At some point, Bruno fell asleep.

It happened all at once. One moment, Mirabel was talking to him—something about Isabela's art studies—as he listened closely, and the next his eyelids drooped and his head nodded and he was out.

It reminded her a bit of Antonio when he was younger and Mirabel laughed quietly to herself. She leaned back in her seat. The sun was getting lower in the sky, and they still had a bit of a walk once they finally reached their destination—the family's smaller farming village was about an hour away on foot from the larger town where the bus line ended.

Mirabel winced. She was going to be so late.

She dug around in her bag by her feet and pulled out her double-pointed needles and a sock she was knitting, but quickly found she couldn't concentrate. She barely completed one round before dropping the sock on her lap and sitting back, frustrated.

There hadn't been time before, with the pressure of getting out of the Encanto and into town with Bruno before the last bus left, but now that she had a moment to herself, she worried.

What would her family say, when they saw Bruno? And would they even believe her? It hadn't taken much to convince her of his identity, but she had had Casita there to confirm it, plus the visions and the…the plates.

The plates worried her. Everything about Bruno worried her, if she was being honest. She had so many questions she didn't dare ask him directly: how had he survived the house collapsing? Where had he gone—was the witch he mentioned the same witch, and if so, how long had he been with her? How long had he been…cursed, like this? He had some kind of fetter around his ankle, as much as she tried to ignore it, but that must mean he had been captured at some point so…when had he escaped? How long had he lived inside the crumbling Casita?

And why, oh why, hadn't he ever tried to find them, to let them know he was alive?

Mirabel somewhat knew the answer to the last question, but she didn't like to think about his reasoning behind it. She wasn't sure she believed his answer about not Looking into his own future, either—wouldn't knowing whether or not you'd be reunited with your family be better than not knowing at all?

She frowned, thinking back:

But, once you see a potential future, it can be pretty hard to avoid it.

Maybe…maybe knowing would be worse.

Sheesh, all this future stuff really made her brain itch.

Mirabel looked up as the bus driver shouted something about the last stop. The bus was nearly empty now, with only a few other passengers sitting in the first few rows. She could see their destination out the front window, bathed in orange from the late afternoon sun.

She put her knitting back in her bag and looked her tío over. Bruno was fast asleep, his head resting awkwardly against the back of the seat. The shawl was still in place, but a few of his black-and-gray curls had escaped his hood. She had no idea where Hernando and Gabriela were, and found she actually didn't want to know.

She wondered when he'd slept last.

Mirabel waited until the bus pulled into the station to wake him, placing her hand on his arm and gently nudging him until he stirred.

"Tío Bruno, we're here," she whispered.

Bruno awoke with a start, limbs flailing. His eyes were frantic until they landed on Mirabel's concerned face.

"Mirabel," he said, relieved. He yawned and stretched his long arms. "How–how long did I sleep?"

"Maybe an hour? You must have been really tired."

"Hmm," Bruno acknowledged. He rubbed his eyes, and adjusted the shawl and his hood, tucking his hair back inside. He smoothed down the front of his ruana, checking for his rats.

The bus rolled to a stop and the other passengers began to disembark. Mirabel stood, hoisting her bag onto her shoulders. Bruno followed behind her, one hand on her bag, avoiding the curious gaze of the bus driver when they passed him.

"The farm's another hour's walk from here," Mirabel said, stepping off the bus and squinting in the sunlight. "So let's grab something to eat before we—"

"Mirabel? Mirabel Rojas?"

Mirabel whirled around, pushing Bruno behind her. A man sprang to his feet from his seat on a bench and approached them, a broad smile on his handsome face. She didn't immediately recognize him.

"¿Sí…?" she said, frowning at him.

"It's been a long time—I wasn't sure it was you, at first," the man replied, sounding relieved. "But your embroidery gave it away."

It clicked.

"Mariano?" Mirabel asked, bewildered. "What–what are you doing here?"

Mariano shrugged his shoulders. "I was coming to town to pick up a few things and your padre asked me to see if you made it okay," he said. "Besides, you are the last of Dolores' primas to arrive, and I wanted to be personally assured of your safety." He inclined his head and offered her his arm with a smile, but paused when he saw Bruno standing behind her. "Ah. I hadn't realized you were bringing a friend."

