Camilo heard the knock at his bedroom door, and he waved his hand. Casita obediently opened it to reveal Pepa. She walked in with a laundry basket and set it on his dresser.

"Are you not going to get ready, mijo?" she asked.

"I don't want to go, mamá," Camilo said.

Pepa glanced over to his dresser to see the ruby tablet. "If that's what you want, you can stay here. But stay out of the kitchen."

Camilo waved his hand and kept his eyes on the ceiling. Pepa left his room, calling that it was time to head into town as she shut his door. He rolled to his feet and began to pace his room, his fingers fiddling with his ruana. The same restless energy that had plagued him for days wouldn't leave him alone. He paced as he heard the rest of the family leave, his eyes going to the tablet again and again. Each time he saw it, his stomach twisted in knots.

That day had never left him alone. It had been only weeks later that Bruno left forever, and Camilo had known in his heart that his tío had not been okay with what he'd done. But Bruno kept smiling, kept brushing off his concern, so he told himself that it had just been a joke. Even after he left, Camilo kept telling himself that it hadn't been his fault, that Bruno hadn't left because of him. And now he knew that was both true and false. It had not been the only reason he'd left, but it had been a part of it.

Camilo stopped pacing and approached the tablet. As much as it tore him apart, he stared at the scene before him. His tío looked utterly heartbroken, completely betrayed. How could Camilo have done this to his uncle? He'd known it was wrong when he'd done it. And despite his constant transformation into "creepy Bruno" after his uncle had gone, he missed him and had never seen him like that. It was a joke, always a joke. But it was one that hadn't been all that funny to Camilo, and now he knew it had been life-destroying for Bruno.

After staring intently at the tablet for a few minutes, Camilo reached out his hands and gingerly picked it up. He had to do it. He had to talk to his tío. Today. He couldn't bear it anymore. Without any idea of what he'd do or say, Camilo slipped the tablet into a bag, which he slung over his shoulder and settled on his hip. It seemed unnaturally heavy to the teen as he walked over to the door and opened it.

As he headed for Bruno's room, he wondered whether Bruno would even open the door. He hadn't been answering for anybody, and most of the family had tried. Was Bruno even there anymore? Had he disappeared again and left the family alone? Camilo's heart was in his throat as he got to the stairwell, and he let out a breath when he saw the empty tray that his tía had left out for Bruno. If it was empty, it meant Bruno hadn't left again, that he was still there.

Each step up the stairs seemed to be farther away, but Camilo finally reached the top and stared at the dark outline of his uncle. Bruno was the only Madrigal to ever willingly give up his powers, and he'd done it twice. Mirabel had told them that he'd only used his gift for her to help the family. Bruno cared so much for his family, and Camilo thought to himself that if he'd been through what his uncle had, he wouldn't care about them. In fact, he was sure he would have really left.

After an agonizing few minutes of trying to figure out what to say, Camilo raised his hand and knocked three times. It wasn't really surprising when there was no answer, but Camilo's gut still twisted with disappointment. He knocked again, tapping firmly against the wood.

"¿Tío Bruno?" he called.

No answer. Camilo hesitated. Should he just leave? After debating with himself for a minute, he knocked again, this time louder and more insistently.

"¿Tío? It's Camilo. I… I need to talk to you."

There was a long silence, and Camilo was just about to leave when the doorknob rattled and the door cracked open. Bruno stood firmly in the doorway, his eyes suspicious as he scanned Camilo up and down. His face was pale and he looked tired, but he was there, and Camilo stared at him, unable to speak.

"Okay, mijo, what did you do this time?"

It took a moment for the words to register, and Camilo frowned at Bruno. "What do you mean, tío?"

Bruno squinted at him. "When you were little, you'd always come to me when you did something bad. I was always the one you wanted to tell."

As if coming from a faraway place, Camilo remembered bits and pieces of his childhood where he had indeed gone to Bruno to talk when he'd done something bad. His face warmed and he looked down at the floor, suddenly feeling small and ashamed again, just like when he'd used his power to make fun of Bruno.

