Chapter 11

50 years before Encanto


Alma stood in the crowd, staring blankly ahead as she held her three babies tightly to her chest. Her eyes were empty and her face streaked with dried tears. Alma was surrounded by people, but had never felt more alone.

The miracle casita in front of them had appeared out of nowhere. The golden glow from Pedro's candle shimmered across the land to create a small town, casitas and shops rising up out of the ground. The mountains themselves rose around them too, the ground rumbling beneath their feet as the Encanto came to life.

While the people around her gasped and stared ahead in wonder, Alma stayed silent.

Her eyes stared ahead, but she did not see the miracle. Instead, Alma saw fire. She saw flames burning and flickering from torches. She saw men on horseback, their reflections dancing across the rippling surface of the river. She saw fire reflected on water, and the glint of metal as a sword swung down. She saw her Pedro's gentle hands, open and peaceful in the air. The same warm, strong hands that held her, that stroked her hair and touched her face. She saw them drop lifelessly down, his body following with a splash. She heard the screams and cries of the people around her as his blood flowed down the river.

Somebody's hand touched Alma's back and she gasped, quickly shielding her children from the attacker. Alma closed her eyes and braced herself for someone to hurt her, but no one did. Reassuring words were spoken all around her. Alma tried to listen, but her head was clouded with the sounds of horses, of splashing water, of metal hitting flesh. Alma shuddered, breathing hard. It was too much. There were too many people. Her chest was tight and it felt like she couldn't get enough air.

Gentle hands guided Alma inside of the casita. She moved with the crowd, the voices around her muted and muffled as Alma kept forgetting where she was. Everywhere she looked she saw the mountains, the horses, the blood in the river.

As the people led her into a room of the casita, Alma felt like a ghost, watching her own body from a distance. Somebody tried to help Alma sit on the bed, but she slid to the floor. Nothing felt real anymore.

One of the people noticed a crib in the room. They reached down to help Alma with the babies, but the moment they tried to touch one of them Alma screamed out like she was being attacked. She backed up against the bed and cowered, holding her babies protectively against her chest and as she glared up, her wide eyes gleaming in pain. The person backed away, apologising.

Alma breathed hard and fast, her chest heaving for breath as she hid her children against her shaking body. There were so many people standing over her. It still felt like she was suffocating. Alma felt the thundering of hooves and heard the screams around her. She heard the swoosh of metal and the splash of water. Alma buried her face against her children, whimpering in fear. She had to protect them, she had to.

"Let's give her some space." A townsperson spoke, encouraging everyone to leave the nursery.

Someone placed Pedro's candle down in front of Alma on their way out. As the room became empty, Alma slowly looked up at the glowing candle, her face resting against her children as she watched it's warm glow. She thought of Pedro holding the candle, how his eyes would glitter as the flame reflected against them. She tried to imagine he was still here, smiling comfortingly across at her as he held the candle in his hands.

She remembered him holding a candle the day they had met, looking out across the crowd at her with a friendly wave. She remembered they way he'd laugh at her jokes, and stroke her hair. She remembered sitting together on the rooftop, her back against his chest and his breath in her hair as they watched the little lights of the festival twinkle below until the sun rose over them. She remembered the way his face looked in the golden light as they held eachother. Alma took a shaky breath. She would do anything to hold Pedro in her arms again.

There was a sudden sound of gallopping hooves clattering towards her. Alma quickly turned, but there was nothing there. She turned back, feeling confused and afraid. The candle in front of her glowed brighter, and the clacking sound continued. She looked around the room, tensed and ready.

The sound repeated, and this time Alma saw the floor moving in front of her - the tiles bouncing up and down and making clacking sounds. Alma shrieked, jumping back in terror. The tiles stopped immediately and the glow of the candle faded back to normal.

Alma sat very still, her chest heaving as she stared at the floor, but it did not move again. What was that? She sat watching the tiles for a very long time, waiting tensely, until exhaustion finally caught up with her and her head dropped down to rest against her babies, her eyes closing.


"Alma."

