, and that he was patient and kind and gentle toward animals and children, especially her daughter.

Alejandro silently cheered on his wife. So small! Yet so bold! He looked from her to Bruno and back again as she reaffirmed her desire to remain friends.

"... I'd be honored to consider you a friend. But I understand if you do not want to be mine right now."

Wait, what ? "No, Lucía!" Alejandro frowned. "What are you doing?!"

She didn't hear him, of course, and continued. "So much has happened in the space of a few weeks. If you choose to associate with me, you will also get my pedantic father and my over-enthusiastic daughter. We will visit, we will invite you over, we will beg to hear what happens to Lareina and Lorenzo in Todos Somos Ratas Enamorados. We will not gossip about you to others. We will not blame you when the same bad things that happened for the past ten years you were gone continue to happen now that you are 'back' – people and animals get sick and die and things get lost and broken, that is life. We will not ask for a vision, but if you have one in Josefina's presence she will be curious. It is only natural – but I will make sure she understands not to pester you about it. You never have to share anything you see with any of us unless you want to. The choice is yours."

Bruno stared at her, hesitant, but she held up one finger. "But – I ask that you make that choice, knowing that my daughter is well on her way to loving you as fiercely as she loves her abuelo and her tío. I am more than willing to explain to Josefina that gossiping busybodies in the village are wrong about you. But," she said softly, "I never want to explain that we were wrong about you, if you allow her – allow us – to grow close to you, and then you decide later that it's not what you want."

Alejandro watched and waited, holding a breath he didn't even have a need for, listening for Bruno's answer.

Bruno hesitated, mulling over her offer of friendship.

Alejandro's brows furrowed. Would he seriously have to use an Influence on this ? Lucia had left the door wide open! He should be jumping at the chance to be friends with her! They were healing, together, and if he suddenly cut her off Alejandro knew it would hurt her, even if she pretended it didn't. And it would hurt Bruno to lose his first real friend in many years outside of his immediate family.

"Oh, come on! Casita, can you help me out here?" Alejandro muttered in frustration, not expecting the house to actually respond for him.

But as Josefina ran up to hang off Lucía's arm and beg her mother for a dance, Casita loosened a wall tile behind Bruno and smacked him lightly in the behind.

"Ah! Heh – uh - still friends?" Bruno asked as he lurched forward, sticking out his hand suddenly.

A smile spread across Lucía's face. "Still friends." She agreed, shaking his hand firmly before being pulled away to dance with an eager Josefina.

Alejandro's grin was a mile wide. "Nice," he said reverently, giving Casita another ghostly high-five.

This time, he stopped his hand before it passed all the way through the tile, and it actually looked like one.

Bruno and Lucía remained friends, and the Madrigals and the Moreno-Herandez family continued on their shared path of healing.

When they opened their doors that evening after the celebration, the Madrigals found both the doors and the rooms had changed to be more comfortable and more accommodating to the bearers of the gifts. The doors and the rooms themselves focused less on the gift and more on the person as a whole. Mirabel had her own room now; a huge, comfortable room overlooking the entirety of the Encanto, with a separate bedroom off to one side and a sewing room on the other. The walls were carved with glowing images of her family and the Encanto itself; it was obvious she was to be the next Keeper of the Miracle, the next Giver of Gifts.

Bruno's was smaller; a tidy, pretty little tiled room awaited on the other side of his sandfall. A door off to the side led to his bedroom, which was small and cozy and offered him a comfortable bed, nightstand, wardrobe, dresser, and desk, complete with all the paraphernalia he needed to take care of his rats. On the other side of the tiled room, across from a bench, a single flight of stairs led to a wall of rock with a rounded door that Alejandro quickly discovered was a gorgeous new vision room.

Alejandro spun in a slow circle, his mouth open in shock, taking it all in. It contained a large, open space with a high ceiling that opened to the sky, similar to Antonio's and Pepa's rooms. Lush green vines with heart shaped leaves sprawled over warm brown sandstone walls; low bushes and palms grew before them. A variety of foliage bloomed and filled the air with a faintly honeyed fragrance. A waterfall rushed steadily over the sandstone wall directly across from him and split into a small canal on either side of a small circular island. The canal flowed in front of the plants along the walls, and the waters came back together and rushed under the rock beneath his feet, disappearing into the walls of the Casita. A small stone bridge connected the sandstone entrance to the circular island in the center of the room; and island of multiple concentric circles. The outermost circle was that of the canal, then a granite path. Within the granite path was a perfect circle of sand, and then there was another circle of sandstone within that. It was a tiny paradise, crafted specifically for Bruno and his gift.

Bruno didn't even make the trip up the stairs to look at it. In fact, he purposely avoided even looking at the stairs that led to the vision room. He avoided having a vision at all, though a few involuntary ones struck him from time to time. One in particular came when he was visiting Lucía to retrieve something that had been left behind when they moved back to Casita. Lucía had been awkward but encouraging, and yet - Bruno still tried to repress that part of himself.

Alejandro knew that full healing would only come with Bruno's acceptance of his gift. The question was how to get him to even begin to embrace it, when he was obviously still so traumatized by it.

"Mercy?" He asked as he watched Lucía wave good-bye to a flushed and flustered Bruno. The familiar golden butterfly appeared before him.

He was in no rush to use what he considered to be his last Influence. He was still saving the third - the true last one - for Lucía. He had her entire lifetime to wait, watch, and learn. And yet - Alejandro had a feeling that he may have to use his second Influence sooner than he thought. "Can I use my Influence to help Bruno with his gift?"

Mercy fluttered before him. "You could Influence him to have a vision, if the circumstances were motivating enough for him to desire to help someone with his gift, but you cannot Influence him to suddenly love his gift. That will have to come with time and an increased understanding of it."

And so Alejandro waited and watched as the entire Madrigal family worked to include Bruno, to welcome him home, and to encourage him - but they too seemed apprehensive to even mention his gift at all, let alone encourage him to use it. Mirabel in particular had a special bond with her tío and would often encourage him to participate with the family and venture into town, but even she hadn't brought up his gift, yet.