"Um," Mirabel said, glancing back at Bruno, mind racing. "He's, uh—"

"We met on the–on the bus," Bruno said quickly. Mariano looked at him, taking in his tall stature and heavily covered face with a frown, and Bruno hunched his shoulders. "Mirabel was just–just pointing me to–to the nearest–the nearest inn."

"Yep!" Mirabel broke in, a relieved smile spreading across her face. "Yep, that's what we were doing! Inns, yep."

Mariano glanced between the two of them. "Right," he said. "Well, you've come to town during a most fortuitous week, señor, for in two days I am marrying the love of my life, Dolores Castillo."

His gaze became rather dreamy when he mentioned Mirabel's oldest prima, and she pressed her lips together, trying not to laugh.

"You, of course, are welcome to attend if you are still in town," Mariano continued.

"That's—that's very generous of you," Bruno said after a long pause. He fidgeted with his ruana.

Mariano nodded and smiled before turning to Mirabel and offering his arm again. "Your padres will be thrilled to see you've arrived safely," he said. "¡Vamos! Before Camilo eats all of the ajiaco."

Mirabel laughed. "Yeah, okay, just–just one…second…" she said, stepping away from him, ignoring his confused expression.

She grabbed Bruno's arm and pulled him a little ways away. "Sorry, I didn't think anyone would be here, least of all Mariano."

Bruno shrugged. "Don't–don't worry about me," he said. "I'll follow you the–the best I can."

"Yeah, okay," Mirabel said with a nod. "Just…hide in the barn when you get there? Maybe?"

"I'll figure it out, Mirabel," Bruno said. He touched her arm briefly. "Just go. I'll meet you–meet you there. Lo prometo."

"Is everything okay, Mirabel?" Mariano asked, suddenly appearing at Mirabel's side, making her jump. He straightened up to his full height and folded his arms across his chest, looking Bruno up and down.

"Mariano, geez," Mirabel said, huffing. "Don't scare me like that. I'm fine, just saying goodbye to Señor, uh—"

"Oscar," Bruno whispered.

"Señor Oscar," Mirabel repeated. "I'm fine."

Mariano did not back down. "The cart is just around the corner, Mirabel. Your padres are expecting you. Vamos, por favor."

Mirabel sighed. She looked at Bruno and gave him a mock-salute. "Duty calls, Señor Oscar. Be—be safe."

Bruno nodded but said nothing.

Reluctantly, Mirabel turned her back on her uncle and finally took Mariano's offered arm. Mariano took off, walking much faster than she anticipated, and she stumbled trying to keep up.

"Geez, he's not chasing us," Mirabel protested. "He was just some guy on the bus."

Mariano shook his head. "Something is…off about him," he said, glancing over his shoulder. "And he was watching you too closely."

Mirabel bit the inside of her cheek to keep herself from laughing. He was right, even if he didn't know the full story—something, indeed, was off about Señor Oscar.

Still, it was a sweet gesture. She patted his arm. "Thanks, Mariano."

The cart Mariano mentioned actually was just around the corner, hitched to a donkey—one that Mirabel recognized from the farm. The cart was loaded down with stuff—she could see folded tablecloths and candlesticks and crates of clear glass vases—and that was only the outside edges.

Mirabel whistled. "Just a few things, huh?"

Mariano rubbed the back of his neck. "Sí, uh, Señora Castillo had quite the list. I'm sure I'll be back for more tomorrow. Ah, here, allow me." He reached for Mirabel's bag and she let him take it and place it in the back of the cart.

Out of the corner of her eye, Mirabel saw Bruno slowly approach them, doing his best to not draw any attention to himself. Attention, however, was unavoidable: the occasional passerby would look up (and up) at him and frown at his covered face and awkward gait from trying to keep his tail tucked up and out of sight, and he would cringe away, thus drawing even more attention to himself.

All she knew was she did not want Mariano to see him again.

