They were out of chocolate.

No matter how many times she searched the pantry or opened a cupboard door, that block of dark cocoa wrapped in wax paper wasn't going to suddenly materialize. Not even Casita herself could find a single crumb anywhere within her walls. And yes, Julieta had asked, numerous times.

The gift of healing through food wasn't as simple as most would assume. Not every wound was instantly mended, nor every ailment immediately cured, by taking a bite out of an arepa con queso made by Julieta Madrigal. A broken bone, for example, required food rich in calcium in order to set and heal fully. Postre de natas, or milk pudding, was an easy fix for that. Certain biological issues, on the other hand, required theobromine, most commonly found in chocolate.

But they were all out of chocolate.

Julieta sighed and shut the pantry door for the umpteenth time, resting her forehead against the smooth wood as she tried to collect her thoughts. She didn't even look up when long, twisted tendrils began to snake their way in through the kitchen window.

"Isabela, please," she moaned against the door. "Try to calm down."

This plea had the opposite effect, however, as even more vines writhed their way into the room and began to climb the walls. Blood-red aberrations of flowers bloomed everywhere and then instantly withered black, coupled with needle-like thorns.

Isabela paced the far side of the kitchen, muttering heatedly under her breath. Julieta turned her head to watch, unsure if it was wise to try to reason with her again. Before she could decide, however, Bruno entered the kitchen. Or rather, he tried to. Isabela was pacing so briskly at the threshold that he couldn't quite get around her. Whenever he moved the opposite way to pass her, she would turn around and cut him off. It was a lot like two people trying to pass each other on a narrow sidewalk.

"Uh, may I - can I just - por favor, Isa -"

Isabela stopped abruptly and rounded on her uncle with a growl. "You're in my way!" she snapped, shoving past him and storming out of the kitchen.

Bruno stared after her in shock, then looked at Julieta, confused. "Wait, who was in whose way just now?"

Julieta shook her head. "She's just having a bad day. And it doesn't help that there isn't a single crumb of chocolate in this entire house."

"Oh, are we all out?" Bruno glanced around the kitchen, eyeing the mess his niece had left behind. "Six of the rats have a birthday coming up, and I already promised them little chocolate cakes, so -"

"Didn't you just have a birthday party for your rats last week?" Julieta asked.

Bruno nodded. "That was two weeks ago, and a different litter." He chose a pear from the fruit bowl on the table and wiped it with the hem of his ruana before taking a bite.

"See, Mauricia's first litter is two weeks older than her sister Mercedes' first litter. And then three months later, they had their second litters just two weeks apart from each other again." He grinned. "Hey, kind of like when Pepa had Dolores and then you had Isabela right after, and then again with Camilo and Mirabel! Only with different fathers, of course. I'm pretty sure Mauricia and Mercedes' kids were all fathered by Refugio, the little scoundrel."

Julieta stared at him in disbelief. "Are you serious?"

Bruno shrugged and rolled his eyes. "I know, it's scandalous and cliche, but what are you gonna do? They're rats."

"I mean, have you been feeding all of our chocolate to your rats?"

Bruno cringed at her tone. "Not all of it. I left some for the kids. Er, yours and Pepa's kids."

Julieta huffed and put her hands on her hips. "Well, there's none left now, and I need it today." Despite her stress, her tone and features began to soften as she regarded her brother. "Could you please go to the market and get some, Bruni?"

He couldn't possibly refuse. Not when she looked at him that way. Not when she was calling him by his childhood nickname. And certainly not when he bore some blame for the sudden and devastating lack of chocolate in Casita.

Bruno smiled and nodded. "Of course. I'll go right now."

An angry shriek came from somewhere upstairs, startling the two.

"OUT OF MY WAY, YOU LITTLE RAT!"

For a split second, Bruno looked alarmed, but then he saw Camilo fleeing down the staircase, pummeled by exploding plant spores in a variety of colors. A moment later, Julieta was pushing him toward the door.

"Please hurry!" she begged.


It had been nearly an hour since Bruno had left the house. The village marketplace was only a twenty-minute walk roundtrip. He must have decided to browse or strike up a conversation with a vendor. That had to be why he was taking so long.

Julieta broke a withered bloom from a vine as she peered out the window, waiting for him to return. She hadn't wanted to embarrass her daughters, but perhaps she should have told Bruno just how urgent the situation was. Then maybe he'd have been back by now.

A soft groan tugged at the mother's heartstrings. She looked over at the table where Mirabel was hunched over, head resting atop her folded arms. That time of the month was particularly difficult for her youngest daughter, whose cramps were almost debilitating at times.

The sound of hurried footsteps brought Julieta's attention back to the window. Bruno was jogging toward the house, a white package tucked under his arm. Finally!

Moments later, he was standing in the kitchen, breathlessly handing Julieta a tightly wrapped block of dark chocolate.

"Gracias, Bruno! Dios mio, what took you so long?"

