Chapter Four: Identity Crisis 2.0 Because Apparently, I've gone through this before.

Everyone was looking at me, Tio Bruno looked confused while Mama looked alarmed, and Isabela and Luisa just looked puzzled.

"What?" I demanded, "That's Bruno, standing right in front of us. He even mentioned having a vision, so what else would I call him but Tio? He's your brother Mama."

"Great," Isabela groaned, "We're going to have to go through Mirabel's identity crisis all over again. Well at least this time around she isn't hiding the fact that she's sick from us," she paused turning to me, "You aren't sick are you?" she asked.

I shook my head, "What are you even talking about? What identity crisis, and what does it have to do with Tio Bruno?"

Mama groaned, "I should have realized that someone was going to bring this up. I really hoped that I didn't have to tell you this. You didn't take it well the first time I told you."

"Honestly we probably should have told you earlier, once you were old enough to understand," Bruno added.

"Well?" I asked, quirking an eyebrow, "The way you're going on, you'd think that Bruno was my Papa or something."

"That's because I am your father," Bruno protested, "You haven't called me Tio in four years, you always call me Papi now. Papa being reserved for Agustin. What's going on here Juli?"

"When Mirabel hit her head, it affected her memory, we don't know just how much memory is missing, but we know for sure that she doesn't remember Antonio's gift ceremony or anything that happened after that."

"Therefore she doesn't remember the revelation that she's adopted," Bruno, Papi, Bruno, announced, "That explains the look of utter confusion on her face."

"Can you stop talking to me like I'm not here?" I asked, "And please explain what's going on," I turned to Mama, "I'm adopted?"

Mama nodded her head, "The story is more complicated than that, but yes, Mija, you are adopted."

I turned to Bruno, "You didn't want me?"

"What no, giving you to Julieta and Agustin was the hardest thing I ever did."

"Then why did you give me up," I demanded "Why did you leave me? If you were my father then why when my world turned upside down, did you leave?" My eyes were burning. I had heard the rumors after my failed gift ceremony. On how I was adopted, and that was why I didn't get a gift. Mama had always assured me that they were just grasping at straws, trying to find a reason why I didn't have a gift. But they had been right, I had been adopted. Was that really why I didn't get a gift all those years ago?

I was about to cry, my eyes were stinging and burning, but I was not going to cry in front of Isabela. Sure they had all said that things had changed, but how could I trust them when they had lied to me my entire life. I was not going to give Isabela ammunition against me.

I ran, I ran as fast as I could up to the nursery, Luisa called up after me, but I ignored her as I flung the door open and ran inside.

The room looked different, same green wallpaper, but the furniture was different, not by much, but my bed had bright orange blankets on it, and a stuffed dragon sitting on it, while on the other side of the room, Antonio's side, was a crib set up, but obviously empty.

All of my stuff wasn't there, my pillow, my blanket, my sewing machine, everything was missing. Why was everything missing? What was up with today, first everyone, including Abuela, was being nice to me. Then I learned that I was missing five years of memory, although the way they were acting, I might as well be in some alternate reality. Now not only was Mama not my Mama but all of my stuff was gone. Where did they go, did they kick me out of Casita for some reason, what happened here?

"Mira?" a soft voice called out behind her, "Mira, I'm going to place my hand on your shoulder, okay,"

I looked up, Dolores didn't look that different from what I remembered, maybe a little older, and obviously pregnant, but her hair was done in the same way as it always was, and she wore the same style of blouse and skirt that she always did.

"I…I…" I didn't know what to say, everything was wrong. Everything. Mama wasn't actually my mama, Tio Bruno was my papa. Isabela and Abuela were being nice to me, and Luisa, well, Luisa was really pretty much the same, just more her, and saying no. She had always tried her best to make time for me, to be a good Hermana Mayor, only she wasn't my Hermana Mayor, was she?

Dolores frowned, "Does it really matter who you come from? Or what title your familia hold. Is a Prima really different from a Hermana?"

"I don't know," I muttered, "I really don't know."

"You didn't know the first time you heard this either," Dolores explained, "I know that you had a hard time with this the first time around, and I can't imagine having to go through this a second time, so I'm going to tell you the same thing I told you last time. I don't care if you're Bruno's daughter or Julieta's you're still my prima and I will always be there for you when you need me."

"Okay?" I said, giving her a look, I really didn't know what to do.