"Hey, Mariano!" she called. He turned to her and she gave him a huge smile. "Dolores tells me you write poetry, are you thinking about writing your own vows?"

Mariano's face brightened, and he launched into a very technical description of his work. The majority of it flew over Mirabel's head, for the most part, but it did keep his attention away from the back of the cart as Bruno approached.

He made eye contact with her over Mariano's shoulder. She tried to nod imperceptibly, looking at him, then at the cart, then back to him.

Bruno seemed to get what she was trying to say, as he nodded before carefully wedging himself between two crates of wedding decorations and pulling a tablecloth over his head.

Mirabel swallowed down her anxiety. It would have to do.

Mariano helped her into the cart and got in himself, flicking the reins to get the donkey moving. Slowly, the donkey did, struggling under the weight of the cart. Mariano glanced back once or twice, frowning.

"I knew I should've taken two trips," he said glumly.

Mirabel giggled a little too long.


Mariano was a bad listener. Once Mirabel got him talking, he passionately described, in excruciating detail, the wedding decorations and the food and his anticipation of the event itself, and she couldn't get two words in edgewise the entire time.

Maybe this is why Dolores loves him so much, she thought, amused. They balance each other perfectly.

She was, however, very grateful for the ride, even if it was a little bumpy. After hiking two days in a row, and running around a broken house, and sleeping on a stone floor, and just, everything else, she was exhausted. But, the closer they got to the farm, the more her excitement grew. Her family hadn't been all together like this in a very long time.

She glanced over her shoulder to the lump where she knew Bruno was hiding, and she smiled. A very long time, indeed.

They arrived in less than forty minutes, instead of the hour she was used to. Mariano drove the cart close to the barn opposite the house, on the other side of the orchard, and dismounted, jogging around to offer his hand to help her down.

"Gracias," Mirabel said, her skirt catching a little on the edge of the seat, nearly putting her flat on her face. Thankfully, Mariano didn't say anything, and helped right her with a small smile.

"Of course," he replied. "Here, let me fetch your bag—"

"No! Um."

Mariano stopped, confused, and Mirabel flushed.

"I'll grab it," she said. "Actually, you-you go on ahead, I can get the donkey unhitched and put away."

Mariano frowned. "Oh, you don't have to—"

"I want to!" Mirabel grinned up at him. "It's your wedding week too, after all! I'll get Camilo to help get the cart unloaded. Go spend some time with Dolores!" Please, go distract her so she doesn't pay any attention to me!

"If you're sure you're not too tired…"

She was, but she wasn't about to tell him that. "Completely! I used to do this all the time, I'll be inside in a flash!" Her grin stretched wider, almost hurting her face.

Mariano gave her one last skeptical look before shrugging and turning to head toward the house. Mirabel waited until he was out of the barn and fully out of sight before she let her grin fade.

She rubbed her cheek and whispered, "Okay, he's gone."

Bruno's head popped out of the pile of tablecloths, the shawl gone from his face and his hair disheveled. Mirabel stifled a laugh and offered her hand, helping him step out of the cart.

"He–he sure does love the sound of his own voice," Bruno said once he was solidly on the ground.

Mirabel broke into giggles and Bruno cracked a smile.

"You have no idea," she said when she finally composed herself enough to speak. "But he's a really nice guy, honest, and perfect for Dolores."

"Hmm," Bruno said. He shook himself, letting his tail down, and looked around. "So, this is…"

"Antonio's barn," Mirabel said. She walked around to start unhitching the donkey. "I mean, it's just, you know, a plain old barn, really, where Tío Félix keeps the horses and goats and this old burro here, but once Antonio got his Gift it kinda became his. I think Parce stays here, sometimes, up in the rafters, but if he's not here that means he's either with Antonio or off doing his jaguar thing somewhere."

Bruno eyed the rafters. "Hopefully with Antonio," he muttered.

Mirabel led the donkey to one of the empty stalls and quickly brushed him down. She hung up the bridle on its usual hook. When she returned, she saw that Bruno had taken her bag out of the cart for her and placed her shawl, neatly folded, on top.

"Gracias," she said. She hesitated.

Bruno fidgeted. "You—you'd better go," he said. He tried to smile. "Before they wonder where you are."