"Tío, I did something really, really bad," he whispered. "It's probably the worst thing I've ever done. And I really, really need to talk about it."

Bruno said nothing, staring at him intently. There was wariness in his eyes, and Camilo couldn't blame him. If their roles were reversed, he would slam the door and not care. But Bruno didn't do that. He stepped back and opened the door, gesturing for Camilo to come in. Camilo did so gratefully, but he paused when he saw how messy his uncle's room was.

Several books, no doubt pilfered while the rest of the family slept, lay scattered about amidst clothes and other things that his uncle had been entertaining himself with. Camilo would have been driven up a wall if he'd been trapped in his room all alone. But then again, Bruno had had plenty of practice entertaining himself for ten years. That was almost two-thirds of Camilo's life.

Bruno shut the door and looked around, suddenly becoming aware of the mess. He looked a bit embarrassed, and he rubbed the back of his neck.

"Um, maybe we should talk in the back part? If you don't mind getting a bit sandy…"

"Sure. Lead the way," Camilo said.

Bruno turned and went through the sand waterfall. Camilo followed, but he'd forgotten about the slope and nearly fell onto his face. Bruno caught him easily.

"Whoa there, pollito," Bruno said with a faint smile.

Camilo laughed and straightened, brushing off sand. "Lo siento, tío."

"Ah, it's okay. You haven't been in here in a long, long time."

"So, where are we going?"

"This way," Bruno said, gesturing for him to follow.

He went down to a small cave set into the cliff side, and Camilo began to remember things. The cave was actually a tunnel that led to a small oasis where he and his uncle had spent hours and hours together before Bruno had disappeared. Just as he remembered, the oasis was a beautiful spot of green and blue against the yellows, oranges, and browns that made up most of Bruno's room.

Bruno led him over and gestured to a low, flat bench carved out of wood. Camilo settled down, and Bruno picked up two hand carved wooden cups, which he filled with water from the bubbling spring that filled the sparkling blue pool in the center of the room. The water cascaded out of the spring and down a natural rock face into the pool. Camilo took the water and sipped on it. It was so refreshingly cool, and he smiled to himself as Bruno sat down with a sigh, staring at the water.

"Okay, pollito, what did you do this time?"

Camilo suddenly realized that he still had no idea what to say to his uncle. What could he say? Sorry didn't seem big enough to describe how he felt and what he wanted to say. He looked down, tracing the smooth rim of the cup. Bruno sipped on his water and raised his eyebrows. Then he snickered. Camilo looked up, startled by the noise. Bruno shook his head, a faint smile on his lips.

"It must be something really, really bad if you're not saying anything," he said fondly. "I mean, you put a worm in Isa's food once, and I had to stop her from strangling you with roses."

The faint memory came back to him, and Camilo laughed and rubbed the back of his neck. "I'd forgotten about that. Man, she was mad!"

"Then there was the time you snuck a coati into Casita," Bruno continued. "You hid it under your bed in a basket. But you didn't count on it chewing through the wood. It destroyed everything! Ay, Dios mío, it took us hours to catch him! Too bad we didn't have Antonio's gift at the time."

Camilo laughed again, covering his face with one hand. "Oh, man! That was even worse! Abuela took a switch to me for that one. And I got struck by lightning when mamá was lecturing me."

Bruno smiled. "One time you broke your abuelo's portrait when you couldn't get your abuela to let you stay in town overnight. You were so sorry about that. I came up with a story that we were roughhousing and we hit the wall. Mamá believed it, and you promised in return to never do that again." He sipped his water again and a wistful expression crossed his face. "I remember that you would sneak in here sometimes and hide when you knew you'd be in trouble. Then I'd come looking for you and I would find you and you'd pet my rats and we'd just sit and talk."

There was silence for a moment, and Bruno's expression pinched. Then he sighed and turned to refill his cup. Camilo watched him settle back down, and he could see the years weighing on his tío.