And still, life went on.

They all worked together to make a schedule so that the Madrigals were regularly available to serve their community with their gifts, and balanced it with plenty of time to rest and relax and pursue other pastimes. Bruno was the only one not on the schedule. His gift remained untouched.

Bruno occasionally visited Lucía at the print shop, and she occasionally brought Josefina over to play with Antonio, and school and story times at the library once again resumed. And still, Bruno's vision room sat unused.

As often as Alejandro watched over Bruno to monitor any developments related to hsi gift, he also watched over his wife. Alejandro beamed with pride as she guided the children to understand that things were changing with the Madrigals and with the Encanto, and that that wasn't a bad thing. One day, she read them the story La Gente Mono , a classic Colombian fable about the dangers of laziness and taking help for granted, and afterward, she allowed the children to draw their own conclusions about how they'd viewed and treated the Madrigals, gently guiding them away from feelings of guilt or shame and toward feelings of gratitude and celebration of their own gifts. They made cards and polvorosas and delivered them to the Madrigals, and made plans to share their own gifts with the village.

Alejandro was just as blindsided as Lucía when, a few days later, Lucía was confronted in the marketplace by an irate parent.

"Did you tell my son we are all lazy ungrateful slobs dependent on the Madrigals?!" Tatiana Valencia hissed, wielding her hands and her words like swords in combat.

Lucía's eyebrows shot up and her lips parted in disbelief. "No – no!" She said, once the shock had worn off enough for her to speak. "I did not - "

"So now my son is a lazy slob and a liar? You have some nerve , Lucía Moreno." Tatiana spat.

Alejandro reeled backward in shock. He'd been following Lucía around all day like a teenager in love again, watching as she selected fruit and vegetables from the stalls and admiring the way she smiled and hummed a little to herself as she went along, happy and content.

She wasn't smiling or humming now.

Tatiana Valencia continued her verbal assault, accusing Lucía of being conceited, judgmental, and manipulative - all traits more in line with Tatiana's character than Lucía's. She accused Lucía of hosting the Madrigals after Casita fell just so that she could worm her way into their good graces and lord her friendship with them over the rest of the villagers. She accused her of telling the children that they had abused the Madrigals and implied that Lucía was hoarding the Madrigals and their gifts for herself and her own benefit.

Alejandro's shock was quickly replaced with horror and anger as Tatiana's attacks became less fantastical and ridiculous and more targeted and personal.

"Or," the woman said, a sudden look of smug understanding curling around her eyes and lips – "or, do you just not want the town relying on them because they failed you ?" She pointed an accusing finger at Lucía's chest, stopping just short of touching her.

Lucía frowned and faltered. "I don't – they did not -"

For the first time in a long time, Alejandro felt the sharp, cold prick of ice spreading throughout his soul.

"Oh, don't think we haven't all thought it before, Señora . If Pepa hadn't gotten angry over Camilo's behavior at school, the rains would have been on time, as scheduled – and there wouldn't have been the mudslide, making the mountainside unstable."

Oh no she didn't.

"If Dolores had been able to hear Alejandro as the rocks fell, Luisa would have been able to find him sooner – if he hadn't been unconscious, Julieta would have been able to feed him back to health. If he had just told Isabela what plants he was looking for, she could have grown them for him."

The ice turned to fire in Alejandro's soul as Tatiana continued to nonchalantly spew her poisonous words for the entire marketplace to hear. His hand began to glow.

She would ruin everything. She needed to stop.

Mercy appeared and settled at his shoulder in butterfly form. "Alejandro," he warned -

"And if that cursed man - " Tatiana spit over her shoulder, " - had stayed with his family instead of disappearing into the jungle, he could have seen it would happen and - !"

Alejandro leapt forward in a blind rage, filled to brim with sorrow and rage that after all this - after all he'd witnessed and all his own family and the Madrigals had been through, someone would dare come in and manipulate the circumstances of his death to hurt them - a death that was his own fault, and no one else's; a death that still hung over the Madrigals and his own family, despite all the growth they'd accomplished so far -

Alejandro stopped with a jerk, his hand inches away from Tatiana, his legs kicking and flailing as he strained to move those last few inches to Influence her.

"Alejandro," Mercy said firmly. "Stop."

Alejandro screamed, a long, loud, roar of anguish. "She's hurting her, Mercy! That witch is hurting my wife! She's hurting them all!"

"And will your Influence stop her? Will you be able to convince her to take it back? Will you be able to change the impact of those words, now that they've been said?"

Alejandro stopped his struggle, though the glow in his hand did not fade. He looked down to see strong arms wrapped around him, pinning his arms to his sides and preventing him from reaching Tatiana or Lucía.

Confused, he attempted to turn, and the arms released him, though the hands quickly returned to his shoulders after he'd completed his circle.

Alejandro found himself looking into the gentle, sad eyes of Pedro Madrigal.

"Who're you trying to Influence there, amigo?" He said softly.

Alejandro looked down and realized his hand was still glowing golden with unused Influence.

He looked to his left and saw that Alma Madrigal was now speaking with Tatiana and Lucía, her words calm and measured and her eyes fierce. Tatiana looked nervous and Lucía just looked…tired and sad.

"...no one."

Pedro's hands were still firmly on Alejandro's shoulders. "...so you're not attempting to Influence Tatiana Valencia to go for a long walk off a short cliff?"

Alejandro made a bitter sound halfway between a snort and a laugh.

Mercy in the form of Pedro Madrigal waited.

"...nope," Alejandro eventually ground out. "She was going to have a sudden, intense desire to grovel at Lucía's feet and then glue her mouth shut."

Pedro Madrigal chuckled softly and looked at Alejandro, a sympathetic smile on his face, his hand still firmly, reassuringly on his shoulders. "Don't waste your Influence on something that will help no one. Is there anything you can do right now, at this moment, to help?"

