Part 2


Chapter 10

Guilt of a Sister


10 weeks later

Isabela Madrigal was no fool.

The change in her youngest sister might have been subtle, but it was not undetectable.

She had not heeded the signs at first, yet they seemed to glare at her more intensely with each passing day, the more she quietly observed her sister.

What was strange was that not one of the Madrigals appeared to have picked up on those small changes, not even Julieta or Agustín. Isabela knew better than to blame them though; with Antonio's fifth birthday mere weeks away, all the Madrigals were in a frenzy, and nobody tried hiding it, Isabela included.

It felt somewhat weird yet familiar to be standing in front of the nursery door. She had already knocked, and the uncharacteristic quiet beyond the door stood as proof that the room was unoccupied. Ergo, with her hip against Casita's balustrade and her gaze to the golden-blue sky, Isabela waited, her stare captured by the door. So regular, unadorned, no glowing, and…

Mirabel, written on the wood in orange paint.

She had never believed the sight of a door had the power to make her eyes water.

Soon enough, an embroidered skirt and an energetic gait caught her eye. She straightened, putting her usual mask on. Easy-going and pleasing to look at.

But the mask would not serve her for what she planned to do, would it?

The moment Mirabel noticed her oldest sister, her easy smile faltered and her shoulders squared. The simple shifts cracked something in Isabela, even if only a little. Had she never perceived them before?

Mirabel avoided her gaze as if she were invisible, feigning interest for the pictures that adorned the hallway.

"Mirabel, I want to talk to you," Isabela voiced when the teen reached her door.

"About what, Isa?"

A serene question, yet the wariness in Mira's eyes…

Isabela glanced around. "Can we go inside?"

Arching a brow, her sister said, "If this is about my accidentally drinking your coffee this morning, I'm tired right now, Isa."

She shook her head vehemently. "No, no, it's not that. It's far more important than that."

"Far more important, huh?" There was an edge to Mira's voice when she pushed open the door, beckoning to her, as if she was in disbelief. Perhaps she was. No matter how greatly she despised and actually feared admitting it, deep down, Isabela knew how badly she'd been treating her hermanita in the last five years.

She still marvelled that they had not snarked at each other yet. Yet. She had a feeling Mirabel was thinking the same thing.

Once inside the bedroom-nursery, Isabela's steps wavered. She'd forgotten how small this room was. It wasn't a tiny room itself, but compared to the magical chambers… Her chamber… Her heart constricted.

Mirabel was occupying herself with cleaning up the sewing table, clearly trying to avoid making more eye contact than necessary. "Are you going to talk to me or just stand there for the next five hours?"

Isabela blinked. "Five hours would be a bit much, don't you think?"

Only clinks of needles responded.

She stepped closer. "Little sister, please listen to me."

Mirabel started, regarding her with big eyes.

"I noticed you've been acting differently lately. Have you been… seeing anyone?"

"No, I have not. What does 'different' mean to you?"

She shrugged. "Daydreaming more than you used to, humming absent-mindedly? And that spark you have in your eye when you don't suspect anyone heeds you."

It was Mira's turn to shrug. "With a life as busy as ours, can you blame me?"

Good point.

"Not really." She stepped forward until she was inches away. Mirabel remained unruffled, as if she'd been expecting this kind of interrogation. "Mirabel, you're my little sister, and I want you to be honest because I'm worried."

The teen searched her eyes, her face. She placed her hands behind her back, but her features were schooled in calm.

"So, the probability of me dating somebody is suddenly so interesting to you that you've bothered to get your head out of your perfect life and look down at me from your golden pedestal?"

Isabela blinked. Once. Twice. Then irritation simmered within her like a venomous snake biting on her composure.

You have no idea, sis…

Breathe. Don't get frustrated.

I should've seen this coming…

Mirabel side-stepped her, starting to rummage through her wardrobe. Isabela knew she was doing it to distract herself and avoid confronting her gaze. "I am allowed to have my own life, and just because you're my sister doesn't mean I have to report everything I do to you."

Isabela exhaled, even though she now had no control of the flowers blooming across her hair.

"I know that, but dating should be taken seriously."

"I am taking it seriously!"

"Then who is it?"

Mirabel stilled, hands frozen on a folded skirt.

Isa advanced a step, pushing down the power roiling in her gut, demanding it be freed to release her indignation. She managed to keep her cool. "You've just admitted it. Who is it, sis?"

"Why do you care? Are you envious? Don't you have handsome Mariano courting you?"

Her anger stumbled, replaced by lashing pain. If only you knew, Mira…

She swallowed. "I am not envious, and this is not about me."

Mirabel faced her again. Her frown was deeper than she'd ever seen it, her voice icier than she'd ever heard it. "Everything has always been about you."

Silence.

She hated those words. Despised them with everything she was.

Then, Isabela erupted.

The world blurred as her gift took control, and she had the vague feeling of vines sprouting from the ground outside. Windows banged open. Yet all she could see was her sister's face, whose back pressed against the wall, terror in her eyes.