"So, pollito, is it worse than the coati? Because that thing wrecked absolutely everything."

Camilo looked down again, a painful lump in his throat. He couldn't seem to speak. Bruno's eyebrows came together and he tilted his head.

"Is it another coati, Camilo? Because if so, we need Antonio. It'll be so much easier. And it can go to his room with the others."

"No, tío," Camilo said, swallowing to try and get rid of the lump. "It's way, way worse than the coati."

"Oh really?" Bruno asked. "What is it?"

Camilo's hands shook as his fingers fumbled in the bag and he pulled out the ruby tablet. Bruno made a strangled noise, and Camilo looked up to see panic and terror on his uncle's face. He leaped to his feet and took several steps away, putting his hands up as if to keep him back. When he had put two yards between them, he turned and knocked on the nearest palm tree then reached into his ruana and pulled out a handful of salt, tossing it over his shoulder. Then he backed behind the tree and stared at his feet, suddenly cold and distant. Camilo felt as if Bruno was hiding in the walls again, and his uncle wouldn't look at him. When he spoke, his voice was gruff, and he sounded like a completely different person.

"I don't appreciate you lying to get in here just to show me that stupid tablet again. You can take it back to your abuela right now. Get out."

The desert shifted and rippled as Bruno's room prepared to force Camilo out.

"¡No, tío!" Camilo gasped. "It's not that tablet! Please! You had a vision about me! Please, tío! Please look at it! I can't tell you what's on it! I just can't! I don't even want to think about what I did! I'll go if that's what you want, but please look at this first!"

His uncle stood in the shade of the palm tree, and Camilo could see him trembling. His large, frightened eyes looked at Camilo, and the boy saw fear in his uncle's face. Bruno was afraid of him, afraid of more pain. He had experienced so much pain that he expected it at every turn, even from his family. Camilo's heart trembled just as much as his uncle was as he gazed at the pitiful, frightened man before him.

"Please, tío," Camilo said softly, holding out the ruby glass. "Please."

Bruno took a deep breath then reached out and murmured his ritual again as he knocked on the palm tree before throwing another handful of salt over his shoulder. Then he approached again, brushing the salt off of his palms as he sat down. Licking his lips, he held out his hands. Camilo gently slipped the glass into his uncle's grip, anxious and unsure of what would happen next. Would he fly into a rage like he did with Alma? Camilo knew if he did, he deserved it. But he really hoped that wouldn't happen.

Bruno glanced up at the towering cliffs that made up his bedroom, and Camilo saw him swallow before breathing out and lowering his eyes to the tablet. Camilo watched him as he paused, taking in the image on the ruby glass. Then Bruno's face pinched as he seemed to crumble in front of his nephew. It broke Camilo's heart to see the raw pain on his uncle's face, and he knew it was because of what he'd done all those years ago.

"I'm so sorry, tío," Camilo whispered, looking away. "I just… I was showing them my gift, and I just wanted them to like me so bad. Primo Andrés used to tease me so much, and he finally thought I was cool. And when he called me a lámpara, it really hurt. So I did what he said. I… I changed into creepy old Bruno so he would like me. Because they thought I was weird, tío. The village kids always thought I was weird because I'm a Madrigal. I knew it was wrong, and I did it anyway. And I never said sorry because you wouldn't tell me it hurt you. So I'll say it now. I'm so, so sorry, tío." He bowed his head and his voice shook as he began to cry. "Lo siento, tío. Por favor, perdóname. Please, please forgive me. I'll never do it again. Never ever, no matter what. Please…"

Bruno said nothing, staring at the image on the glass. He ran his rough fingers over his green form, lingering on the crack over his heart. When Camilo was done speaking, Bruno let the silence stretch on for a minute or two. Then he spoke quietly.

"I get it."

"Get what?" Camilo asked shakily.

"Wanting to be cool. Wanting to have friends. I get it." Bruno swallowed. "When I was a kid, I had lots of friends from the village. They loved me and my sisters. Then after I turned fifteen, my visions started changing. And everybody else seemed to change with them. I started seeing more bad things, and people started getting angry. Then they said I was making the future happen. Then your uncle got the village boys together and…" Bruno went quiet, and stress appeared around his eyes.

