It had been almost half a year since his birthday and, apparently, everything was still the same, but the words he said to me that night had been running through my head day after day, hour after hour, as I tried to give them the logical and sensible meaning and not the one I actually wanted to believe.

"Isabela… Do you think I look anything like a rat? Might it be that they know how to listen, perhaps?"

"You look like a rat in that they eat a lot, Mirabel. What do you want?"

"Hey! I move a lot, okay? I need a lot of energy to keep up that pace."

"Whatever… Happy birthday."

Isabela extended her hands and a small rat-shaped cactus appeared in them.

"Birth… Today is my birthday?!"

"What world do you live in?!"

"Is that for me?"

"What?"

"The cactus."

"It was to mess with… bah, it doesn't matter. Yes, it's for you."

"Thank you!"

I took my peculiar cactus carefully and not pricking myself more than five times and went back into my room to put it in an area with good light.

"It doesn't need light, it's magical."

"But, like this, the green shines more."

"You seem in a good mood. You seemed irritated yesterday."

"Yeah… I'm going through a difficult streak."

"Love makes everything complicated, doesn't it?"

"Love?! Where did you get something like that?!"

"Mirabel, please…"

My sister rolled her eyes and I knew that hiding it was useless.

"Who has told you?" I whispered somewhat concerned about the level of diffusion that the news was having.

"I don't need anyone to tell me. I'm not blind. When are you gonna tell him?"

"Are you nuts?! Never!"

"Why? That way, at least when he rejected you, you'd be in the same mood every day. It is very annoying to see how you change your mood constantly."

"Wait, I don't…"

"You see him laugh? Those gigantic hearts that make me want to throw up are drawn in your eyes; he gets more melancholic? You become about to cry; he sits far from you? I can almost see the storm upon you like tía Pepa's; you see him rubbing his neck? We are all dragged out of the house by a torrent of drool. Seriously, it is gross."

So yes, it was as obvious and, what was worse, it was as disgusting as I thought. I wasn't ready to hear that and, probably, the ridiculously moody I'd felt during those weeks didn't help at all: I burst into tears.

"Hey… Mirabel," Isabela began to say in an almost frightened tone and putting on a sad face mixed with the typical expression of having gotten into trouble. "I was just joking. Don't take it so bad."

Isabela hugged me then with a tenderness that I hadn't received from her in a long time.

"You are fifteen!"

"Sixteen."

"Yeah, sixteen. You are within your rights to fall in love, and feel lost, and not know what the hell to do, and limit yourself to mulling everything a lot and letting your world revolve around him."

"Isn't it disgusting?"

"It's not disgusting. It's annoying, but normal."

"It is not normal; it is not logical that I fell in love with him."

"Hey, love isn't ruled by logic, okay? If it were so, I would have fallen in love with Mariano."

"What logic would falling in love with Mariano have?"

"Says the girl who fell in love with the ratguy?"

"The ratguy… is a good guy."

"I know. And if anything I said to you before was serious, it's that I think you should tell him."

"That's not funny," I replied, fixing my gaze on her penetrating and laughing cat eyes.

"No, it's not. But, if you want to get over it, you have to talk it over with him."

"He's gonna reject me, and he's gonna get scared of me."

"That would be the most normal reaction, yes, but… again, he's the ratguy, you know?"

"What if he rejects me?"

"It will hurt and, as time passes, you will get over it."

"And, if he doesn't reject me?"

"Then… your current mood swings will seem like the dumbest of problems to you."

"Yeah… thanks for the chat, very soothing," I replied sarcastically.

"That's what sisters are for," she said winking at me maliciously. "And now, get a move on: we have a birthday to celebrate."

It still seemed unbelievable to me that I could talk to Isabela like that, and every time I did, it mysteriously lifted my spirits. But would she be right? Should I tell him how I felt? No way! Where was I going to get the courage from? She said that I would get over it, but… could I really live happily knowing that the person I loved felt disgusted by my feelings? Because, let's face it, as weird as he was, as much as he trusts me to open his heart, or as magical as the feeling is every time our hands touched… I couldn't expect that to be anything more than family treatment for him. Probably, he had simply found in me someone who did not judge him for his gift and, therefore, he felt comfortable with me. He could also feel comfortable with some rats, or with an armchair… That wasn't love.

"Now that we're all together, I have some news."

"Dolores," Abuela said interrupting my cousin's unexpected speech. "A few words for Mirabel, maybe?"

"Oh, sure. Happy birthday, Mirabel."

"Thanks…"

"I'm leaving the Encanto."

"What?!"

Dolores covered her ears stunned by the general commotion that her unexpected announcement had caused.

"Dolores, what are you saying?" Pepa asked as the wind began to stir among us.