Alma woke suddenly at the sound of her name, her mind coming back to reality.

She heard the sound of crying, but when she opened her eyes she didn't see the river. It was bright and she was in a house that she didn't recognise. Alma blinked against the light and swallowed in confusion.

She heard more crying. She tensed up, bracing herself for danger.

"You're ok."

Alma jumped as she realised there was a hand on her shoulder.

"The children." The voice spoke. It was gentle and kind.

Alma looked up to see a young woman, sitting on the tiled floor in front of her and staring back. She had wavy brown hair and kind, tired eyes. One of her arms was wrapped in bandages.

"That's your name, isn't it?" The woman asked. "Alma?"

Alma nodded, feeling confused and disorientated.

"My name is Sofia Guzmán." The woman spoke softly. She looked Alma over in concern. "Have you been here all night?"

Alma stared back in silence. She wanted to speak, but found it hard to find her voice.

The crying continued, and Alma winced at the sound.

"They're hungry."

Sofia glanced down and pouted her lips, gesturing towards the three babies in Alma's arms, before glancing back up.

Alma stared down at their little faces, feeling comfort at the sight of them. She stroked a hand tenderly across their cheeks.

"They're hungry, Alma." Sofia repeated gently.

Alma nodded and stared back up, feeling her eyes harden with a sense of purpose. She knew what she needed to do.

She had survived because she needed to protect these children.

Shushing the three babies gently, Alma got ready to feed them, struggling a little to hold all three of them as she did so.

"Do you want me to help you?" Sofia asked, carefully holding a hand out. Alma backed away, holding her babies tighter and shaking her head.

Sofia nodded in agreement.

"I don't trust anyone either." She said, wincing a little as she got up. "Not anymore."

Sofia walked stiffly over to the door, before turning back.

"Good luck, Alma."


The people gathered together that evening to hold a ceremony, where the dead were buried. After that, they slowly began to rebuild their lives in their new Encanto. Alma wore a black shawl to the ceremony and stood with hard eyes as she watched them bury Pedro. When it was done she went back to the casita and she had not come out again since.

Every now and then townsfolk would come to bring her food, and every time they would find Alma in that same room they'd left her in the first night, holding her three children protectively as she watched the candle. Sofia Guzmán visited a couple times, encouraging Alma to try and come outside and see the sun, just for a little while. Alma would refuse, but when Sofia insisted it was good for the children she would agree. Alma would do anything for her children.


The sun rose over the mountains of the Encanto and began to shine through the windows of the casita. Alma slept in the nursery bed, her three children cuddled up closely in her arms. She rested her face against their heads and felt comforted by the smell of their hair and the softness of their little bodies. Next to the bed, the candle glowed warmly.

Clack-clack-clack.

Alma opened her eyes at the sudden sound.

Clack-clack.

She sat up, holding her babies close. They whimpered softly as the sudden movement woke them.

Alma watched with hard eyes as the floor of the casita started to move, the tiles bouncing and clacking just like they had on that first night. Alma's body stiffened as she watched defensively. It's all in your head, she told herself. It's not really there.

The clacking continued and Alma winced as she was reminded of the horses' hooves. She shook her head, refusing to allow those memories back in. No - Never again. Alma had to be stronger than that. She glared down at the tiles.

"Go away." She whispered to the tiles, her back pressed against the wall and her arms tight around her children. "Just go!"

The tiles stopped, then tilted to the side inquisitively. They popped back down, clattering across the room and reaching the bedside table, which now started to bounce, the candle rattling and bouncing on top of it as it glowed brightly.

Alma cried out, her first instinct being to rush over and protect Pedro's candle, but then she stopped, glancing down at the babies in her arms and choosing to protect them instead. She held them close to her body, away from the danger. The candle continued to bounce, almost playfully.

"You listen here..." Alma whispered to the room, her voice low. "I don't care what you are. You are going to leave this house!"

The curtains of the window flapped, and the tiles started to clack again.

"I mean it." Alma whispered again, her voice shaking. "You leave!"