"Sorry, sorry!" he exclaimed, already looking thoroughly chastised. "I couldn't find chocolate anywhere! I must have asked everyone and their cousin twice, but it was like the entire village was out! I guess that storm last month was worse than we thought, because the market was low on a lot of supplies: flour, molasses, corn… all out right now. Poof! Gone. Just like that." He spread his hands out and waved his fingers for effect.

Julieta paused in unwrapping the package to look at him. "Then where did you get this?"

"Oh! That. Right." Bruno nodded emphatically, causing his peppered curls to bounce. "Heh, well, I finally broke down and told Señora Alvarez that it was that time again and that we were desperate, and guess what? She took me to her house and gave me a big chunk of chocolate, straight from her pantry! Refused to take any payment. I would have stayed to argue, but I knew I'd better hurry back here before things got any worse."

Julieta stared at her brother, stunned by his explanation. "How did you know?"

Bruno smirked. "You're really asking a clairvoyant that?"

A quiet moan caught his ear, and he looked toward its source. Mirabel was slumped over the table now, her face buried in her arms. Bruno studied her for a moment, then looked back at his sister, eyes full of concern.

"Cramps?"

Julieta nodded. "She gets them really bad sometimes, just like I used to."

"Mooom!" Mirabel hissed, raising her head to shoot her mother a look of betrayal. "Why are you telling him?"

Julieta smiled gently. "It's okay, mija. He understands."

"Ugh." Mirabel buried her face again.

Her mother sighed and turned her attention back to the package. "I'll make you a hot chocolate con queso. How does that sound? It will only take a few minutes for the chocolate to melt."

A faint groan in the affirmative was all Julieta needed to hear.

With his sister busy at the stove and his niece moping at the table, Bruno found himself standing awkwardly between the two, unsure whether he should go or stay. He gripped the hem of his ruana, absently playing with the fringe as he considered his place. With some resolve, he pulled out the chair opposite Mirabel and sat down, folding his arms on the tabletop. He said nothing, simply watching the girl as she suffered in silence.

Face still buried, Mirabel's glasses had long since been pushed up to rest on top of her head. To Bruno, it looked like there was a fluffy little creature nestled in her arms, staring back at him through green-rimmed spectacles. He chuckled quietly. The crumpled form before him swelled, taking a deep breath and letting it out in a huff.

"It's not funny."

Bruno sat up straight. "Oh no, of course not! Sorry. I wasn't laughing at you, Mirabel. I was just thinking about… how much you remind me of your mother when she was your age."

The girl raised her head slightly, one curious eye peeking out between ebony curls. "Really?"

Bruno nodded. "Really. Why, when she first started getting her monthly -"

" Gah! " Mirabel groaned loudly and buried her face even further into her arms. " I don't want to hear this!"

Bruno stifled a laugh and picked a mango from the fruit bowl. "Yep, exactly like her. She didn't take it that well, either." He took a bite. "Your Tía Pepa? Even worse. You think her storms are bad now? Pffft!"

"Mooom! Make it stop!"

"The chocolate's just melting now, cielita. Hang in there!" Julieta chirped, stirring frantically at the stove.

Mirabel sat up and waved an arm dramatically. "I mean make him stop talking about… about…"

"Periods?" Bruno supplied.

An awkward silence filled the kitchen.

Mirabel dropped her arm and stared in absolute disbelief at her uncle. "Papá can't even say that word, and he has three daughters!"

"Your papá was an only child growing up," Julieta reminded her. "And a sheltered one, at that. Tío Bruno grew up with two sisters. He didn't have any choice but to learn about it right along with us, and we didn't make it easy for him, either!"

Bruno nodded. "It's true, Mira. When they realized I wouldn't be suffering along with them every month, your ma and tía both let me have it! And anyone who teased me about getting beat up by girls also got beat up by them."

Mirabel turned her look of horror onto her mother. "Mom! You used to beat people up? I thought you were all about healing!"

Julieta shrugged. Her normally nurturing smile suddenly seemed deceptive. "To be fair, if I split a lip or blackened an eye, I always made up for it with a batch of cocadas."

"Hmph. Where were those when I needed 'em?" Bruno muttered.

"You know you didn't need them as much as we did, Bruni."

"Eh, maybe not, but don't forget whose idea it was to start putting chocolate in them!" He waved a finger at her and winked.

Julieta rolled her eyes, giving him a good-natured smirk. She turned to Mirabel. "Bruno noticed that Pepa and I always craved chocolate around that time of the month, so one day he asked me why I didn't cook with it more during that time. So, I gave it a try, and it made all the difference in the world!"

"Especially for me!" Bruno quipped. "When they stopped suffering, I stopped suffering. Only downside was, there was rarely any chocolate left over for me."

Julieta stepped over to the table and set two mugs down: one for her daughter, and one for her brother. "I think there's just enough left over for you this time," she cooed, smiling at him fondly.

Bruno smiled back. He helped himself to a few cubes of mozzarella cheese from the plate she offered and dropped them into his mug. Next came a saucepan steaming with milk and dark melted chocolate, which Julieta carefully poured.