"Mariano and I broke up a few weeks ago."

Camilo and I automatically shared a look of relief and guilt that no one else would have known how to read, and then we looked away, making sure not to further damage the general mood.

"But, Dolores, maybe you can work it out if you talk it out calmly," Felix suggested as he caressed the palm of his frightened wife's hand.

"I don't want to work things out, papá. There is nothing to fix."

I could see out of the corner of my eye how Bruno looked down sadly. What was all that about? And, really? There wasn't another day to talk about it?

"Dolores," Abuela interrupted again but more emphatically this time. "This is not the time to deal with this topic. I remind you that today is M…"

"There is no other time, Abuela, I'm leaving tomorrow."

The snow hit hard and began to bury the dishes waiting on the table.

"Dolores, if this is because of Mariano," Abuela tried to say struggling in to keep a calm tone.

"It's not because of Mariano, Abuela. I don't love him. In fact, I put up with him less and less. Even more, he's been dating another woman for a couple of days and I don't even care."

Another one? Seriously, what did they see in him?

Isabela seemed to read my thoughts and had to hide her laughter with a clumsy cough.

"He, obviously, doesn't love me either: there's nothing to save. But I don't have that much left for being twenty-three, and there's no one in the whole town who catches my eye. I've listened to every minute of their lives for almost eighteen years and I know I will never find love here. Now that the Encanto is open, I want to leave and look for someone to be happy with. Is that so strange?"

The snow began to thaw slowly.

"But Dolores, cariño, we don't know how dangerous the world out there can be. Remember why we ended up here."

"I know, Abuela, but… I can't let my life slip away waiting for someone to magically appear as tío Bruno did. Oh, sorry, tío."

"No… it's… okay."

What the heck?! That had been an unnecessary attack. She was right, though. If Bruno had been more sociable, I would probably now be in love with a married man with children. My hair stood up like spikes just thinking about it…

"I'll go with her."

What?!

"Isabela, what are you…?" my mother asked, clearly worried.

"I've always been curious about the world outside the Encanto. Maybe it's time to find out what's beyond those mountains, don't you think? If I go with her and it turns out to be a dangerous place, I can protect ourselves."

"How do you know that magic is going to work outside the Encanto?" Camilo asked more serious than I had ever seen him.

"I'll try, and, if it doesn't work, we'll come back."

"I don't know, mi vida," my mother said still somewhat piteous. "It's very dangerous. I won't be able to heal you from here and I can't abandon everyone here to follow you either."

"Don't worry, mamá," Luisa answered decisively. "I'll go with them."

"Are you all being serious?" asked my father, obviously hurt.

"If I go with them, we'll be safe," she replied with the certainty of a hero from a chivalric novel. "I'll make sure to bring them back."

Abuela got up solemnly and I feared the worst.

"The three of you are old enough to make your own decisions. Leave if that's what you want, and for goodness' sake make sure you come back alive."

Abuela… If I was scared, I can't even imagine how scared she would be.

The three of them nodded and the party was over before it started.

During the afternoon and the evening, there were cries, arguments, words of encouragement, and messages of hope, and, that night, everyone went to bed early. Well, almost everyone.

"I figured I would find you here."

Bruno's soft voice caressed my ears tired of hearing me cry.

"Sad?"

"Worried," I rectified.

"Don't be: they will be back."

"You can't know that."

"I can, in fact," he laughed as he dusted off his hammock and sat on it.

"True… then… have you had a new vision?"

"No need for that."

"You already knew this was gonna happen, didn't you?"

"Oh no, it was quite a surprise, but long time ago, I had a chance to see later moments and they're fine. I've made sure to tell my sisters and Abuela too."

"Thank goodness… And why didn't you tell me before?"

"I didn't know if you wanted company."

"If I came here instead of going to my room, it was because I wanted yours."

Bruno laughed awkwardly and I realized that I was doing it again: I was scaring him.

"Thank you, Bruno. I am calmer now. You can go to sleep."

"The truth is that, after such a difficult day, I was thinking of sleeping here in the hammock."

"Oh, really? And… Do you think you'd mind sharing it for a while? I think I need a hug."

I was pressing too hard and I was almost sure I was going to regret it, but unexpectedly, instead of one of his nervous reactions, his most endearing smirk suddenly appeared and, once again, he offered me the shelter of his arms. I didn't hesitate to accept it and, in a matter of seconds, we were surprisingly comfortably nestled in the hammock, with my head on his chest, his heartbeat slightly fluttering in my ear, and his hands wrapping around my back.

"I'm gonna miss them, you know?"

"I know. Me too."

"Good night, Bruno."

"Happy birthday, Mirabel."