Mirabel nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, okay. Um. I'll try to be back soon, with food!"

Bruno inclined his head. "I'll—I'll be here." He made a shooing motion with his clawed hands. "And I will be just fine, Mirabel. Go, be with your family."

As she left, she tried not to dwell too long on his phrasing.


Mirabel's stomach twisted into knots as she approached the house. It wasn't fully dark out yet, but the candles were already lit, giving the old farmhouse a warm glow. Looking up at it, she hadn't realized how much she'd missed the place until now.

Luisa was sitting on the porch reading, but when she saw Mirabel she dropped her book and leapt to her feet immediately, scooping her up in a crushing hug.

"How was it?" she whispered.

"Amazing," Mirabel whispered back. "And sad too."

Luisa placed Mirabel gently on her feet and adjusted her glasses. "Camilo's already preemptively called a RDP for later," she said. "So you can tell us all at once." She reached behind Mirabel to slip her bag off her shoulders.

A RDP—Reunión de Primos. Mirabel was almost giddy at the thought—they hadn't had one of those with all of them present since the move.

"Awesome, when?"

"Probably sooner than later, so Antonio isn't up too late," Luisa said, adjusting Mirabel's bag under her arm. She frowned. "Unless you think he shouldn't come?"

"No, no, he can come!" Mirabel said. "I can keep it kid-friendly. Is, uh, is Mariano coming?"

A strange look passed over Luisa's face. "No," she said. "But I'll let Dolores explain why."

"Oooh-kay?"

"Mirabel!"

Julieta stepped onto the porch, wiping her hands on her apron. Mirabel hopped up to give her a hug.

"Hey, Mamá," she said. "Everything good?"

"Oh, you know," Julieta said. She smiled, but her eyes betrayed her exhaustion. "I'm glad you made it safe. Agustín nearly paced a hole in the floor all day today."

"I almost had to restrain him from going into town," Luisa said as she walked past them into the house.

Mirabel rolled her eyes. "So I took a later bus than planned, big whoop. I'm not a kid, Mamá."

Julieta rolled her eyes in return and pulled Mirabel in to kiss her cheek. "Ay, maybe so, but to me you'll always be mi bebé, mi preciosa, mi mariposita—"

"!"

Julieta laughed and released her. "Dinner just finished, but there's plenty of leftovers in the kitchen. Help yourself. Isabela already has your bed set up in the old room."

"Gracias!" Mirabel said, darting around her mother to beeline for the food.

She ran into Isabela just inside the door. Her sister grinned at her and flicked her fingers. A crown of heavy burro's-tail succulents bloomed on Mirabel's head, trailing down her face and knocking her glasses askew.

"Ay, Isa!" Mirabel said, batting the plants onto the floor and fixing her glasses.

Isabela laughed, already walking away. "Nice to see you too, Mira. Oh, fair warning: Abuela's been on the warpath all week."

Mirabel groaned. "Great."

As she passed the dining room, she saw her pá and Tía Pepa and Tío Félix sitting around the table, a deck of cards, a bottle of aguardiente, and several glasses between them. Mariano and Dolores sat across from them, heads together. Everyone looked up when they saw her.

"Miraboo!" Her pá stood, tripping over his own chair leg and nearly falling over himself before grabbing her into a hug. Pepa and Félix stood up as well, grinning at her.

Mirabel rolled her eyes at the nickname but happily hugged him back. "Sorry I'm so late," she said into his shoulder. She looked around him and waved. "Hola, Dolores."

Dolores waved back, watching her closely.

Uh oh.

Félix waved his hand behind them. "Pssshaw, you're here now. Gus can stop wearing a hole in my floor."

Agustín coughed. "Yes, well," he said, looking sheepish.

"Oh hush, amor," Pepa said, leaning over for her own hug. "Good to see you, chiquita."

Mirabel smiled. "Hola, Tía Pepa." She glanced up above her aunt's head and frowned.

No cloud? she thought. That's…weird…

"Was the bus okay?" Pepa asked, pulling back to examine her face. "No one bothered you?"

