Uncertainty

The attic was just as she remembered it, except for the fact that some of Miguel's possessions were missing, having been taken away by the family when he'd unintentionally revealed his secret. Rosa scolded herself for not thinking to ask where those assets were. She was well aware why Miguel hadn't done that.

Her eyes landed on a curtain; behind it, she knew what lay. She dragged it aside to reveal a case she unlidded. Her dear violin was there, untouched, just as she had left it months prior. She picked it up, tuned it, rosined it and the bow before placing it on her shoulder. She focused, clearing her mind.

She started playing; the first few notes were squeaky, but she rapidly regained fluidity, recalling everything she'd learnt with her mentor Isabella, and the sounds were sweeter as well as more melodic.

It was relieving to know she hadn't forgotten everything she'd put her heart into for more than half a year. She could sharpen her rusty skills.

An uncomfortable thought caused her bow to grate the strings, and she stopped.

The family had listened to her and Miguel's story, but she was uncertain whether or not they'd entirely open their hearts to music after almost a century of it being forbidden. They still tensed up whenever a customer whistled while waiting for their order of shoes to get packed, or when Miguel tapped his fingers to a beat only he could hear. They had said that the music ban was lifted, and even claimed to believe what had happened in the Land of the Dead, but… Rosa was unsure if they truly did. There was something that seemed to hold them back from entirely trusting her and Miguel's genuine words. Mamá Coco was the only one whom they had no doubt had believed every word they'd said.

But it was another aspect that was hauntingly frightening to the cousins.

It was Héctor's tragic story that had made the Riveras question everything they knew. And while they'd taken his life story - and Mamá Coco's memories of her time with him in her youth - into serious consideration, Rosa knew that they had a lot of trouble coming to terms with what had happened to him and considering him part of the family.

Just like they found it insanely difficult to cope with finding out about his murder - the first murder in the Riveras' history, and the realization that the reasons Mamá Imelda had based the music ban on were actually not the right ones.

Rosa shivered. The real reasons for Héctor's leaving would have crushed her…

How was Mamá Imelda handling everything that had come home to her after nearly a century of being denied the ugly truth?

A whistle made her snap out of her musings. She whipped around to look at Abel, who had carried her through the trapdoor in order to reach the attic, much to her embarrassment, but also quiet gratitude.

She hadn't been able to climb herself, even though her ankle had thoroughly healed, and her bruises were almost gone. She'd been no more than three steps up the retractable ladder when the feeling of dizziness engulfed her like a talon, causing her knees to buckle. She'd immediately stumbled onto the floor just before Abel stepped in.

She knew Miguel was in the same situation. He'd tried doing the same thing, but gave up as soon as he glimpsed the distance between his feet and the ground.

Her hermano was still sitting there, a small understanding smile playing on his lips.

"Are you alright, Rosa?"

"Yes."

The answer came out weaker than she'd intended. Ever since she and Miguel had returned, they had been watched like hawks, and Abel made no exception.

"You really do know how to play, don't you?" he said in wonder, his tone holding a softness that was unlike his usual loud cheerful one.

"I like to think I can."

He chuckled. "I still can't believe you two bought this violin with your own money. And nobody found out! I didn't even hear any gossip!"

She smirked. After the adventure in the other realm, she'd been intent on revealing her secret prized possession. The amazement her honesty had aroused wasn't surprising in the least. At any rate, she and her primo didn't get chastised for purchasing a violin, given that they'd only used their savings.

"But if you love playing so much, why didn't you ask me to bring you here sooner? Or get your violin down myself?"

Rosa looked away. "I don't know, I… Things regarding music in our family were still tense the first couple of weeks after Miguel and I returned."

"Then what about earlier this week? I mean, it's already Saturday, and Abuelita gave the accord on everyone's behalf to officially lift the music ban on Tuesday after all those discussions that we weren't allowed to take part in. Didn't you want to play your violin right away after that?"

She clutched her forearm. "I did, but…" She shut her eyes when the memory fogged her brain with guilt.

"What?" His voice rose in concern.

"Miguel doesn't have his guitar anymore."

Abel went silent, blinking.

"And I… I should've done something to prevent Abuelita from… you know. Miguel keeps saying that if his guitar hadn't been brought to pieces, then he wouldn't have run away and we wouldn't have saved Papá Héctor, but… I can see the pain in his eyes. I don't want him to see me play, at least not until we find a way to buy him a new instrument. Maybe as a surprise."

She was lost in another world, staring blankly at the wall behind him.

"Rosa, look at me."

Listlessly, she listened.

"I think Miguel would love to see you play. There's been a change in you both after you came back, and I don't think he'd mind if you did that. He'd be joyous, actually."

Rosa sat immovable for mere moments before tucking the violin away in its case.

"Let's get down, please."