A meek voice. "Isa…"

Her power surged, but she only registered it in the back of her mind, her eyes burning into her sister's. Despite her inner state, Isabela's voice was foreign with cold. "You know nothing about me."

Her body moved on autopilot, and she was out in the hallway, vines wrapped around her forearms. She barely made out the thud of the nursery door behind her as it was locked.


Isabela stomped her way to her prima's room. Casita was rather quiet, its serenity contrasting with her turmoil. She tried soothing her nerves.

How dare Mirabel?! How dare she? When Isabela had just wanted to help and understand, and Mira had thrown all those words in her face?

You have no idea no idea no idea!

She should have expected her sister's bitterness.

Smoothening her skirt and exhaling, Isabela knocked on Dolores' door.

"Come in!"

She did, not heeding if the door closed or not. Vines tightened on her skin. "Lola, I need to speak with you." Her tone was clipped, but at least it was at its usual pitch.

Her younger cousin stood still on the stool in front of the piano, her hands poised above the glowing immaculate keys.

"What?" Isa said, her frustration dimming more at the sight of Dolores' wide eyes and open mouth, the woman scanning her from head to toe before her gaze lingered on her head.

"Isa…"

Isabela strode to the full-length mirror. "What…"

Her knees buckled.

It was not flowers on her head.

But thorns. A crown of green-black thorns, thin yet longer and sharper the closer they got to her forehead; it circled her head, rising between her dark locks of hair. Black vines coiled around her arms, waist and…

An onyx vine choker spiked with thorns surrounded her neck.

"What the–"

She attempted to rid herself of the crown, the choker, the vines. The vines fell away, dissolving into dust at her feet, but the other two remained. Her magic tore at them, trying to shred, to slash, to at least bite, but nothing worked. They were immovable, unbreakable, ever-present…

No…

No no no no!

What have I done?

Lola's voice was a whisper, but the words were louder than church bells. "What happened in Mirabel's room, Isa? What have you done? I was practising, and I didn't hear clearly…"

Mirabel. Mirabel. The little sister she'd forgotten how much she loved, how much she cherished.

Her lips barely moved. "I don't know… I just… I lost control… We had an argument, and… my magic… snapped."

Her gift pounced again, but the hideous crown and necklace did not budge. Did not split. Only thickened by half an inch.

What have I done, what have I done, what have I done!?

She could not get consumed by panic. Panic only worsened things. So, she breathed deeply, forcing a wave of that practised equanimity to sweep over her angst. Her face was solemn when she said, "Lola, tell me the truth, por favor. Is Mirabel in love? And is she seeing anyone? And if yes, who is he?"

Dolores stiffened, and Isa saw the cogwheels spinning in that bright mind of hers. Deliberating whether or not to confirm her suppositions, which awakened that blinding wrath again. Did Lola not trust her?!

"I'm her oldest sister, Dolores! Tell me, for Mirabel's sake, if not for mine! I only want to protect her!"

"Perhaps, if you had not belittled and disparaged her for years, she would have confided in you."

The words, though uttered smoothly, had an undercurrent of sharpness that Isabela had never witnessed in her oldest cousin before.

It was true. So true and so heartbreakingly harrowing.

A pit yawned open inside her, one that had nothing to do with the crown or collar of thorns.

You failed as an elder sister.

Mirabel needed you, and you weren't there.

You failed.

You've been the opposite of what you should have been to her.

"Lola, please…"

You failed. Dismally. Utterly. Irrevocably.

Shame on you, and thus on the family.

No. This was not about the family. For once, it wasn't about them.

It was about Mirabel.

Her dear little sister, who had been waiting for a change, for a chance, for… a better life.

For ten years.

Ten. Freaking. Years.

You failed.

Isabela let her eyelids drop. That pit was widening frighteningly fast.

"Tell me who it is, Lola," she whispered, hands shaking, eyes stinging.

Her prima straightened, rising from the stool. "I made Mirabel a promise. I will not break it."

"She could be dating a–"

"She's not. I'm keeping my ears on her. And the guy is a good one. Trust me."

Isabela sized her up, noticed her unfaltering resolve, knew it would not be cracked. Dolores might have been prone to spilling people's secrets every so often, but when it came to the faith her family had in her, she was as quiet as a mouse.

That kind of loyalty and commitment now drove Isabela uneasy.

She did trust Lola, yet…

You failed.

"Continue to keep your hearing on her, okay?" Isabela sighed. "For her. And for me."

Dolores nodded. A promise. From a cousin to another.

Isabela walked to the door, stopping before it. "Thank you for what you're doing for Mirabel," she mumbled over her shoulder, and a small smile graced Lola's lips. After that, she withdrew to head towards Mirabel's room.

She did not notice the figure behind her mere feet away from Dolores' glowing door, clad in a yellow poncho, arms crossed.


A/N: I think that when Dolores first opened her door, there were a lot of instruments in her room. Having super hearing, she can surely appreciate music differently than others.

Isabela wanted to help, but Mirabel finds it hard to trust her. They haven't been on the best terms for a while and Mira is trying to be cautious. Isa wants to help, but both sisters left some things unsaid.

Thanks for reading and please let me know what you think!