"…I don't know," Alejandro muttered, allowing his unused Influence to dissipate. Lucía was nowhere to be found.

"Then perhaps, all you can do in this moment is to watch. Listen. Learn. Perhaps this is an opportunity for the living to help each other and grow."

Alejandro looked around and realized that Lucía had disappeared and that Alma was walking away, guiding Tatiana to walk with her and giving her a firm talking-to. "Right," he glided backward, and Mercy released him and transformed back into a butterfly. "I - I should find Lucía."

He turned to go, and after a moment, looked back over his shoulder. Mercy was still there, waiting.

"Will you…come?"

Mercy closed the distance between them and perched on his shoulder. "All you ever need to do is ask."

One of the benefits to being a spirit was the ability to transport oneself, in an instant, to the person or location one wished to be. Alejandro had perfected this skill within the first year of his death, and he was at Lucía's side in an instant, Mercy still sitting on his shoulder.

She was currently choking back her tears while sitting on the floor of her sister's barn. Sofia shooed her husband Lorenzo out of it in an effort to give them some privacy.

"Oh, Lucía," Alejandro muttered, settling beside her, his fingers moving uselessly across her cheek. A tear still trickled down, its path unhampered by his efforts. "Lo siento, mi amor. You didn't deserve that -"

"Tell me about it, mi amor," Sofia said, sitting carefully, gently beside Lucía.

And Lucía did.

Alejandro hovered and watched and listened as Lucía told Sofia everything - about the story she had told at the print shop, about the confrontation with Tatiana, and about how she didn't blame the Madrigals for what had happened to him.

Sofia's mouth pressed into a firm line as Lucía mechanically denied blaming anyone for Alejandro's death, clearly attempting to bottle up her feelings once again.

So Sofia pushed.

"...you're not angry at Pepa?"

And pushed.

"...or Dolores?"

And pushed a little more.

"...you don't blame Bruno?"

"Don't you dare! " Lucía cried, wounded fury in her eyes. "It's not their fault, it's not Bruno's fault, it's not anyone's fault but - " she cut herself off, her face feverish and her mouth trembling.

Alejandro became extraordinarily still.

"But what?" Sofia prompted gently. "But - whose?"

Lucía clenched her jaw and shook her head sharply. "But nothing. We do not speak ill of the dead."

Alejandro trembled. This wasn't ice - this was - emptiness. A snuffing out. The darkness of deep sorrow, where once there was light.

"Lucía, mi querida, mi amor - you have not said one negative word about Alejandro since his death. When he lived, you were never afraid to confront his faults and help him be a better man. Do you think when he died all of his past actions suddenly became perfect?"

"No – but - "

"Then just let it out!"

"He didn't put us first!" Lucía cried out and then, horrified, covered her mouth with her hands.

Alejandro stared at her in horror. He felt as if his world was crumbling.

Lucía's voice was broken and tears spilled down her face. "He – he loved us, I know he did! We were – important to him – but not – not always the most important. He put his art first. He put his art first and I'm so – I – I - " She pressed her head to her knees again, pressing her skirt to her mouth to stifle a scream of pain and frustration.

"Lucía," Alejandro said, choking on his words. "Lucía - "

"I want – Josefina – to know the best of him. I want her to – know – how – beautiful he was, how – special he was. But – I – every time – she grows, or she does something like him – and he's not here to see it – and it's all because he was so stubborn about his art."

"I wish I could take it back!" Alejandro cried, kneeling beside her. "I'm so sorry - so sorry, mi amor - I - "

He stopped talking when she began again, and he listened, silent and empty as she ranted, as she grieved, as she cried. "...he went off into the jungle on his own, and there was the rockslide, and he died, and he left us – and for what?! For a handful of berries and some flowers?! We weren't worth more than berries and flowers?!"

"He made a mistake, querida, and it cost him everything. He didn't knowingly trade you away for painting supplies." Sofia's words were soft and sad and true, and Alejandro was never more grateful for his sister in law than he was in that moment.

" You are worth infinitely more," he added softly as she and Sofia continued their conversation, knowing she couldn't hear him, and knowing that at this moment, there was nothing he could do that Sofia wasn't already doing for her. He couldn't Influence her through her grief and anger; letting it out and talking through it was what she needed, and she was already doing it. She blamed him for leaving that day, she blamed herself for letting him, and she blamed both of them for their faults as parents to Josefina.

He didn't trust himself to Influence her at this moment, because - he agreed with her. "You and Josefina - leaving you - that is my greatest regret. I - I am so sorry. I will always regret leaving you too soon."

His words fell on unhearing ears.

Alejandro was shocked to learn that Bruno was the one who had alerted Sofia to Lucía's plight, banging on her door and telling her that Dolores had overheard the scene Tatiana was making in town. He watched Bruno offer to walk Lucía home and he watched Lucía accept. He watched Lucía begin to smile again as they made their way back to her home, and Alejandro realized that he could not do what he wanted to do. He could not do what Sofia and Bruno were doing for her. He couldn't offer her comfort and help. He couldn't talk to her or hold her hand or make her laugh or invite her to dinner. He couldn't beg for her forgiveness and he couldn't offer her his. Her sins had been far less than his, but she was not perfect, and he wanted her to know he understood. He forgave her her shortcomings, in their marriage and in her parenting.

But he couldn't tell her any of it. And he could not Influence Lucía to forgive him and herself in one moment; that was something that took time to work through.

He was still numb with the shock of her outburst, but his eyes had been opened to the fact that there was still so much hurt that needed to be addressed and still so much healing that needed to occur, in Lucía as much as in the Madrigals.

He was tempted to use his second Influence that evening at dinner at la Casa Madrigal. Earlier Alma had interrupted Tatiana by inviting Lucía to dinner, and it was going over about as well as Agustín attempting to harvest honey from a hive of angry bees.

It was painfully awkward to observe, and appeared no less painful for the participants themselves. Eventually, Alejandro's father in law excused himself and the youngest children, leaving Lucía and the older Madrigals to address the issue of what had happened in town that day.

