Chapter Text
Casita was restored, their Gifts had returned, and Mirabel couldn’t stop smiling. She laughed, reveling in the joy that came from being able to talk to Casita again, to hug her grandmother without fear of her judgment or disapproval. She was still smiling when the family ventured up the stairs again to discover ten glowing, golden doors.
“Is this…” Mirabel whispered, afraid to touch the shining doorknob in front of her.
“Yours, mi vida,” Julieta said, smiling at her daughter. “Finally yours.”
Abuela’s hands gently nudged Mirabel’s back and pushed her towards her door. “You deserve it,” she said.
“But - “ Mirabel said. “But I still don’t have a Gift.” She frowned at her hands. “At least, I don’t think so?”
“I don’t have a Gift,” Abuela said. “Not in the same way as your sisters or your mother. My door is mine for receiving the miracle. And yours, I imagine, is for you reviving it. Now, go on.” She nudged her again. “Don’t keep it waiting,” she said softly.
Hardly daring to breath, Mirabel reached a shaky hand forward, and wrapped her fingers around the doorknob. She waited for the glow to fade, for the door to disappear back into the wall just like it had ten years ago. Instead, the door brightened, then burst out in glowing golden light that blinded Mirabel’s vision, and sent a wave of warmth into her bones. The light faded back into the door, settling along golden lines. Her name, Mirabel, was printed along the top, above a glowing portrait of her, arms outstretched, and holding out the candle, their miracle. Golden butterflies fluttered around her, and the little symbols she had embroidered onto her skirt for her family were replicated in loving detail around the edges of the frame. Letting out a gasping breath, she stepped back, letting go of the handle. “It’s mine,” she whispered. “My room. My door.” She squealed. “I got a door!” She spun around to face her family, arms flung out in delight.
“Finally!” Luisa whooped.
“Open it, Mirabel,” Dolores encouraged. “Let’s see inside.”
Grinning wider than she had ever grinned in her life, Mirabel opened her door, and stepped inside her room for the first time in her life. Her room was more ordinary than some of her family’s - no dramatic landscapes or cavernous rooms - but it was a far cry from the mundane nursery she had come from. The entry was a normal room, with pretty, wood paneled walls, and her wardrobe, bed, and sewing machine. Beyond it spread a small meadow, with a bubbling stream running beneath green-leafed trees. It looked almost exactly like her favorite spot, just outside the town, where she had used to sit and embroider on quiet summer afternoons. Mirabel let out a happy gasp, and ran her fingers lovingly along the wall. “It’s perfect.” she whispered. “I love it.”
Julieta embraced from behind in a warm hug. “I’m so happy,” she whispered in her ear.
Agustin threw himself over them, sobbing loudly. “I can’t believe it!” he cried.
“Mama, Pá, get off,” Mirabel cried, laughing. She squeaked as Luisa scooped all three of them into her arms and crushed them to her chest. “Luisa!”
“Alright, alright,” Abuela chuckled, gently tapping their arms to separate them. “We should all go get some rest. It’s been a busy day, and I imagine Mirabel would like to explore her new room.” She stopped beside Mirabel as the rest of the family turned towards the door, and ran a hand over her hair. “Congratulations, Mirabel. I’m so glad you were able to finally join us all.”
“I am too, Abuela,” Mirabel said.
“I’m just sorry,” Abuela continued. “That it took us so long.”
“That’s alright,” Mirabel said, laughing a little under her breath. “I forgive you. After all, we built this beautiful house back together!”
“Yes,” Abuela said. “But you completed it.” She moved away towards the door, where Mirabel saw Camilo still hovering around the doorway. “What is it, Camilo?” Abuela asked.
Camilo’s eyes flickered towards Mirabel, and he bit his lip. “Nothing, Abuela,” he said.
“Well, off to bed then,” Abuela said. “It’s getting late, and we’ll probably all need to reopen our doors properly.”
Camilo looked at Mirabel again, but tore his eyes away before she could say anything. “Okay,” he said. “Good night, Mirabel.”
“Good night, Camilo!” Mirabel waved as the door shut behind them. She turned towards her new bed, flopping down across the blankets. “Did Camilo seem a little quiet to you, Casita?” she asked the ceiling.
Her room stayed silent. Mirabel wrinkled her nose. “Right,” she muttered. “Casita can’t come in the rooms.” She turned over, and nestled deeper into the covers of her bed. “That’s going to take some getting used to,” she murmured. She yawned. “M’tired,” she sighed. She was asleep before she had even finished speaking.
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Several weeks later, Mirabel rolled over in bed as beams of warm sunlight slanted across her face. She blinked open her eyes, joy suffusing her heart at the sight of her room. Her room. The words still thrilled her beyond belief. She had never thought she would ever have a room all for herself, and yet here she was. In her room. Her slippers didn’t move up to her feet when she stepped out of bed, but her toes nestled in warm grass as pulled them on, and that was almost as nice.
She flung open her door in delight, stepped out into the hall, and nearly tripped over a ceramic plate of cheese sitting almost directly in front of her doorway. She yelped, twisted sharply so as to not step right on the plate, and fell in a heap in the hall to the side. “Wha- Who?” she cried.
A snicker behind her gave her a clue as to the identity of the mysterious cheese person, and she groaned, craning her head to look behind her. “Camilo…”
“Sorry,” her cousin said, snickering. He held out a hand and helped her back to her feet. “I didn’t mean to make you fall.”
