The rain feels like flying through a thick patch of angry wasps. Branches are slapping across my face, arms, and legs, stinging me with every crack of the whip. There is a freezing chill in the air, strengthened by large gusts of angry winds, though I can't seem to feel it through the contradictory flames that burn through my weakening limbs. Within my grasp are the smaller hands of my two children, both dripping with tears and cries as they experience the same physical torments. Every inch of my body tells me to stop; my heart tells me to tend to the children, comfort them in what may be our last moments, but my brain pleads with me to continue, that there may be some sign of civilization just up ahead. With my heart pounding and lungs ready to burst, I continue onward.

"Suddenly, a stray root sticking up precariously from the ground latches onto my foot and sends me plummeting downward. I release my grasp of the children's hands in an attempt to keep them from my fate, but I'm unable to bring my hands forward fast enough, leaving my chin and chest to face the brunt of the impact. I cannot even cry out, as the fall completely takes my breath away. With wobbly, dizzy vision, I push myself into a sitting position. Though my thoughts are scrambled, I carefully twist around, searching for any hope in my surroundings.

"Mamá?" little Camila says between sniffles.

"Are you okay?" Alejandro asks.

My wandering eyes land on the children once again and everything inside me breaks. Restrained tears burst forth, pouring down my face. Their little faces are bruised and dirtied, and yet filled with so much worry for their mamá. I fling my arms around the two, pulling them close. "I'm so sorry, amorcitos," I cry into their shoulders, "I just needed to get you out of there. I wanted you safe."

This isn't safe.

"I know, Mamá," Alejandro says, squeezing onto me a little tighter, which he instantly regrets. With an abrupt gasp of pain, Ale yanks his hand away from me and cradles it in his other. I jump to look for the cause, gently taking his wrist and inspecting the area. A dark bruise spirals around his wrist and stretches up to the length of a large hand. "This is from earlier?" I ask. He nods.

Anger spurs within me, radiating through my body like a thousand burning flames. The fire fuels my motivation once again. I grab the two by their hands and start running.

"I will find safety for them," I think to myself, "He will not win."

After running for what seems like hours, but was likely only minutes more, my hope begins to dwindle, shriveling and shrinking like a grape in the sun. Unending lines of trees surround us with no discernable start or end to each mass of leaves. As one last-ditch effort, in case some sorry sap happens to be walking through this horrible storm in the middle of the forest, I begin to scream for help, begging anyone to come find us. I scream over and over again, until my voice is completely raw, desperation cracking through the words.

By some miracle, a light, small enough to be a single fairy drifting through the trees, catches my eye. Turning my head toward it, I stop to stare. The children call my name, but I can barely hear it. The light seems to pull me forward, singing to me with a beautiful, lulling voice. It brings a calm over me with its flickering flame, as if beckoning me to come closer. I follow those instructions, pulling along my children who have now quieted down, feeling the same pulling toward the light.

The light intensifies and the singing echoes louder and louder, as if a conductor is slowly raising his hands before a choir of angels. The light reaches across all my fields of vision, overwhelming my senses. We take our final steps, completely absorbed in the light and song. I close my eyes, basking in it. If this is death, I don't mind leaving the world this way.

Then the light then disappears; the singing is silenced. I open my eyes, only to find a shocking scene before me.

A town, multicolored and bright, stands tall with pride, as if scoffing at the idea of us not noticing it from the beginning. People of all shapes and sizes, coming from every town occupation, step forward, forming along the edge of the beautiful town. I quickly glance behind me to find a large mountain peak-like wall surrounding the town, knowing well that it was not there before.

"Who are you?" a woman asks, pulling my attention back to the large group that seems to grow by the second. I'm only able to catch a glimpse of their fearful and confused expressions before my vision goes blurry. The last thing I see is the ground rushing toward me before everything goes black.

11111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111

As I awaken, every part of my body screams in protest. My voice whimpers and groans as my eyes blink open. The light sends a shooting pain to my brain and I instantly scrunch my eyes back together in protection. After a few moments, I try again, letting my vision clear this time. I find myself sitting in a bed, wrapped in a teal and purple quilt. What lies beyond the bed, though, is what really catches my attention. The smell of fresh bread fills my senses as I glance around at the large ovens and sparkling countertops. I seem to be in a kitchen of clean and pristine condition, a baker's heaven.