The bed started to shake too now, the window opening and shutting. Alma exclaimed, looking around in horror, but then her expression hardened again. Alma refused to be afraid. She promised herself she would never be afraid again. Alma held her babies close and thought of Pedro. Her eyes flashed with protective anger.

"I said LEAVE!" Alma cried out, her voice echoing around the room.

The room stopped.

Alma looked around the room, breathing heavily. The babies in her arms started to cry. Alma turned her attention to them, kissing their faces.

"Shh... It's ok." She whispered. "I'm sorry. Mamá's here... Nothing will hurt you, I promise."


5 years later


"Mamí."

Alma stirred and her eyelids quivered at the sound of Julieta's little voice, but she was only half awake.

"Happy birthday, mija." Alma mumbled softly with a sleepy smile. She patted a spot on the bed next to Bruno and Pepa, who were sleeping with their arms around eachother and their faces touching.

"Come sleep a little more..."

"We can't, Mamí!" Julieta spoke again, her voice bright with excitment. "You gotta come see! The casita - it's alive."

"Hm?" Alma frowned, her eyes opening suddenly.

"The tiles were moving, Mamí." Julieta exclaimed, clapping one hand together quickly as if she were playing a castinet. "Like that!"

Alma sat up quickly. She turned to Julieta with wide eyes, her mind flashing back to the clacking tiles of that terrible night. Alma leant over to look at the floor of the room, but it was still and silent. She turned back, searching Julieta's face in concern. Her daughter smiled back excitedly.

"It was moving, Mamí!" She insisted. "It really was! It went into the foyer!"

Alma stood up, breathing slowly as she focused on maintaining composure. She refused to be afraid. Alma put her black shawl on, preparing herself for whatever was coming next. Beside her, Pepa and Bruno woke up too, looking up at Julieta with groggy confusion as she whispered to them excitedly.

"Show me." Alma spoke in a serious tone.


As they walked out into the foyer, Alma gasped.

Julieta was right, the casita had come alive. The tiles and windows started to clack as they entered, their percussion beating in harmony to create a musical rhythm. The three children laughed, running past Alma.

"Wait!" She cried, reaching forward to pull them back, but they were already in the foyer.

The three of them laughed and danced as the tiles spun them around and scooted them across the room playfully. They ran up the stairs and cheered as it turned to a slide and they slipped back down again. Alma watched in confuson. It was as if the house was playing with them. The children were overjoyed.

"Come on, Mamí!" Pepa laughed, running over and taking her hands.

"Oh," Alma spoke uneasily. "I couldn't- woah!"

The tiles slid under Alma's feet and danced her around too. She held tightly onto Pepa's hands, while her daughter shrieked and laughed, the casita moving their feet around under them. Alma wobbled stiffly, trying to resist it.

"Come on, Mamí!" Pepa grinned, her wirey little legs moving in time to the rhythm of the casita as she danced the champeta. "Like this!"

Bruno and Julieta came over too, delighted to see their mama joining in on the fun. They danced next to Pepa, the three of them in time to the beat of the casita.

The drumming of the house continued, and Alma felt her face soften into a smile as she watched the three shining faces before her. They were so happy. She sighed and shook her head at herself, before relaxing and joining in. The children shrieked in delight as their Mamá began to dance with them, her feet moving in time with theirs. As she let go and allowed the moment to happen, Alma smiled. She felt the happiest she had felt in a very long time.

After a while of dancing, the glowing candle rolled into the room and the music stopped. Alma reached down in surprise and picked it up. As she did so, the candle glowed and a light shone down from above her. She looked up to discover three doors on the upper floor starting to glow golden. Alma took a breath in amazement.

The candle's glow pulsed, and the tiles at the top of the stairs flapped up and down, as if they were waving at them. The children looked up at Alma, but she wasnt sure what to do. The triplets took eachother's hands and headed up the stairs excitedly. Alma held her breath as they did so, unsure what was going to happen next. She quickly followed, ready to defend her children at any cost.

The three children glanced at eachother, then reached forward and touched the doorknobs.