Bruno sipped slowly at the hot drink, savoring its rich, heavenly taste. A taste he hadn't known since long before his self-imposed exile. He watched Mirabel all but chug hers down without pausing for breath, thankful that his childish grin was hidden behind his mug.

With a deep, contented sigh, Mirabel lowered her mug. Her eyes slipped shut. Though she now sported a chocolate milk mustache identical in shape to her father's, her face was the picture of serenity.

Julieta rubbed her shoulder. "Feel better now, dulcita?"

Eyes still closed, Mirabel nodded.

Bruno smiled. "I feel better, too."

Julieta raised a brow. "What was wrong with you?"

"Sympathy pain." Bruno shrugged. He picked up his mug and swirled a finger around the inside of the rim, collecting chocolate. "You know I don't like to see anyone suffer, especially in person. Visions are bad enough."

Julieta nodded sagely. It was almost too easy to dismiss his words when he spoke so nonchalantly; even more so while he was sucking melted chocolate from his fingers. But she understood. Bruno's gift had always been a burden, and no amount of hot chocolate con queso could ever even begin to lighten the load.

As adolescents, Julieta and Pepa often complained in bitter whispers about "the curse" while casting resentful glares at their brother. It never really occurred to either of them that Bruno had had his own curse to bear, and from a much younger age. And while their own curse would be mercifully lifted with time, Bruno's would remain with him for life.

He saw things with disturbing regularity that no grown man should be forced to see, let alone a child. His gift had made him an empath, it was true, but at a price that neither of his sisters would have wished upon him had they understood his struggle sooner. Those eyes had seen too much pain, too much green, and not nearly enough warmth and gold in the world.

A pair of female voices, rising against each other in anger somewhere outside, brought Julieta's thoughts back to the present. She peered out the nearest window to see Isabela and Luisa arguing heatedly as they stormed toward the house.

After a moment, Isabela moved in front of Luisa, rounding on her with her hands on her hips, blocking her sister's path. Luisa picked her up with one hand and moved her aside, only to have her arm ensnared by vines springing up out of the ground.

"Oh dear…"

Bruno heard the ruckus and looked over at his sister. "Them too?"

Julieta turned from the window with a palm on her forehead. "I forgot!" she groaned. "I didn't make enough for all three!"

"Maybe we can distract them while you make some more?"

Bruno glanced over at Mirabel, but the girl was already scrambling from her seat to avoid getting caught in the crossfire. She managed to escape just in time. A moment later, Bruno nearly jumped from his own seat when Luisa stomped into the kitchen, broken vines wound tightly around both arms. Isabela flounced her way in right after. They sat down at opposite ends of the table, glaring daggers at each other.

Bruno found himself in the middle, sitting perpendicular between the fuming sisters, a scenario he wasn't wholly unfamiliar with. He drummed his fingers on the table, nervously glancing from one girl to the other.

"So, uh, tough time of the month, huh?"

In the silence that followed, one could have heard a pin drop. Two livid faces turned to stare at him in unison. Bruno paled.


"Try to hold still, Bru."

"I'm trying! Honest. Ow! What kind of flowers have thorns like this? They're worse than roses!"

"Bougainvillea. She's been favoring them lately."

Julieta pulled another thorn from Bruno's cheek and dabbed a damp cloth at the single bead of blood that popped up in its place.

"Just one more to go."

Bruno crossed his eyes to focus on the final thorn, lodged firmly in the tip of his nose. He swallowed. "Can't I drink this first?" he asked nervously, indicating the contents of his mug, now clenched in a death grip against his chest.

Julieta shook her head. "Not unless you want your nose to heal around the thorn, which will only make it harder to extract."

"Er, no. No thank you."

Julieta reached for the thorn, but Bruno held a hand up. "Wait! Not ready!"

He rapped his knuckles on the table five times in a row, followed by a single rap to the top of his head. Julieta raised her hand again, but Bruno blocked her by grabbing the salt shaker from the table and giving it a couple of forceful shakes over his shoulder.

Julieta smirked. "Ready now?"

Bruno looked hesitant. After a moment, he took a deep breath and held it, puffing out his cheeks. Eyes shut tight and fingers crossed, he finally nodded.

Julieta sighed. Some things never changed. She pulled the thorn quickly. Before Bruno could even yelp, she was already pressing the damp cloth to the end of his nose.

"Th-thanks," he murmured sheepishly. He then moved the cloth aside so he could down the last of his hot chocolate con queso. Despite it being cold now, it did the trick. The pain in his face was already gone.

"I hope you won't try to broach that subject with the girls again anytime soon," Julieta chided, "because you're on your own next time!"

Bruno blushed, but managed a self-deprecating chuckle. "Oh, no! I've learned my lesson! And luckily I don't need a vision to figure out approximately when 'next time' will be!"

"Thanks for trying, though. Agustín gets queasy at the mere mention of blood."

Bruno shrugged. "Heh, what can I say? Some guys can handle it, some can't."

Julieta smirked again. "And you grew up with girls."

Bruno smirked back, his green eyes glinting with that rare spark of gold. "Why do you think I can handle it?"

THE END