"Do you mean tío Darío?" Camilo asked in surprise. "Papá's brother?"

"Yeah. Him." Bruno glared at the tablet and pressed a finger on Darío's son and Camilo's cousin, Andrés. "You be careful around Andrés, pollito."

"Why?"

Bruno shook his head and tears bloomed in his eyes. "Darío turned on me first. And after he was done with me, I didn't have a single friend around my age left in the village. He spread most of the rumors that are still going around. And yeah, I know the rumors. I've heard them all. I know I'm nothing but creepy old Bruno to them, and I'm cursed." He paused and his bottom lip trembled. "But I hoped mi familia wouldn't believe them, wouldn't listen to the lies."

And with that, Bruno placed his face in one hand and began to cry. The tablet slipped from his fingers and landed on the soft grass, remaining whole and unchanged. Seeing his uncle cry was too much for Camilo, and tears slipped down his own cheeks. He had done this to his uncle, and shame made his face burn and his heart ache. He stood up abruptly, suddenly feeling the overwhelming need to get away.

"I'm so sorry, tío," he mumbled, and turned to leave.

But he didn't even take a step before Bruno's hand closed over his wrist to stop him. He found himself pulled back down and Bruno embraced him, still sobbing, burying his head in his nephew's shoulder.

"Don't go, pollito. Please don't…"

Camilo grasped him tightly, hiding his face in his uncle's ruana as he sobbed, too. "Lo siento mucho, tío. So very sorry," he whispered.

He continued to apologize as they cried together, and Bruno's grip tightened in a fierce hug. Then, after yet another apology, Bruno began to laugh, and he pulled back to smile at his sobrino. Camilo stared at him, surprised by the ease that was on his uncle's face.

"Thank you," Bruno said. "I'm glad we could talk."

Camilo scrubbed his face, embarrassed by his tears, but he smiled. He felt free for the first time in years. "Me, too," he admitted.

Bruno hugged him again then sighed and swirled his water around. "Can I ask you something?"

"Claro, tío," Camilo agreed.

"Do you still think I'm creepy old Bruno?"

Camilo sighed. "I never did. You're not creepy, tío." He paused then grinned. "But you are old."

Bruno burst out laughing, and mirth lit up his face. He looked happy and relaxed as he shook his head. "Alright, alright. I guess that's fair. But I think you'd better go. I need some time to think."

He leaned down to pick up the ruby tablet and handed it to his nephew. Camilo reached out and took it, lowering it back into the bag. For a moment, he thought he saw a flash of green and paused, about to check it before he remembered that his uncle's form on the tablet was green. So he flipped the satchel closed and smiled.

"You can let yourself out, pollito," Bruno said. "Remember to shake off the sand before you go. Mamá never did like Casita to be sandy."

"Yeah. Okay." Camilo headed for the tunnel and paused, turning back. "¿Tío?"

"Yeah?"

"Next time I hurt you, please tell me. Because you never let me apologize before you left. You just kept saying you were fine. And you weren't."

Bruno studied him. "Sure."

"Do you mean it?" Camilo pressed.

There was a smidge of hesitation before Bruno nodded. "Okay, pollito."

Camilo relaxed. "See you around?"

"Sure."

Camilo turned and headed for the waterfall of sand. When he was through, he shook off the sand then looked around again at the mess. He knew he'd gotten his disorganization from somewhere, and it must have been Bruno. With that amusing thought, he let himself out and hesitated before heading toward the kitchen. Just one or two arepas wouldn't hurt anybody, especially if nobody knew. But as he was leaning against the counter, chewing on a fluffy arepa con queso, there was a bang as the door to the house flew open.

"Camilo?!" Mirabel called, her voice sounding a bit odd.

Before Camilo could respond, Casita's tiles rippled, leading the whole family to the doorway of the kitchen. Camilo stood frozen, mid-chew, as he was suddenly the recipient of several hard stares.