Alma spoke first.

"We are so deeply sorry for Tatiana's actions today, and for your past loss." Alma whispered. "We did everything we could. I am sorry, but - "

"She was wrong!" Lucía blurted out, interrupting. "Nothing she said was true and I don't blame any of you for what happened to Alejandro."

Alejandro leaned forward in anticipation, but everyone was still avoiding eye contact with everyone else.

They didn't believe her.

Or - more likely - they believed her, but they didn't believe the truth of her statement - that they were not to blame for what happened to him.

"Come on Lucía," Alejandro whispered. "Tell them. Tell them more. Let them heal, like you are healing." As awful as Tatiana's words had been earlier today, he could see how they'd triggered a necessary outpouring of emotion. Lucía had been forced to confront feelings she'd avoided for years and it had done her good. It would do the Madrigals good as well. He could Influence her to go on, to share her heart with them - and he seriously considered it.

To his surprise, before he could put his second Influence to use, a feathery puff of light fell from the sky like a tiny shooting star and settled on the crown of Lucía's head, a golden glow suffusing her and shimmering over her. Apparently it was invisible to anyone at the table.

He turned to Mercy in surprise, and Mercy did a little flip of joy beside him. "She asked for Wisdom," Mercy explained. "And she got it."

Alejandro watched as Lucía stumbled through absolving every single Madrigal of all their imagined sins against her, reassuring each family member that they were not to blame for his death and thanking them for helping her through the aftermath. Pride suffused his entire being. She told the Madrigals so much of what he wanted to tell them all these years, and he'd never wanted to embrace her as desperately as he did when she was done. He wanted to hold her close and kiss her forehead and her nose and her eyelids and her lips and tell her how wonderful she was, how amazing, and how unbelievably lucky he was to know her.

But he could not, and so he tried to content himself with watching her be embraced and patted and loved on by Josefina, by her father, and by the rest of the Madrigals as well.

Alejandro was not content.

After the fallout of the Tatiana Confrontation, Bruno and Lucía were coerced into working on a play adaptation of a novel Lucía had been working on before Alejandro's death. It was for the upcoming Feria de las Flores at the end of the summer.

It was also a novel Alejandro and Lucía had been working on together. It was their story.

And Bruno and Lucía were changing it; altering it from a true retelling of a Denmark legend to a Colombian rat telenovela.

He could see how close they were becoming.

He saw how Lucía's eyes followed him as he worked on the script; the way she smiled at his stuttering, humble suggestions, the way her fingers twitched as though she wanted to touch him as she passed by him, bent over the worktable in concentration.

He saw how she watched him, chin propped in her hand, elbow on the worktable, a small smile on her face. He saw how it made Bruno blush when she would ask him where he'd been hiding that talent for the past fifty years and he'd point-blank, dead-pan tell her 'the walls', just to make her flustered. He saw how she would laugh at herself.

She was laughing - truly laughing - for the first time in years.

Alejandro wasn't jealous.

But he wasn't content, either.

If anything, he was…somber. Wistful. Subdued.

And still, Alejandro watched.

Alejandro watched as his daughter began to greet Bruno Madrigal with pure, unbridled delight every time she saw him, even if she'd just seen him the day before. He watched as Bruno learned how to make Josefina laugh and how intently he listened to her share her interests. He watched as Bruno shared his knowledge of rats and how Josefina had tears of joy in her eyes when Señora Rata, Bruno's oldest and most ornery rat, finally trusted her enough to climb up into her hands.

He watched as Lucía began to live again, breathing deeply over her coffee in the morning, smiling at nothing in particular; as she began to get excited again - for stories, for dancing with Josefina, for afternoon work sessions and dinners shared with Bruno.

He watched as Bruno held his head a little higher as he walked through town, how he began to be able to look someone in the eye and smile, hesitantly, in greeting. He watched as Bruno talked with his familia over meals, enthusiastically sharing what he'd worked on with Lucía that day. He watched as Bruno became a little more confident, and a lot more funny and dramatic, finally beginning to feel more comfortable in his own skin.

He watched as the Madrigals embraced their imperfections, no longer afraid to grump or tease or cry, no longer hiding their hurts but bringing them out into the open to heal.

And yet, there was the thorny situation of Bruno's gift.

Alejandro couldn't help but notice that for all the progress they'd all made in every other area, Bruno Madrigal still hadn't made one effort to even look at his vision room, let alone have a vision.

It seemed as though the prophet was no longer in the business of making prophecies.

Until, one day, he was.

It was because of Lucía.

Of course it was because of Lucía.

Bruno had a vision of Lucía, and it was all the poor besotted fool could do not to melt down trying to figure out what it meant.

And Alejandro knew he was besotted, though Bruno desperately tried to deny his attachment to her, both to himself and to a slyly suspicious Mirabel. Alejandro knew a crush when he saw one. And he saw one in the way Bruno ran his fingers reverently over the manuscripts he made with Lucía, and in the way he flushed at her praise or gratitude, and in the way he made excuses to check on her, and in the way his eyes sought her out every time he knew she was nearby.

It didn't really matter, though.

Bruno could secretly adore Lucía all he wanted, but it didn't mean Lucía returned his feelings. And if Bruno was denying it, then - surely it would pass, eventually.

That's what Alejandro told himself.

He cared for Bruno, but Lucía and Josefina had already dealt with the heartbreak of another man who'd left them forever. He knew the circumstances behind Bruno's decade-long disappearance and no longer judged him for it, but he was afraid that if the pressure of his newly returned gift became too much, he'd disappear again. Alejandro was just - being protective of the wife and daughter he'd left behind.

(That's what Alejandro told himself.)

So despite being slightly frustrated with Mirabel's insistence that her tío Bruno was in love with Lucía, Alejandro was happy when she convinced Bruno to try having a vision of Lucía to figure out what was going to happen. He was a bit concerned about her himself and he could tolerate Bruno's crush on his wife if it meant seeing something they could save her from, in the future.

