Generations of Miracles

Dolores

"Mariano, do you know what Luisa did with the gemelos?" Dolores asked, shouting through her soundproofed door. She pinned the final strand of hair into her high style. She could sympathise with her cousin's daughter Lorena for letting her similarly curly hair tumble down her shoulders.

"Luisa?" her husband called. "I think she gave them to Mirabel, who gave them to Lorena, who gave them to Helena?"

"My children are pass the parcels," she muttered.

Biting her lip, she crossed her room to the array of ears that functioned on her wall, representing each citizen in the paradise around the casita. Outside her bedroom, all the voices screamed in her head. But here... here, she could have a little peace.

When she was young, she adored being able to hear about everything. Her favourite was always listening in on birthday presents. Until it was her birthday. Then... then, well, everything fell apart.

Dolores's gift ceremony was the only private one in Madrigal history. Well, so to speak. She ventured into her room alone. She liked her gift, yes, but... it wasn't a blessing. Often, she wished that she'd gotten it easy like Mirabel – and then she realised how difficult life was for Mirabel. It was all too... difficult.

Sighing, crossed the room to search for the ear labelled 'Lola Madrigal – Nursery, La Casa Madrigal.'

Or at least, she hoped it would say 'La Casa Madrigal'. Not 'La Casa Cardona' with her best friend, Marcelo Cardona, or 'La plaza del pueblo'. Or, god forbid, 'Las Montañas del Encanto'...

Luckily, the ears were all organised into groups per family. La Familia Madero, La Familia Madina... La Familia Madrigal!

Over the years, these names had grown rapidly. A first generation Madrigal, three second generations, six third generations, and 16 fourth generations – and the many husbands and wives of the Madrigals, which all technically counted. 33 ears to choose from.

They were all organised like proper family trees, thank goodness. Abuela. Pepa and Felix Madrigal. Dolores and Mariano Madrigal-Guzman.

Helena, Monica, Manuel, Bruno Jr. and Lola. The five children that Mariano had always dreamed of. They all felt like talismans burning on her chest. But a good burn. Like the feel of Lorena's floorboards – hot, burning – but homely, kind. Loving.

Lola Madrigal... Lola Madrigal, La Cámara de la Danza, La Montaña de las Maravillas!

¡Ese pequeño diablo! Dolores thought. The Mountain of Wonders was a vast house, shapes like a mountain of the Encanto – and was not a place for a five year old – the only time the Madrigals let anyone under ten venture in there was their parent's birthday. Yes, it was just the Chamber of Dance – which was just traditional Columbian dances – but sometimes, the lowlife men in the La Taberna de los Carpinchos in the room next door... no. Alejandra wasn't even allowed to take Salsa Caleña lessons in the dance studio there, but had gotten her lessons from Isabela and Dolores herself.

Alejandra, who was 17, wasn't allowed in there.

Lola... Lola was five.

Dolores immediately scanned for Bruno Jr. Sure enough, the inseparable twins remained together. They were so glued together, only one door was glittering for someone to claim – and Julieta, Bruno and Pepa – triplets – had had a consecutive door each.

A cold fury burned inside of her. Tonight was for her twins. Tonight was for her youngest babies. Tonight, they would get to their door.

And whether it was a ceremony like Mirabel's or not, they would be happy. And she would make sure they would be happy.

Cold determination in her eyes, she walked out of the door. Her babies were coming home. They were coming home – and getting to their door.