Oh, mierda. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," Mirabel said. Dolores' eyes narrowed and Mirabel laughed a little and looked away. She leaned away from her aunt and tried to smile at everyone. "But I'm starving so, uh, I'm gonna…grab some food. I'll see you all later?"

A chorus of goodbyes as the adults returned to their card game, and Mirabel finally made it to the kitchen.

Her Mamá and Tía and Abuela had obviously been hard at work all week, for the kitchen was stocked with enough food to feed a small army. Or a large wedding party, it was a toss up. She shoved some pandebono in her mouth and nearly inhaled a large bowl of lukewarm ajiaco before sitting back and sighing contentedly.

"Now, what won't fall apart immediately…" she murmured to herself, standing and walking around the kitchen to survey her options, before deciding on empanadas. Without any more fanfare, she wrapped them in napkins and began shoving as many as she could into the deep pockets of her skirt.

"Ay, Mirabel, mija, when did you get in?"

Mirabel froze, her hand deep inside her pocket. Slowly, she straightened her shoulders and turned to smile at her Abuela.

"Just now," she said, carefully withdrawing her hand. "Mariano picked me up in town—I took a later bus than planned, lo siento. But, I made it!"

Abuela smiled and folded Mirabel into her arms. Mirabel returned the embrace, trying to subtly keep her hips from pressing up against Abuela so she couldn't tell there were empanadas in her pocket.

"I'm glad you arrived safely," Abuela said, pulling away and tucking a stray curl behind Mirabel's ear. She touched her nieta's cheek briefly. "I know you're probably tired, so no need to answer now, but I wanted to ask for your help with a council matter viernes noche."

"Oh," Mirabel said. She shuffled. "What—what about the rehearsal dinner?"

Abuela clucked her tongue and waved her hand dismissively. "We will be done in plenty of time for dinner, lo prometo. Just—think it over. You know how much I value your insight in these matters."

"Sí, Abuela," Mirabel said, biting back a sigh. "I'll sleep on it."

"That's all I ask." Abuela nodded and gave Mirabel's cheek another pat. "Sleep well, mi mariposita."

"Buenas noches."

Abuela left the kitchen and Mirabel slumped, letting out a soft groan of frustration. Abuela may have sounded like she was waiting on an answer, but they both knew Mirabel would say yes.

It would take an act of God to get her out of that meeting.

"Ay, Mirabel, la Señorita Perfecta—"

Abuela had returned to the kitchen, one hand draped dramatically across her forehead. She leaned against the doorframe.

"You know how much I value your opinion in these important community matters of–of land dispute and tax evasion—"

Mirabel giggled and swatted "Abuela's" shoulder. "Tax evasion has never been a council issue, Camilo—"

Camilo transformed into himself, grinning from ear to ear. "Maybe it should be," he said. "I betcha ten pesos Señora García leaves a bunch of stuff off her claim." He grabbed Mirabel into a hug, thumping her back hard enough to make her wince. "Dios mío, it's been so boring here without you. How was it?"

"More than I expected," Mirabel said, slapping his back just as hard. "We have a lot to talk about."

Camilo released her with a crooked smile. "Can't wait. Literally, we're gonna start the RDP, like, right now."

"Yep, yes, coming!" Mirabel smiled at her cousin and adjusted the food in her pockets. "Where are we going?"

"Antonio's barn."

Mirabel froze, her heart dropping into her shoes. She barely heard Camilo say— "It was the best spot for maximum privacy. Dolores is gonna bring Antonio once Mariano goes home but I think Isabela and Luisa already walked over, I was just waiting for…you—you okay?"

Mirabel shook her head.

She ran.


Translations:

1. La Granja del Castillo - the Castillo's farm

2. Vamos - let's go, literally "we go"

3. Ajiaco - Colombian potato soup, essentially

4. Burro - donkey

5. Mi bebé, my preciosa, mi mariposita - my baby, my precious, my little butterfly

6. Aguardiente - hard liquor

7. Amor - love

8. Chiquita - a term of endearment, literally "petite"

9. Viernes noche - Friday night

10. Buenas noches - good night

11. Dios mío - oh my God