“Well, why’d you leave the cheese then?” Mirabel looked down at the plate, which now had a curious rat sniffing the edge. “And why cheese?”
Camilo shrugged, tucking his hands awkwardly behind the edges of his ruana. “Just thought’d be a nice gesture, that’s all,” he said. “And Tio Bruno thought you’d like the cheese.”
Mirabel looked down at the plate again, which was nearly half empty, and had a long line of rats running away from it. “I think Tio Bruno thought his rats would like the cheese,” she said. She scooped up two of the last un-nibbled pieces and offered one to Camilo. “Thanks anyway?”
“Oh,” Camilo said. He eagerly popped the cheese into his mouth and swallowed it in one bite. “I guess I didn’t think about that.”
Mirabel chuckled. “C’mon, Camilo. It’s breakfast time.” She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye as they headed down the stairs together, Mirabel carrying the empty cheese plate. “You’ve been acting kind of weird lately. Are you feeling alright?”
Camilo jumped. “What, me? I’m perfectly fine!”
“You put cheese on a plate in front of my door,” Mirabel pointed out. “And you’ve just seemed a bit… quiet, lately? Ever since we got Casita back, I don’t think I’ve seen you do a single prank.”
“And what do you call our performance yesterday?” Camilo protested, crossing his arms.
Mirabel waved away his words. “Tio Bruno started it, don’t tell me otherwise.”
“Well, what if the cheese was a prank,” Camilo persisted.
“It’s a pretty weird one, that’s all,” Mirabel shrugged.
Camilo frowned, looking as though he wanted to protest further, but before he could, they stepped into the sunlit courtyard, filled with the rest of their family. Mirabel nudged him towards the food table. “Look, Mama made arepas,” she said, hoping to brighten his mood. “You want one? Or twenty?”
Camilo finally grinned, though it seemed thinner than his genuine, beaming smiles he usually gave. “Haha,” he said dryly. He dropped three arepas on his plate, added a scoop of veggies and rice, and wandered off towards the table. Mirabel frowned at his nearly empty plate, and hurried to load her own and steal the seat next to him.
“Are you sure you’re feeling alright,” she hissed.
“I’m fine,” Camilo repeated, shoveling a mouthful of food into his mouth. “Hush, Abuela is talking.”
Mirabel glanced up to the head of the table, where Abuela had fixed them both with her characteristic stern glare. “Sorry,” she muttered, and shoved an arepa into her mouth.
“Very good,” Abuela said. “As I was about to say, we all have a busy day today. Pepa and Bruno, if you two could work together, the farmers would like you to try to figure out which fields will be the driest come fall, and give them some extra rain. Luisa, there are a number of building improvements being done around town to assist with. Dolores, the usual, if you please. And Camilo - “
Camilo stood upright abruptly, the legs of his chair scraping against the ground. He slammed his hands against the surface of the table. Mirabel gaped at him, open-mouthed, and to his other side, Dolores winced in shock, her hands flying up to cover her ears. Thunder crackled around Pepa’s head.
“Camilo!” she gasped.
“It’s fine,” Camilo ground out between clenched teeth. “I get it, Abuela. I’m just… going to go now.” He stalked away from the table, leaving his half-empty plate behind. Mirabel stared after him, her brow furrowed in confusion.
“Camilo!” she called. She slid out of her chair and ran into the house after him, leaving the rest of their family murmuring among themselves in confusion. She caught up to him in the center of the courtyard, grabbing at the hem of his ruana to make him stop. “Camilo, something is wrong, what’s going on with you?”
“What’s going on with me?” Camilo snapped. He twisted, yanking his ruana out of her grip. “What’s going on with you? Our whole family basically ignored you, at best, for ten years, Mirabel! And you’re just fine with that?”
Mirabel stared at her cousin. “That’s what your problem is? Camilo, that’s all behind us now! We fixed all that months ago!”
“Exactly!” Camilo shouted. He flung his arms up in the air. “You had what, one chat with Abuela, and then everything’s fine and dandy? You might have forgiven her for how she acted towards you, but I won’t!”
“There’s nothing to forgive!” Mirabel shouted back. “Abuela lost her home, Camilo, she was trying to stop that from happening again! She may have been wrong, but I understand her!”
“Well, I can’t!” Camilo’s shape flickered, his frustration exploding in a flurry of lengthening limbs and angrily glowing eyes. “I can’t forgive her, and I can’t forgive myself for what we did to you!”
Two stories above Camilo’s head, the candle began flickering rapidly, catching Mirabel’s gaze. Her breath caught in her throat, a flicker of panic curling in her chest. “Camilo…”
“No, Mirabel! For once in my life, I am going to say what I think! I’m mad at myself, and at our family, for how we treated you, and I’m mad at Abuela for encouraging us, and nothing, short of actually showing me what happened yourself, will convince me otherwise!”
The candle flickered wildly, then brightened, casting out a golden glow that overtook the courtyard in a wave of brilliant light. Mirabel pointed up at it, her eyes wide. “Camilo!”
Camilo turned to look up just as the wave of light overtook them. Julieta, Pepa, and Bruno charged through the open door just in time to see Camilo and Mirabel vanishing into the light. The candle faded, then resumed its usual glow, overlooking the empty courtyard,
“...knock on wood?” Bruno whispered faintly, resting his knuckles against the fame of the door.