"I meant to be here when you awoke, señorita." I jump at the sound of the soft voice that appears in the doorway at the front of the room. A woman in a pale blue dress and teal apron steps toward the bed. Her hair is tossed up into a messy, curly bun, and a bit of flour streaks across her tanned cheek. Her expression is soft and sweet, like the mothers you find within the pages of storybooks. She changes direction, moving toward a countertop and grabbing a tray of arepas before striding back over to my side and placing it on the bedside table.

"Where are my children?" I ask bluntly. The embarrassment for my rudeness is far surpassed by the worry for my children.

"They're safe," she says, "just downstairs waiting for you."

I try to move my legs in an effort to get out of the blankets but a sharp pain zaps each of my limbs and ceases my movements. I whimper once again.

"Please, señorita, try not to move until you've eaten. The food here has…healing properties."

I nod, willing to accept anything that will make the pain ease. She holds out an arepa for me to take a bite, which I hastily oblige. As the bite slides down my throat, a tingling feeling fills my body, stretching along the length of it, in every direction. The tingles fade and so does my pain. With a newfound vigor, I throw myself upward into a sitting position.

"Healing properties?" I ask, laughing and looking over at the woman. "That was just magic!"

"Yes, exactly as I would describe it."

There are many burning questions that are flying through my head now, but, oddly enough, the one that makes its way to my tongue is, "Why is there a bed in your kitchen?"

The woman chuckles. "Well, it's actually my bedroom. The kitchen is downstairs. I use this room to practice new recipes when I want to relax. The meals are prepared in the kitchen."

I nod, not fully understanding the logic but choosing to let it go. "May I ask your name? And where am I?"

"Yes, of course. I'm Julietta Madrigal. You are in my family's home here in Encanto. What may I call you?"

"Estrella. My children's names are Alejandro and Camila."

"Ah, yes. We have a boy in our family here named Camilo. Your daughter was ecstatic, clinging to him and asking him questions as if he were her new best friend. Your boy Alejandro is quite loyal. He wouldn't speak to anyone or eat anything, saying he only would once you awoke."

A soft smile graces my lips. Little Mila inherited her mamá's propensity for asking too many questions and dear Ale is a mamá's boy in every right. My soft expression fades to worry, remembering the beaten faces and bodies of my two babies the last time I saw them.

"May I see them now?" I ask. She nods and asks me to follow her. I stand to my feet, wiggling away the last of the tingles before stepping behind her and following her out of the door. Leaving the warmth of the room causes a chill to shutter underneath the damp clothes I am still wearing. I quickly apologize to Julietta, assuming I had gotten her bed wet, but she only waves it off, telling me there is nothing to apologize for.

Outside of the room is a hall filled with doors, all carved and glowing with personalized faces and symbols, presumably each of the family members within this household. One door, sitting at the end of the row, catches my eye. A face is carved into it with an hourglass beneath the visage, but the glow is nonexistent, as if the energy that at one point was flowing through the wood, had dissipated. I don't have enough time to ask about it as we begin descending the stairs because, suddenly, I hear the most glorious sound.

"Mamá!" my children cry in unison, running toward me. I rush to the bottom of the stairs and scoop them up, squealing with delight and flooding them with kisses. "We'll be okay now, mi amorcitos; we made it."

Ale stands on his tiptoes and whispers into my ear, "I was really scared, Mamá, but I didn't let them see it. I was trying to be brave like you."

"Up, Mamá, up!" cries little Mila. Lifting Camila up with one arm, I place her on my knee while rubbing soothing circles on Ale's back. His head rests in the crook of my neck and I snuggle into the both of them.

A much older woman who holds herself with an air of posh arrogance strides into the room. Those around her seem to move away from her path with a respect that can only be reserved for the matriarch of the village. Her nose, which seems to barely hold back a harsh sneer, is large and hooked. The magenta dress she wears covers her entire form, reaching up her throat and down the length of her arms. Her eyes are sharp and wise, unwilling to allow anything to pass by them without permission. Even in her age, I can see that she was a beautiful woman in her younger years, though the harsh exterior she presents leaves no room for feminine softness.

"How did you get into Encanto?" she asks.