"Rosa…"

"Please!"

Abel sighed. He started descending the ladder so he could help her down onto the floor.

"Where's my optimistic sister?"

"I've never been much of an optimist, hermano, and you know it."

"Yet you chose to give all your months' worth savings to purchase an instrument you had no clue how to play and trust that Isabella would teach you while we were still being frowned upon by some because of the music ban."

She didn't argue this time.

Hours later, after having helped wash the dishes and clear up the dinner table, Rosa was reading in her room.

There was suddenly a knock on her door; she knew who it was before it swung open.

"Prima, can I speak to you?"

"Sure."

Miguel took a seat on the carpet, and she set down her book.

"Romance again?" He grinned.

"Shut up!" She hid the book beneath the bed covers, but her anxiety rocketed, and she scoured him from head to toe. "What happened? Are you okay?"

He arched a brow. "Of course, I am! If you don't count the extra tamales Abuelita forced me to eat. Why wouldn't I be okay?"

She shrugged her shoulders.

"I should be asking you that," he went on. "I haven't seen you play your violin yet."

She scoffed. "So? It's in the attic. You, nor I can climb up there anymore. At least not at present."

He turned reflective. "Mamá Coco said this has a chance of wearing off in time."

She knew that, but with how their fear of heights now manifested, she wasn't inclined to have faith that it would go away soon.

"But what I think is the problem with you," Miguel angled his head, "is that you refuse to play your violin."

Her cheeks flushed with brief anger. "Abel told you, didn't he?"

"No, you did. Just now."

A pang of mortification struck her. She rested her head in her hands, defeated.

"What I can't figure out though, is why."

"Why what?"

"Don't play dumb. You know what I'm talking about."

"Okay, fine! I'll tell you."

She inhaled. "Miguel, you… you don't have a guitar anymore. And me playing my violin while your instrument is no more…"

"Wait, wait, wait. Stop." Despite the hurt that was plain to see on his face for a few seconds, he made an effort to push it aside. "What does your violin have to do with my guitar?"

"It's just… it's not supposed to be like this! I should've stood up for you. Maybe you'd still have the guitar if I'd been brave enough to speak up."

"Prima, I've told you and I'm telling you again: if Abuelita hadn't–"

"I know!" she snapped. "It's just that I thought you'd feel worse if you saw me play…"

The space between his eyebrows creased.

"What makes you think I'd feel that way? Rosa, I would love to see and listen to you play just like I know you adore to do. I missed hearing your violin during those months after our fallout, you know.

"And my guitar… Well, with the right tools and enough patience, I could craft a new one. I can't ask the family to buy me one, even if there's no music ban now. I doubt they'd agree; it's too soon after everything that happened."

She scowled. "But aren't you furious with Abuelita? Because part of me is still mad at her after she splintered your instrument, even though I understand her actions somehow. I still think she overreacted! You worked so hard to build that!"

He sighed deeply. How could he hide how disconcerted he was so well?!

"I know, I know. I… haven't spoken much to her since Día de Muertos. I can't really look her in the eye. Every time I do, the whole scene flashes before my eyes, and I'm just so tired of that."

He rubbed his eyes before meeting her gaze. "Try not to hold a grudge, okay? She'll feel it and that will only distance you from her. I haven't been particularly warm towards her either, but… I'm working on forgiving her."

Rosa didn't want to say it.

How long will it take us to do that? Especially you?

"I hope they have forgiven us," he added weakly. "I know they all said they have, but I hope they meant it."

She took his hand, her rage diminished. "We're family, and family forgives."

He squeezed her fingers, smiling when he recalled that Héctor had said the same thing when they'd been in the cenote. "You're right." He then grinned. "You still have calloused skin, prima."

She wiggled her eyebrows. "Hands of a violinista and shoe-maker."

Abel entered the room, smiling, the violin case in his hand. His sister went agape, her focus shifting between him and Miguel.

"You told him!" she accused her sibling.

"I did not!"

"He did not! I really have been wanting to talk to you about this," Miguel bolstered defensively.

She crossed her arms, squinting as she pushed up her glasses.

"It's true!" Abel handed her the case. "I overheard you talking and decided to bring you this."

Rosa unlidded it, clicking her tongue.

"Boys really shouldn't be trusted."

Abel snorted while Miguel simply rolled his eyes. The sight of her violin made Rosa's stomach flutter, even after all these months of having it. She took it out alongside the bow, standing up.

"Shall I?" she asked confidently, her fingers and arms jumping in the right positions.

"Of course," Miguel responded for both of them, and Abel crossed his legs on the floor.

Under their warm eager gazes, Rosa smiled and began to play.

Behind the ajar door, plates of fruit in their hands, Carmen and Luisa listened fondly, tears streaming down their cheeks.