Dolores heads back to the dining room and tries to find a place to sit among the overturned dishes, spilled wine, and rain puddles. She makes a face at the mess and briefly considers getting a head start on the cleanup – it is kind of her fault. She halfheartedly stacks plates and scrubs at half-set stains for a little while without making much headway. Giving it up as a loss, she falls into one of the chairs closest to the portrait, stares up at it, and lets her thoughts roam.

There's a lot she wants to say to her uncle.

I loved you. I missed you. I hated you. I mourned you.

There's a lot she needs to hear from him, too.

I never stopped loving you. I should have trusted you. I'm sorry.

There's ten years of heartache and longing and lost love in the small, uneven footsteps that find their way into the bolt-hole some time later. He falls against the wall and cries for a full minute, the same hot tears she shed last night that want you to hope so badly you can't breathe.

There's a lot of pain hidden in them.

You didn't even say goodbye!

But there's still yet more promise.

It's about time I came home.

"She's a good kid." She says to the faded portrait as he collects himself. "You'd be proud of her."

His voice is husky with emotion. "I am. Of all of you."

Silence falls between them, and more words from last night creep in.

I can't keep pretending. You can't keep pretending.

She still doesn't want to open her heart, doesn't know if she can or should or will let him back in, because if she does and if he... It would break them in so many ways that they couldn't be put back together.

She doesn't want him to stay gone, but she doesn't know if she's ready for him to return.

And she doesn't want him to return, but she can't go another day with him gone.

He shuffles over to the peep hole, and they are right back where they started, sleep deprived and scared. She searches the green eyes for comfort and finds confusion, for courage and finds fear. There's so much hanging in the air, so many secrets, so many desires and half-truths burying the path home like overgrown brambles that snag at the ankles. Each step forward has a cost, and truthfully, she doesn't know if they can do it.

But she also knows the only way home is through the thorns, through the misunderstandings and heartaches and all, because she's old enough to know they can't pretend away the past ten years.

So, with a deep breath, she sets her eyes on him and takes the first step.

"I waited for you."

"I know."

"I waited and waited."

"I know."

The tears that never seem to end prickle at her eyes. "No one believed me. No one listened to me. They all wanted to be so angry at you."

"I know." His voice drops lower with each acknowledgment.

"And we couldn't talk about...anything, and they started to forget, and I c-couldn't...I couldn't..." She swallows thickly. "Loving you hurt so much sometimes, but I couldn't not do it."

"I know." His voice is barely above a whisper.

"And then you came back, and it was...wonderful."

"...and then I left again..." He takes a deep breath and holds it, and she knows he's trying not to break down again. "Do you hate me for it?"

"Did you mean what you said?"

He lets the silence grow as he navigates the thicket. She's drawn first blood, and now, he has to decide if the pain is worth what's at the end.

"Ten years is a long time." He says after a while. "A long time for wounds to fester. Most people are too far gone to go back to those places."

"Are you one of them?" She asks him quietly.

"I – are they?"

"They miss you. I know you know that. Come home, Tío." She repeats. "We're a family...we're your family. We'll – we'll figure it out. We'll get through it together."

"Family is complicated, mi muñeca."

"It is, but it's...intentional. You love each other, you mess up, and you work on it."

"Would that everyone was as wise as you. The world would be a better place for it."

She dimples. "I'll start with my home being a better place, if you'll let me."

She leaves her seat and comes right up to the peep hole, holding her face so close their noses could touch if not for the wall. She lays her fingertips just inside it, interlacing their hands. "¿Tienes miedo?"

He gives her fingers a brief squeeze in answer, and she tightens her hold on him. "But you still love us. And it makes you the best tío to love us even when you're afraid."

"I never stopped loving you all." He says softly. "I should have trusted you. I'm sorry."

Joy and anticipation shove her heart up into her throat, but love pulls her lips back in a smile. "There's nothing to forgive except the lack of hot chocolate, but I think we'll manage."

He gives a watery chuckle.

"Come home."

"I - "

WHAT IS GOING ON!?

Dolores jumps back from the wall, scraping her knuckles raw against the rough wood planks as she jerks her hand away. She spins around, eyes darting around the deserted dining room, heart pounding.

She doesn't need her Gift to follow the argument into the courtyard, and neither does anyone else in the family. Abuela and Mirabel circle each other, those ten years of rage and terror and pain burning down everything in their path, flames strengthening as Abuela lays out every blame at Mira's feet.

"The cracks started with you. Bruno left because of you. Luisa's losing her powers. Isabela's out of control because of you! I don't know why you weren't given a Gift, but it is not an excuse for you to hurt this family!"

She didn't, she didn't, she didn't. comes Bruno's frantic whispering. It was me, it was me, it was me.

Mirabel blinks, gazing dispassionately through the ashes. "I...will never be good enough for you...will I?"

No! No, no, no!

Tío bolts, pit-pat-pit-pat-pit-pat, as fast as he can through the hidden corridors, racing the cracks that spread rapidly across doors, walls, windows, and floors. Everywhere she looks, the house is crumbling, the Magic is crumbling, her hope is crumbling.

Casita groans, bricks and wood shattering like broken bones, and the pain of it makes her head rattle. She grasps at her ears, trying to shut out the sounds of dying, when it enters its death throes and lobs the family out of the door and onto the hard packed earth.

It shudders one more time and falls, a ringing silence swallowing the last breath she strains to hear.