When Bruno and Mirabel entered Bruno's vision room for the first time, Alejandro couldn't help but smile. They were stunned speechless by its beauty. Bruno cried, silent tears dripping down his cheeks. Alejandro was happy for them. Bruno being willing to use his gift was another step toward healing - and on top of that - Alejandro felt like he'd gotten extremely lucky; he didn't need to use his Influence to help Bruno use his gift again.

He felt a little less lucky when he witnessed Bruno's vision for the first time. The vision showed Lucía sitting, heartbroken and devastated, on a bench in town. When Mirabel insisted Bruno look again; look further - they found a golden butterfly, and -

His murales disappeared.

Alejandro blinked in confusion, a foreboding anxiety creeping into the depths of his soul.

His murales - his greatest life's work - gone?

And there was Lucía, devastated on that bench, her eyes as empty and hollow as the day he died, and -

Alejandro's brow furrowed.

There was Bruno, sitting beside her, taking her hand. She looked to him, clinging to his hand with one of her own and gripping his ruana with her other…but her eyes were bright, emotional, and decidedly not empty.

That's all they saw.

It was too bad the vision was so ambiguous.

Alejandro groaned in frustration as Bruno and Mirabel left the vision room, chatting about Mirabel's plans for the evening.

He transported himself to Lucía and tried to content himself with watching her help her father in the print shop filling orders, but he soon grew restless with the knowledge of what he'd just seen in her future.

He transported himself to Josefina, playing in her room, but she was drawing quietly and he soon grew restless watching her, as well. He felt desperate, almost like something was slipping through his fingers, and he didn't know how to stop it.

And so he transported himself back to Casita, hovering restlessly over her roof. He was irritable, he was frustrated, and he was worried. Casita could tell, and she lifted a roof tile in question. When he didn't respond, she clacked in irritation.

"Mercy?" He called.

The familiar butterfly appeared at his side.

Alejandro wasted no time in getting to the point. "Bruno had a vision of Lucía. In it, my murales disappeared, and then he comforted her."

Mercy hovered beside him. "...is that not a good thing?"

"No!"

Mercy said nothing. Casita said nothing.

Alejandro sighed in frustration, more for the familiar sound of it than out of an actual need to sigh. "I mean - it's - good that he used his gift, purposefully, for the first time since it returned."

"I'd say so," Mercy agreed. Casita ruffled a line of tiles in approval.

"And…it's…good…that if - when - Lucía is upset, she'll have a - a friend to help her through it."

"Agreed," Mercy said cheerfully. Casita made a rough clacking sound that almost sounded like laughter.

"They're friends, " Alejandro snapped at her. At his tone, she stopped responding to him at all.

"But…my murales disappearing is not a good thing!" Alejandro protested, turning back to Mercy and ignoring Casita's cold shoulder. "That was my life's work!"

"Was it really?" Mercy asked, his voice light and carefully neutral.

"It was!"

"Hmmm."

"Can I stop it from happening?"

Mercy made a small, apologetic noise that Alejandro took to mean 'no'. "Seeing the future is Bruno's gift, not yours - and his ability to impact the future is very limited. You do have two remaining Influences, but I would not recommend using one to keep your murales intact. It is ultimately your choice, but - "

"If you're not going to be helpful either, you can go," Alejandro crossed his arms and looked away, feeling childish and petulant.

"As you wish. Just remember that Mercy is my nature. There is just as much mercy in telling a hard truth as there is in relieving a burden of grief or consequence. I am merely giving you the gift of truth, dear one."

Alejandro felt guilty immediately after Mercy left, but he felt the need to cool off before attempting to speak with him again. He drifted around Casita - who continued ignoring him - and, as Alejandro usually did, he ended up in Bruno's room.

Bruno sat quietly at his desk, painting props and making notes on his telenovela, taking a break from working on the play he'd undertaken with Lucía. His rats squeaked around him, and the vision tablet he'd made of Lucía sat on the desk at his elbow.

Alejandro hovered, pacing back and forth before the emerald slab, watching his wife alternately move from despair to hope in the graven image; the catalyst - Bruno Madrigal. His fingers ghosted over the smooth surface, and he wished he could change things. He wished he could change the cause of Lucía's grief; he wished he could undo the past and return to his wife and daughter.

"We're friends," Bruno muttered, and Alejandro started.

He was talking to one of his rats, the small pet sniffing first at the tablet, and then curiously at Bruno's fingers. "Mirabel was wrong," Bruno sighed. "She's young so she - she sees attachment and she thinks - drama! Romance! Happily Ever After! But - but I know how that goes. Or - how it doesn't go. For me. And I - I know that I'm never getting the fairytale ending that Juli and Pepa have. I'm too old and too - too - too me ."

Alejandro perched on the edge of the desk and listened.

"And we're friends. She's - she's my first real friend and I - I'm not going to mess that up. I can't mess it up. I can't - I can't lose her. I don't want her to be sad. I just - I want her to be happy. I want to help her. Wanting to help a friend when they're sad, enjoying spending time with them, feeling - the happiest you've ever been when you make them smile - that's not - that's not being in love. Psssshhh. Ha! Heh - " Bruno shook his head. "Right?"

The rat squeaked, whether in agreement or argument Alejandro couldn't tell.

Alejandro's irritation ebbed away as Bruno waxed on about his relationship with Lucía and about the vision itself, working out his fears and his feelings by talking to his rats.

Even if he vehemently denied being attracted to her, even to himself - Bruno really did care about her, and Alejandro loved him for that.

Alejandro stayed with Bruno for the rest of the day, and so he was there when Dolores burst into the room.

"Mirabel called to me from the meeting, Tío. She said that your vision is happening tonight and if you want to help your friend, you need to find that bench."

Alejandro's spirit sank. What ?! But if it was happening now, then -

He willed himself to Lucía's side, and stared, aghast, at the whitewashed wall glaring at him from across the street.

Lucía and Josefina sat on a bench facing what used to be the murales of Los Madrigal, and Josefina hid her face in her mother's side as a shocked and sorrowful Lucía attempted to comfort her.