"Look, I can tell you what happened twenty years ago that lead to you being raised by Tia Julieta instead of Tio Bruno, but I think you should hear it from them. Trust me when I say, Tio Bruno was just thinking about you and wanted you to be happy and well cared for."

I looked at Dolores and stared at her for a moment, trying to judge rather or not she was lying to me. I couldn't think of any reason for her to lie, and if anyone knew the truth of why Bruno gave me to Julieta to raise, it would be Dolores. Then again Dolores might know more about it than she was letting on.

"How long have you known?"

Dolores smiled softly, "Same as you, five years, Isabela discovered one of your Mama's old diaries while we were cleaning up after the earthquake. That's how we all learned that you were adopted."

"But Mama isn't my Mama," I pointed out.

"What makes a Mama, Mama?" Dolores asked, "Do they have to give birth? Or do they have to love unconditionally?"

I looked up at her surprised, "When did you get so wise?" I asked, absentmindedly wiping at my eyes, she had a point, Mama and Papa had been nothing but loving and caring to me.

"I'm not wise, I'm just a Mama myself now," Dolores insisted, picking up a stray toy and putting it in the toy box, "I know that the most important part of being one is the love you give the child," Dolores gave me a soft, understanding look, before holding out her hand, offering it to me, "You'll feel better in your room you know."

"My room?" I asked.

"When we rebuilt Casita, we gave you your own room," Dolores offered me her hand again, "Come on, you should at least get out of your swimsuit."

…

Dolores lead me past her door, then Camilo's, I stopped at the next door and stared at the picture on it, "Huh," I said, "Tonito's sure is getting big," and he was, the picture of him on his door, showed that he was at least a foot taller than what he had been from what I remember.

"Yeah he sure is," Dolores insisted, shaking her head, "Oh, just a heads up, he has a pet jaguar named Parce, he likes to ride it around, just so you don't have a heart attack when you see him on top of a jaguar. Parce is harmless."

I nodded, not sure how I felt that my roommate had a cool gift and I didn't. His fifth birthday must have been so stressful for all of us.

Dolores turned the corner, leading me past Tia Pepa's door, then Abuela's, before leading me past Julieta's. Why was she leading me past Mama's door? There was nothing past Mama's door but the stairs to Tio Bruno's Tower… and another glowing door.

The door was situated halfway between Mama's door and the stairs to Bruno's tower, and on the door was a picture of me, smiling, with butterflies surrounding me. I had a door.

Dolores nodded to it, indicating that I should open the door. I wanted to, I really, really did… but what if it faded away like last time.

Dolores must have guessed what I was thinking, or maybe I spoke aloud, or maybe she really could read people's minds, but she gave me a sympathetic look and called out, or more like whispered, "Casita, can you open Mirabel's door for her?"

And it did, the door opened, and I was greeted by the sight of, well, a seamstress shop, bolts of fabric stacked as high as they would go, spools of thread in every color, buttons, a sewing machine, a large table, and mannequins wearing several different outfits in various stages of completion.

"This is my room?" I asked, glancing around, it was perfect. The tiles on the floor tapped out a greeting to me as Dolores lead me farther back. Just like the other rooms, except for Abuela's, it was bigger on the inside. Soon enough we came to a step, a single wooden step that lead to a plain polished wood floor, in the corner was a piano, guitar, and accordion.

"What is this supposed to be?" I asked, sweeping my gaze at the bare floor.

"It's a dance floor," Dolores explains, "You actually really enjoy dancing."

"I know that," I exclaimed, "Just didn't know that I enjoyed it enough for you guys to add a dance floor to my room."

"Ask Casita," Dolores insisted, "She's the one that added it, honestly when we built it, it was just the bedroom, everything else was Casita."

"Sure," I said, "Blame the house for everything, I get it."

Dolores rolled her eyes, before pulling me across the dance floor to another step, this one carpeted. I took a step up and glanced around, this was the bedroom. It was a simple enough bedroom, there was a bed, dresser, couch, an armchair, a little reading nook, and a window seat.

"Wow," I confessed, staring at Dolores, who squeaked, "Lunch will be ready in a couple of minutes," she confessed, "So once you're done changing you should come down to the dining room."

A/N: So quick question, do you want to stick to Mirabel's point of view, or do you want to spread out to the rest of the Family?