Casita Was the Only Witness

Camilo & Luisa

"Never wonder would the same pressure ever pull you under..."

With a sigh, Mirabel started down the stairs, finding her search unsuccessful.

"Mirabel!" Camilo's voice came from the direction of Peppa's room. Bucket full of water hanging in his hands, he ran best he could to catch up with her. She was halfway down the stairs when he came to meet her. His shoes squeaked against the woods as he neatly fell forward, which would've dumped water all over her. The Casita caught him before the disaster happened. "Mira! Hey!"

Mirabel rolled her eyes at her cousin. When she reached the bottom of the stairs, she moved to the stone walls. Her hand ran along it as she traced the perimeter. She had been spending the past hour searching for some secret trap door or hole, whatever Doloris meant by "hiding things in the wall." Her patience was spreading thin and Camilo wasn't helping. As she stepped, she did her best to ignore him, gaze fixed on the wall.

Camilo peered over her shoulder, still keeping his back slouched. "What are you doing?" When she didn't answer, he nudged her with his elbow.

"Checking for any evidence since according to your parents, I get only two days to prove my innocence. I don't get to take a minute to mourn." She was still upset at him for his comment earlier, and combined with the mess of the day, she wasn't in a great mood. She glanced back at him, questioning the bucket. "What are you doing?"

"With, well, you know-" He scrunched his shoulders, frowning. "My mama's room was starting to flood, so papa and I are helping control the mess." Shifting the bucket to one arm, he rubbed the back of his neck. "Mira, I just wanted to sorry about this morning. I didn't think you actually killed Abuela. But I hope you find out who did." Camilo shot her an awkward smile.

She paused her steps, staring at him. "What is wrong with you?"

"What?"

"Our grandmother died and you just smile and make jokes! Someone in our family is a murderer! Don't you understand?" She threw her arms out, growing frustrated.

He flinched at her words, nearly spilling the weighty bucket. His smile wavered, finally falling into a frown. "I do." Tears tugged at his eyes. "I'm just not use to grief, so I'm not quite sure how to process it. I'm supposed to be the fun guy, but..." His voice broke off as he turned away. "I don't really know what to do right now."

Mirabel loosened her stance. Camilo avoided eye contact with her. The house echoed with silence. Rubbing her arm, she tried a comforting smile. "I don't really know what to do either." Taking the bucket from him, she drew his attention. "Maybe if we work together, we can figure this out."

"Really?" With a small smile, he perked up some. "Sure. What do you have so far?"

"...Nothing?" She quirked her lips, unsure. "Your sister told me to check the walls, but so far I haven't exactly figured out what that means."

"Oh yeah, she's weird." Shrugging, Camilo marched on. He glanced up, staring over the bottom of the balcony. "Have you checked the scene of the crime yet?"

Catching up with him, Mirabel smacked her palm to her forehead. "How did I not think of that?"

"And that's why you'd never make it as a detective." Camilo shot her a finger gun.

Soon, the pair found themselves at the same place they had stood that morning. All clean up was done. Abuela's body had been taken in preparation for the funeral and no bloody spots remained.

"Aw, come on." Camilo's arms sagged.

Mirabel paced the area, searching for any clues. "Blood stains... How did they get this cleaned up so fast?"