I look around the room at the myriad of faces that witnessed the tearful reunion. A well-dressed man, who now has his arm wrapped around Julietta, stands off to the right. Beside him is a shorter man with dark curls on his head, a little boy at his side with a similar set of curls but a lighter complexion. Beside them stands two women, one tall, with bright red hair and a yellow dress, the other a young lady in her teens with brown curls tied into a bun. By her side are two other seemingly teenage girls, one with long flowing hair and the other with large muscles that seem extraordinary for her age. Clearing my throat, I quickly stand to my feet.

"I—well, I wasn't intending to come here. I thought we were headed for Magnolia. I studied the map so many times, just in case…" I trail off, not understanding where I could have gone wrong. I knew that things were getting bad at home. I had formed the plan of escape for months, knowing that everything would rely on finding safety and help as soon as possible. To make such a crucial mistake is not only embarrassing, but has also endangered my children, which is unacceptable. They would have died in that storm if this miracle of a town had not appeared.

"I was there when she appeared, Mamá," the red-haired woman in yellow says, "there was this bright light and then—POOF—they were just there. Like a mira—"

"I think we would know a miracle, Pepa. This is no miracle. It may be a sign."

"A sign of what?" the well-dressed man asks.

"The magic may be weakening…it was meant to protect us from outsiders and here are these outsiders—brought within our borders. Things have been different since your brother-"

"Wait, what? Magic?" I ask before glancing toward Julietta, remembering the earlier comment she had made.

All eyes turn toward us, Abuela holding a hard glare. "You'll find out with time, I'm sure. After everything you've seen, knowing our location, you will not be leaving Encanto."

"Okay!"

The expressions around us turn to confusion, eyeing me at my odd response. "Well—I mean—yes, please. If you'll have us. We have nowhere else to go and would really appreciate some help. Just until we get on our feet. I was a tutor for some children back home and I can help teach if you have a schoolhouse. I hope that I'd not be too much of a burden, if possible."

"You don't have a home to get back to?" Julietta asks, motherly worry in her eyes.

My shoulders stiffen at question. "Home", a place I will never allow Ale and Mila to step foot in ever again. I can never forgive myself for the danger I put my children in just for staying all those years. If I had only been stronger… "The situation we were running from was not wonderful. We have no home now."

There was silence for a moment before Julietta speaks once again, though hesitantly, "When you first arrived…you were covered in cuts and bruises from head-to toe. You likely had some bruised ribs and a broken ankle as well. Your little boy's wrist looks injured…"

I glance around the room with a heart pounding in my chest. All the preparation I had made to speak of the torment we faced left me still feeling unprepared in this moment. A shaky sigh falls from my lips before I begin, "My husband is a cruel man, but also a very powerful one. He owns the factory that supplies homes and jobs for my hometown. No one is willing to stand up to him, no matter what he does. I knew that I would have no chance for refuge there, so I sought out a different town. If I could escape and find someone to help us, I had hoped that my children would be safe."

"He hurts you?" the shorter man asks.

"Everyday," I say, tears filling my eyes once again, "It's one thing if it's me. After all these years, I never even imagined a day I could leave, until just a few months ago." Camila reaches her arms up toward me and I lift her up into my arms, letting her head rest against my shoulder. Alejandro's grip tightens around my waist.

"Then, earlier, when he grabbed Ale like that, he—he looked like he was going to beat him. Hurt him like he hurts me. I just couldn't do it, couldn't bear to let that happen to him. I had to get them out. I grabbed them both and ran out the door. I heard him screaming my name a few times but then he just went inside. I think he believed we would return. H—he's a bit older so he may have not had as much energy to come after us. I followed the river—just as I knew to do to get to Magnolia. But somehow, I had gotten lost, and that awful storm showed up…Soon, we were just looking for any signs of civilization." The next part still confuses me, and I hesitate to mention the odd happening. "…Then, I saw this light in the distance. It started out looking like the smallest flame of a candle in the distance, and it had gotten brighter the closer we walked toward it. That was what led us here." At this point, my tears have fallen free and are streaking down my cheeks. Mila has fallen asleep in my arms and Ale is clinging to the back of my skirt, listening intently.

Silence overwhelms the room for what seems like eternity before Julietta takes a step forward, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder. "She should stay with us."

"Absolutely not."

"Mamá!" Pepa exclaims, thunder echoing around the room along with her voice. The shock from the onslaught of the unexpected noise does not last as, suddenly, everyone begins speaking over each other.

"You can't just—"

"How could you—"

"She has children, Mamá"

"They certainly need help…"

"They can stay in the nursery with me!" a little voice squeaks.