One change of clothes later, Isabela had all of her regular clothes bundled up and transferred to the laundry. She would get her mother's help to wash it later. For now, it was time for dinner. Isa washed up, scrubbing her hands and arms free of any potential chemicals before heading down to the dining room. She studied her hands as she went. The palms and fingernails of any person's hands were naturally much less pigmented, but Isa could've sworn she saw the start of light patches on each of her thumbs, near where they met her palms.

Dinner was a bit quieter than usual, and Dolores kept glancing at Isa with mild concern, eventually resulting in Isa shooting her an annoyed look in response. Obviously her cousin had overheard whatever discussion had happened between the elder Madrigals.

It was Augustín who ultimately turned the topic to the elephant in the room. "So, Isabela, how goes the plant rearranging? Did you figure out which one might be the problem?"

"Your plants are a problem?" Antonio asked his cousin innocently. "You can put some of them in my room if you want. The animals will make sure they behave."

Everyone at the table chuckled, including Isa.

Isa turned to her father. "No, I haven't yet. I've got my clothes in the wash, but I honestly don't know how to even begin narrowing it down to whatever plant it might be."

"Oh dear," Pepa said. "Are you allergic to one of your new plants?"

"Possibly."

Félix shoved a bowl in her direction. "Better eat up, then. You know how your papi gets when he so much as looks at a bee."

Augustín gave his brother-in-law a thoroughly annoyed look. Julieta chuckled and patted her husband's cheek.

"It's a different kind of reaction," Isa said. "I don't really understand it, but Mamá wasn't too concerned." She took a bite of her dinner. As with many of her mother's meals, it was heavy in wheat and cheese, and thus quite popular among all of the Madrigals.

Isa heard the distinctive sound of Abuela clearing her throat in the direction of someone she wanted to speak up. She glanced up at the matron, who was clearly nudging Bruno.

"Oh, right," Bruno said, producing the glass etched with his latest vision. He had it passed down to Isa. "So...what you're dealing with...I don't understand it or what's causing it anymore than you do, but I do know that if you don't figure it out soon...well, that could happen."

Isa studied the glass. She saw an older version of herself, rubbing vigorously at her knuckles and wearing a pained expression. Her skin appeared to be blotchy or patchy, though it was hard to tell due to the limited details available in the glass. The patchwork look of her face appeared mostly symmetrical. There was something about it that was oddly appealing to Isa.

"The extended version is that right now, whatever you're dealing with is mostly harmless, but it could become serious if it's not managed now," Bruno explained.

"How serious?" Julieta asked.

Bruno shrugged. "Serious enough to hinder her day to day life in later years, mainly when she's around our age. From there, well, I don't know. The further out I try to look, the fuzzier things get, and the more the time stream diverges. If you could call it a time stream, that is. It's not actually that much like a stream at all."

"Oh yeah?" Camilo asked. "What's it like?"

Bruno waved his hands around, as if trying to grasp at an adequate explanation. "Time is really more like...a big ball of...wibbly wobbly...timey wimey...stuff."

"Mmm, how concise and articulate," Pepa said sarcastically.

"Hey, I didn't ask to be some mystical being of the fourth dimension. I've never understood how time truly works. I simply understand it more than the average person—which isn't saying much."

"The point is," Abuela said firmly, "we need to be careful about what plants and allergens we allow in the house right now, until we can narrow down what's giving Isabela such trouble."

Isa nodded quietly as she passed the glass back up to her tío. Her parents took their turn to study it before handing it forward. Her sisters also tried to get a good look.

"Thank you for being honest with me about this, Tío Bruno," Isa said. "I was worried you had some devastating news for me. We're...all still learning not to assume the worst about your visions, you know."

Bruno gave her a reassuring smile. "So am I. Mostly I was worried you'd be really embarrassed."

Isa smiled. "Why, with as supportive a family as I have, my only worry is being overly smothered in love." She gestured around her, intending her words as a joke, but they also carried the warning not to baby her.

"Got it, no fussing," Félix said. "We'll respect that, won't we, mi amor?"

Pepa raised an eyebrow at him. "I'm not the worst offender," she said. "Talk to my sister."

"Only with my own kids," Julieta said innocently.

"No. Kidding." Luisa said. Over the years, she'd borne the brunt of Julieta's fussing over her injuries, because her work tended to result in not a few of them, though most were minor.

"Don't worry," Camilo said. "As the cousin who holds the role of honorary little brother, it shall be my sacred duty to do all of the hard work of annoying Isa whenever necessary."