Alejandro was devastated. He was angry. His greatest life's work was gone, in the span of a day, and there was nothing he could do about it. His Influence might have temporarily stopped the person who had painted over it, but it wouldn't bring it back. He couldn't do anything to comfort them. He had a vague feeling that he was slowly being erased; slowly being forgotten.

That feeling only became sharper when Bruno arrived.

The man sat beside his wife and held her hand.

He didn't need to say anything. There was nothing to say. So he simply held her hand, and that was enough.

Alejandro noticed when Lucía flipped her hand over to thread her fingers through his, pressing their palms together.

He watched as Bruno coaxed Josefina out of her mother's side and inadvertently made her smile.

He watched as Bruno willingly played 'Hernando' to cheer her up.

(' Hernando does not fear the mucus of small children. Hernando fears nothing!')

And, when a few misspoken words caused Josefina's face to fall back into a hard, petulant scowl, it was Bruno and Lucía together who validated her emotions and helped her to navigate them.

(' Are you afraid of losing things, Hernando?'

'...Hernando - Hernando is not afraid of hard things, but that does not mean he is not saddened by them. Of all the hard things, losing someone you love is the hardest.')

When the three of them walked toward Casita, hand in hand, Alejandro felt strange. It was as if he was seeing the future - their future - at the exact same time that he saw what his own past few years could have been, had he made different choices. It left him feeling melancholy, with an aching regret in his soul that he wasn't sure would ever leave.

Even Lucía's words later that evening, that she wanted to move forward but didn't want to forget him, did little to comfort Alejandro.

Especially because five minutes later, Bruno admitted he'd had a vision and sought her out because he didn't want her to have to be sad, alone. He also admitted that he wasn't exactly sure that the vision had been fulfilled because in it, she was sitting on a bench alone, but tonight - Josefina had been there. So there might be more to it than what had happened that evening. He was embarrassed and apologetic, but Lucía didn't care. She threw her arms around him and hugged him, murmuring 'gracias' into his shoulder.

She used to hug Alejandro like that, with her face pressed against his neck and her arms flung around his shoulders. But then again, she also hugged her padre and her sister and her brother-in-law like that, too, so it didn't have to mean anything… more.

Alejandro hoped in the deepest recesses of his soul that it didn't mean anything more.

He shouldn't be anything but thankful that Bruno was there to help his wife and daughter. The fact that they had someone in their lives who cared about their welfare and happiness so deeply was a gift. And he was thankful for Bruno. He cared about Bruno. He wanted the man to have the world.

Alejandro just didn't trust him to take over his world.

Bruno Madrigal began using his gift again.

It was by invitation only and involved a contract to protect him from any potential fallout for a bad prophecy, but he was still scared, to begin with. Despite his fear, he began having visions again, with the full emotional support of the Madrigal family and Lucía behind him.

The fact that Alejandro hadn't needed to Influence anyone at all for this to happen made him feel strangely uneasy. He was grateful, but he had the sinking suspicion that his intervention - his Influence - wasn't even necessary. He felt like - his wife didn't need him, his daughter didn't need him; it appeared the Madrigals could handle everything - including his own family - from here on out.

He was happy to see that his family was healing, but it was bittersweet. Life went on without him. His whole world went on without him in it.

He continued watching over his little family. In life, he believed that he was the only one that would ever fully appreciate Lucía and that he was the only one she would ever truly love.

But with every passing day, he believed that less and less.

For starters, Bruno definitely appreciated Lucía. He adored her. He sought her out and talked with her and was always happy to see her and eager to help her. He had his first vision post-Casita's-return because of her, for goodness' sake. He continued to explore that particular vision, revealing more and more pieces, waiting to see how he could help - if he could prevent whatever made her so heartbroken on that bench.

And Alejandro was starting to see, with each passing day, that Lucía loved Bruno as well. She looked for him in a crowded room and her eyes lit up when she saw him. She was excited to share her work and ideas with him. She encouraged him and supported him as he experimented with his gift, sharing his visions with certain members of the town again. She celebrated with him when those visions turned out to be helpful; when people started appreciating them. She marked passages in the Bible that she thought would help and comfort him as he wrestled with his abilities, and she got flustered and almost shy when she gifted it to him. It wasn't fully romantic love - not quite yet - but he could see how with the smallest nudge, she'd cross that line and fall for the man entirely.

And although he wanted Lucía to be happy, and he wanted Bruno to be happy, Alejandro was unapologetically sad that they might be happiest together.

Alejandro Moreno made a huge mistake.

A mistake of epic proportions. On par with the mistake that led to his death.

He spent so much time observing Bruno and Lucía and their budding relationship that he failed to notice his daughter and her friends using his manuscript in her art project for La Feria de Las Flores.

If he'd been paying less attention to the growing chemistry between Bruno and Lucía, he might have noticed the way Josefina pointed in the general direction of the supply cabinet in the workshop when Cecilia asked where more paper was - too general a direction for her friend to understand.

If he'd been paying less attention to the way Lucía's eyes darted from Bruno's eyes to his mouth and back again as they rehearsed the love confession scenes in their play, he might have noticed that the pile of papers Cecilia grabbed were of the old novel manuscript instead of the scrap papers on a shelf below it.

If he'd watched Lucía just a little less intently, if he was just a little less afraid of what the two of them finally realizing their feelings might mean; if he was just a little less obsessed with being replaced by an anxious rat man, he might have noticed how upset Josefina was when she'd realized her mistake.

If he hadn't been watching Bruno like a hawk all morning because of the vision he'd told Lucía he'd agreed to have for someone in town and her promise that she'd 'meet up with him for lunch to hear about it', he might have seen Josefina drop off her project at school with Juan Valencia, Tatiana's son, and then walk straight into the jungle.

Alejandro finally noticed when she didn't come home for lunch.

The entire village noticed when she didn't come home for lunch.