"I'll wait for lunch," Camilo muttered, his face hot as he tried to hide the food behind his back.

Mirabel stepped forward. "You didn't happen to, oh, I don't know… see Bruno around today, have you?"

"I went to his room and we talked for a while," Camilo said after swallowing. "He forgave me for… well, he forgave me."

"He answered the door for you?" Julieta asked, placing her hand over her heart.

"Well, not the first couple times," Camilo admitted. "But he did eventually." He looked around. "Why are you all here?"

"I came to get something," Pepa said. "And when I came back, the front doors were different. So I shouted and Dolores brought everybody home."

"What's wrong with the front doors?"

"The crack from Bruno to you is gone, Camilo," Mirabel said, adjusting her glasses. "So we knew something had happened."

"I'm just glad it's a good thing," Félix said fervently.

Camilo didn't know what to say. But he opened his mouth to respond anyway. Before he could, Alma spoke up, her voice quiet but clear.

"Mijo, where did you get this?"

Camilo looked over to his grandmother to see an emerald tablet. He wondered where she'd gotten it from before he noticed his satchel, which he'd tossed on the counter, was open and empty. Puzzled, Camilo set aside the arepa and walked over to look at it. Etched in the green glass was a picture of a young Camilo, playing in the sandy desert with Bruno. Camilo had drawn lines in the sand, and Bruno held up a bucket of water, letting the water spill down into the lines. Camilo, only four at the time, looked up at his uncle with wonder and love shining in his eyes, and Bruno stared at his nephew with a mischievous, loving gaze. Camilo's chest tightened and tears blurred his vision.

"Where did you get this, abuela?" he asked softly.

"It was in your bag."

Camilo shook his head, confused, and peeked in. There was no sign of the red tablet. It had to be the same one. But how had it changed from red to green? And how had the picture changed? Mirabel reached out and took the tablet, her brows furrowed.

"You said he answered the door for you?"

Camilo nodded. "Yeah."

"Didn't we see your vision first?"

"Um, yeah. So?"

Mirabel continued to study the tablet. "And we saw Abuela's last…" Her eyes went wide. "Of course," she murmured. "We did it backwards."

"Mirabel? What do you mean?" Alma asked.

"Don't you get it? We did it backwards! Camilo's vision was first, and that means something!" Mirabel lit up and looked around at her family. "We did it in the wrong order! Abuela's was the last vision, and we tried to fix that first. That's why he shut down! It was too far down the list. He needs to deal with us one by one, not all together, and he needs to do it in the order of his visions!"

"That could make sense," Alma said slowly. "But are you sure, mija?"

"The only way to find out is for the person who had the next vision to try and talk with him. If that works, then we'll know what to do next."

"And who's next?" Agustín asked.

Mirabel turned to her sister. "The second vision was about Luisa."

Luisa suddenly looked frightened. Alma reached over to grasp her cheeks.

"We need you to do this, Luisa. It will be hard, but we know you can do it."

"I hit him, though," Luisa said quietly. "I hit him, and I'm not supposed to ever hit anybody."

"I don't think that's what hurt him, Luisa," Mirabel said.

"I know," Luisa whispered. She swallowed. "But I'll try, if that's what you think I should do, abuela, I will try."

"Mirabel?" Alma asked.

"This is what I think we need to do," Mirabel said.

"Then I'll try," Luisa said. "Tomorrow, I'll go and see if he'll answer his door."

With that agreed upon, the family headed back into town. Camilo stayed behind, carrying the emerald tablet up to his room. He sat on his bed for a long time and just stared at the scene etched in the green glass. It was one of the last times Bruno had ever been truly relaxed around him, and he knew that instinctively. He couldn't wait to make new memories with his uncle, and he felt a little sad at the thought of all the memories they'd missed over the last ten years. They had a lot of catching up to do. But Camilo was grateful for the opportunity to really get to know his tío Bruno, one conversation at a time.