"Do you enjoy spending the night outside, inverted in a cocoon of vines, primo?" Isa asked.

"Well, it might not always be me," Camilo said cheekily. "It could be one of your little sisters instead." He shifted to imitate Luisa and then Mirabel as he spoke.

"Younger sisters," Luisa corrected. "There's a difference."

"At least we can still accurately refer to our 'little' brother," Pepa said, reaching over to try and tussle said triplet's hair, only to have him pull back at the last second. Pepa and Julieta chuckled. Abuela smiled as well. It was an amusing fact that Bruno had somehow ended up shorter than both his sisters, preventing him from ever outgrowing the title of baby of the family. Amusing to everyone except Bruno himself, of course.

"I never did thank you, Camilo," Bruno said, grinning at his nephew.

"For what?"

"Calling me tall. Seven feet is a bit excessive if you ask me, but hey, I'll take it."

Camilo felt the red creep up his face. "Wait, you heard that?"

"You think Dolores is the only involuntary secret keeper in this family?" Bruno said with a shrug.

As conversation turned to Bruno's time living in the walls of Casita, Isa focused on her dinner, trading comments with Mirabel every now and then. But for some reason, her food seemed less appealing today. She felt...well, she felt as a lady should not discuss feeling in polite company, especially at the dinner table. She put a hand to her abdomen.

"You okay, Isa?" Mirabel asked in a low voice.

The two girls glanced in Dolores' direction to see if she had acknowledged them. She was looking at them, but quickly turned her glance toward the triplets, who were engaged in a good natured argument and teasing about some event that had happened in their childhood.

"Just...feeling a bit full, I suppose," Isa said. She politely set her fork down and picked up a napkin to wipe her mouth.

"Umm, Isa?"

"What?"

"That...spot on your lip? It seems bigger now."

Dolores couldn't help but give her signature yip as Mirabel made her pronouncement. This caught the rest of the family's attention, and suddenly all eyes were on Isabela.

Isa suddenly felt immensely uncomfortable. She forced a smile and made to get up. "Please excuse me, I need to see to something."

With that, she disappeared hurriedly from the dining room, leaving her family to be rather alarmed in her wake.

Isa was starting to grow frantic. The spot on her lip was quite prominent now. When she inspected her naval, she saw that that spot too had grown. Another look at her hands confirmed that they'd spread across the base of her thumbs. All since sitting down to dinner.

But how? Her mother's cooking cured all ills. Why, after cleaning and washing and eating magical food, had her skin gotten blotchier?

Other discomforts arose and Isa retreated to her bathroom.

After taking some time to compose herself, Isa prepared to rejoin her family at dinner. She was just about to open her door when there was a knock at it.

"Isa?" her father called. "Are you doing okay, mija?"

Isa opened the door and gave an apologetic look. "I'm sorry, Papi, I just...I don't know what's going on."

Augustín embraced her. "Hey, Tío Bruno says it's nothing to worry about right now, and it's something we can take care of."

"If we find the cause," Isa said. "He was very clear about that."

"We'll find the cause. We'll work together to figure it out."

Isa leaned into her papi's embrace. She stayed there a moment, enjoying the security. Then she said, "But what I don't understand is why Mamá's food didn't cure this...whatever this is. And now it's on my hands too." She turned her palms up.

Augustín studied them a moment before replying, "It's gonna take some sleuthing to figure out the cause of this. Maybe your mamá just needs to adjust her recipes to target this."

Isa gave a frustrated sigh. "I'd better see to my laundry," she said.

"Don't worry about it. Mirabel volunteered herself and Camilo to take care of it."

Isa raised an eyebrow. "Camilo? Has he ever washed so much as a sock at any point in his life?"

Augustín chuckled. "Well, he's gonna learn today."

"I'd pay money to see that."

Augustín laughed aloud at that. "Come on, mija, let's finish dinner."

"Actually, if it's all the same to you...I'd like to...do my own investigating. In here. Alone. For the rest of the evening."

Her father didn't seem pleased at the idea, but he acquiesced. "Alright. But be careful. Chart everything."

"Yes, Papi."

"Seriously, we need to take a scientific approach to this, or we'll never know what's happening."

"Yes, Papi," Isa repeated, sliding back into her room and pressing the door closed. "I'll let you know how it goes," she promised.

"I'll hold you to that!" Augustín shouted at the glowing wood. He ran a hand through his hair with an exasperated sigh, then turned to head back to the kitchen.