By the time Lucía banged on Casita's door, pleading for help, Alejandro knew Josefina was missing. In fact, he knew exactly where she was. He could transport himself to her side, and he knew that at the moment, she was safe, if a little wet and dirty, taking a siesta in a rare patch of sunlight in the jungle.

The problem was, though he could transport himself to her side, he didn't know where she was. She was in the middle of the rainforest near a stream, but he had no way of knowing how she'd gotten there. Transporting wasn't like flying over something like a bird; it was like closing your eyes in one room and opening them to find yourself in another. He knew where Josefina was, but not how to get anyone else there.

"Mercy!" He cried, hovering over his sleeping daughter. "Mercy, please!"

Mercy was there in an instant. "I'm here."

Alejandro paced, flying to and fro. "How - how - what do I do? Tell me what to do! Tell me what I need to do to bring her home safely!"

Mercy settled on Josefina's shoulder. "There are many paths that will end with Josefina home safe with her mother. Two paths are more likely than the others, but they do not depend on you."

Alejandro stopped short. "What do you mean, they don't depend on me ? I can - I have two Influences left! I can use them - " he cut himself off.

He couldn't Influence anyone to find Josefina if he couldn't tell them how to get to her. And she was sleeping. If he attempted to Influence her now, she'd simply brush it off as a dream. And even if he Influenced her to wake up, he had no idea if he could Influence her to go home - what had caused her to leave in the first place. He didn't know if she could even find her way home. If he attempted to Influence her home, he might just make her even more lost.

She was so incredibly stubborn, just like him.

"I can't use them on Josefina," he said, slowly drawing out the words, as if keeping them unsaid could somehow prevent them from being true. "I can't use them on Josefina, not while she's sleeping, at least. And I can't use them to lead anyone else here. I can't - I can't do anything."

"You can use your Influence to guide, warn, comfort, and encourage," Mercy reminded him.

"Right. Comfort. Encourage. I can't guide anyone here, but I can - I can comfort Lucía. I can encourage them not to give up. I can still help. I can still help! Mercy - " Alejandro spun on the spot. "Mercy, will you stay here, with my daughter? Please? Please stay with her. Protect her. Until - until someone comes for her?"

Mercy, in butterfly form, settled on the sleeping Josefina's shoulder. "I will stay with her, Alejandro. If you need me, I will come to you."

"Gracias. Gracias, Mercy. Just - stay with her. That's all I need. I just need her to be safe."

The hours ticked by and it was a special kind of torture, seeing everyone panic over Josefina's disappearance.

It was especially painful to witness Lucía's downward spiral of grief and hopelessness.

Alejandro watched in agony as Lucía relived the worst moments of her life. He was well aware that the entire day was an eerie repetition of what had happened in the days leading up to his death. No one in the village was able to tell her where Josefina was. She begged the Madrigals for help, which they readily provided. She slowly lost hope as Dolores failed to find Josefina (she was asleep and too far away; her breaths blended in with all the other sounds of the jungle). And finally, as the evening began, Bruno's vision came true.

Lucía sat alone, devastated on a bench, in the throes of a panic attack.

Alejandro had just come back to her from checking on Josefina (still asleep), and he prepared to Influence his wife to comfort her and encourage her to keep looking - until Bruno arrived. He called her name as he ran to her, and he didn't even hesitate to sit beside her. She latched onto him in desperation, and he offered her a vision to help find Josefina. At first she refused, knowing she had promised she'd never ask him for one. But Bruno convinced her he was making a genuine offer to help find Josefina before Alejandro could even consider Influencing her to accept.

Alejandro watched anxiously, transporting himself between a still-sleeping Josefina in the jungle and Lucía with Bruno in his vision room. He hovered with them in the vision circle, his hands in his hair, throwing them up in the air and shouting with relief when Bruno's vision showed that eventually, after a conversation with Juan Valencia, she would be home safe with Lucía. He didn't even care that Lucía threw her arms around Bruno in gratitude; he did the same.

Dolores, Bruno, and Lucía - completely unaware that their trio was really a quartet, with Alejandro trailing beside them - soon set out to follow their only clue to Josefina's whereabouts - an image of a pointing Juan Valencia. Dolores was determined to stick with Lucía to give her any updates on her missing daughter as soon as she heard them, and Alejandro was ready to use his Influence at a moment's notice, should it be necessary.

Alejandro was entirely prepared to use it when Tatiana forbade Juan from speaking with Lucía and Bruno. She obviously still held a grudge after their altercation in the marketplace. But Juan spoke up on his own, tearfully arguing with his mother about how her accusations against the Madrigals had made him an outcast at school. Horrified that her actions had negatively affected her beloved son, she reluctantly encouraged him to tell Lucía where he'd last seen Josefina.

He pointed toward the jungle, in the direction he'd seen her walk after dropping her project at the school. The group sent a bird to Antonio, communicating what they'd learned and asking for additional searchers, and then briefly investigated the school project, wondering why it was so important for her to turn it in before running off.

That was when they discovered what had happened.

Josefina and her classmates had inadvertently used the manuscript Alejandro and Lucía had worked on together, filled with her words and his sketches, to make a good portion of the paper flowers on the silleta they'd made for La Feria de Las Flores.

The pages - pages and pages of Alejandro's work - had been cut and painted and glued and changed almost beyond recognition. Alejandro mourned the loss of his work, but even more than that - he grieved that his daughter felt the need to run away because she'd accidentally ruined it.

So did Lucía.

"Did she think I would be so angry with her that she felt she had to run away? I know I've been distracted the past few weeks; we've been busy…but – I – I thought she was enjoying herself. And I would rather have her than a thousand sketches! She has to know that!" Lucía held onto the scrap of paper she'd gently pulled from the project, her fists balling together in guilt and frustration.

Bruno gently took the scrap of paper from her and put it down on the desk beside them. "I think she does. You're a good madre, Lucía." He wrung his hands in front of him and hesitated. "I think…somehow…it's all connected. I think – the murales disappearing, and her reaction to that, and then realizing she'd ruined another piece of – of her padre's artwork – it's all connected."

Of course it was. Of course - he'd been so caught up in the murales disappearing, and then - so caught up in Lucía and Bruno's relationship -

He'd told Mercy that the murales was his greatest life's work.

He was wrong.

It was Josefina. It was Josefina and Lucía; his family.

Bruno and Dolores and Lucía turned to go, to continue their search, and Lucía stopped Bruno, for just a moment.

"Bruno? How are you holding up? You can – you should go home, if you need to. We'll let you know as soon as we find her, lo prometo," she said.

But Bruno shook his head. "You won't need to. I'll already know. I'm fine. I'm - I'm staying. Okay?"

Lucía stared at him for a moment, something warm and ambiguous in her expression. "Okay," she whispered.

"Okay," Alejandro echoed softly behind them.

He passed her up.

Bruno was right there, Josefina had woken up, she was curled in a ball, hiding from the unknown person crashing through the ferns and brush nearby.

But Bruno passed her by, calling her name, looking and searching desperately for a precious treasure in the growing shadows of the jungle.

I'm staying. Okay?

Alejandro could still hear the determination in his voice.

He'd judged Bruno and his wife unfairly.

He'd fallen into the same trap yet again, and his jealousy and ambition to get his Influence exactly right was just another expression of his pride.

Alejandro knew Josefina would be found eventually. If Bruno passed her up, Luisa or Dolores or Lucía or any number of villagers could find her.

But he knew Bruno loved her. He knew Bruno loved her and he knew she loved Bruno, and even though he wanted it to be anyone else that found her, that would be her hero, after this - he knew, for exactly that reason, that it had to be Bruno. If his pride was telling him to let someone else find her, he had to work against it and allow Bruno and his daughter to become closer. He wouldn't let his daughter suffer another second, alone and afraid in the jungle, just because he was afraid he was being replaced.

His hand glowed golden with Influence, and he touched Bruno's shoulder and spoke.

'Look again, Bruno. Those ferns look familiar. They're from your vision, earlier. You saw Josefina hiding in them before she was reunited with Lucía. Look again, Bruno. Look.'

"You did well, Alejandro."

Alejandro floated over the roof of Casita on his back, staring up at the stars, and he did not respond. The night was quiet, and though Casita was still, he could feel her presence, observing and listening as Mercy spoke with him.

Josefina had been found. She'd poured her little heart out to Bruno, sobbing and admitting that she was sad and angry that she'd ruined the manuscript and that her father was never coming back to make another one. He held her as she cried and admitted that he felt the same, sometimes, about his own father. He offered Josefina a comfort and a sympathy that Alejandro could never hope to replicate, not even with an Influence.

"I messed up," Alejandro corrected flatly.

"Everyone messed up," Mercy said kindly. "That is the nature of humanity; the nature of your fallen world. But you all fixed your mistakes so humbly today. It was a pleasure to witness. Your Influence today was a kindness to Josefina and to Bruno, in ways you do not yet fully understand. Bruno's hesitation to use his gift was only one aspect of his still aggrieved heart, and his family and Lucía have begun to help him heal there. His relationship with his father is complex, and you've begun the process of healing that wound; it is something no one else has been able to touch, yet. It was well done."

"He loves her."

Casita shifted beneath him, a subtle movement that showed her interest.

"He does love Josefina," Mercy agreed. "She looks up to him and she trusts him. She has lived the entire six years of her life completely unaware of the stigma that has affected him these past twenty-odd years, and her opinion of him and affection for him is pure, whole-hearted, and entirely genuine. I think his actions today demonstrate how much he has grown to care for her. His love for her is just as pure, whole-hearted, and genuine as her love for him."

"Yes," Alejandro said softly after a moment. "He does love Josefina. But I meant Lucía. He loves her."

Mercy hummed noncommittally. Casita shifted again.

"I saw the way he looked at her, earlier, when he brought Josefina to her. After she touched his face, after she told him 'gracias', and later - when Josefina kissed his cheek, and then Lucía did - the way his hand curled around his ruana, over his heart as he watched them walk away - he knows. He knows he loves Lucía now. He knows he's in love with her, now."

Alejandro sat up and crossed his legs, settling himself directly onto Casita's roof. It required concentration to not just slip right through her roof into the room below, but he'd gotten better at it with practice. "And she loves him, but she's not in love with him. Yet."

Mercy flapped his wings, slowly and deliberately. "I think - "

"I think you're about to have mercy on me by telling me a truth I do not want to hear," Alejandro interrupted.

"You would be correct."

"Let's save it for tomorrow then, my friend," Alejandro whispered, pressing his palms to Casita's upturned tiles. It was as though he sat in a nest; she was gently surrounding him with sympathetic pats, comforting him the only way she knew how. "For tonight, let me be the only man my wife will ever love."

He had a very strong suspicion that he was not going to use his last Influence the way he'd originally planned. His last gift to Lucía would not be in waiting to greet her after her death. His last gift to her would be in encouraging her to live, to find love and embrace it once again.

A/N:

Thanks for reading the Cliffnotes version of 'Ordinary, Everyday Miracle', lol! ...I SERIOUSLY underestimated how challenging it would be to hit all the most important parts of that story in a mere three chapters of this one. I'm still a little frustrated with this chapter, because I wanted it to be its own thing but it's still so closely tied to my original story...it was hard not to get muddled up and bogged down while still following along with it. If you felt like the romance part was rushed...so do I! The original is much better in my humble opinion and I suggest that if you haven't read it already, you check that one out for a good slow burn, lol.

I really loved reading over all of your theories on how Bruno would use his second Influence. And I really did consider having him use it during Lucía's speech at the dinner with the Madrigals, but I knew he'd use an Influence when Josefina went missing and needed to save the last one for the last chapter so...Lucía prayed for wisdom, and she got it!

I know this chapter came late and on a different prompt day than I originally specified, but for real, the last chapter of this story will be posted on October 28th, prompt: Transformation. Thanks so much for your support and I'll see you then!