Bruno picked out 'a third chance' because it sounded like a sequel to 'a second chance' and had all three 5 year old madrigal triplets with alma.
""Lo...siento, Mamá. I wanted more...time...contigo."
~o.8.o~
It was the familiar tone of children crying that pulled her from the dizzying darkness of unconsciousness, though they were ones she hadn't heard in four decades. Blinking her eyes, her blurry vision cleared as she began to make sense of what was hovering over her
Or rather, whom .
Three little faces were crowded around her line of sight, eyes red and cheeks wet with their tears. The most distraught was a little girl with wild flame-colored curls pulled back into a braid, fair skin, and terrified green eyes. She shared the same eye color as the little boy, but that was all. He had tan skin and short black curly hair had been slicked back. The final child was another little girl, a shade darker than the boy, with warm brown eyes and short curly dark brown hair.
Two girls and one boy. All the same age. Triplets.
"What—!" She startled at the sound of her own voice, the cadence of it unfamiliar in its youth, eyes widening. '¡Esa no es mi voz! What's going on?!' Then her breath left her as their words finally registered in her shocked mind.
"—á! Don't leave! ¡Por favor!"
"—siento, lo siento, don't go!"
"—n't want it if it hurt you! ¡Lo odio!"
She wasn't sure what was going on—if this was a dream or if she had finally lost her mind—those thoughts took a backseat to motherly instincts crashing into her like a galloping horse. Slowly trying to push herself up into a sitting position, she found her arms lacking strength. Just as she was about to collapse, Casita moved the back of a chair against her own, supporting her as it slowly pushed her into a sitting position.
"Gracias, Casita." She whispered, patting the tiles beneath her before reaching out towards the children. Despite the weakness in her limbs, the children came easily to her as they clung desperately onto her, their small hands digging into her almost uncomfortably, but she ignored it. Her discomfort meant nothing next to their distress.
"Shh, mis hijos." She cooed, hugging them as tightly as she could. "Todo está bien."
"M-Mamá," the little redhead sobbed, "w-what happened?"
With her arms still around them, she managed to gently stroke the young girl's head, gazing at her—at all of them, in wonder. "I'm not sure, pero...," her brow furrowed as her mind cleared completely, and a new feeling began to build up within her—familiar, yet so much bigger than she was used to. She had always had magic in her, though her Gift wasn't as flashy as the rest of her family. It had connected her to the Miracle, their candle, and to Casita. Now, however, Alma Madrigal felt connected to the entire Encanto.
Looking at her door, she took in the changes that had appeared. Her stylized self was still holding the candle, but the candle was surrounded by what looked like a very tiny depiction of the town. Her eyes were slightly widened as the implications briefly sifted through her mind. She swallowed thickly.
"...I think my Gift...changed?"
~o.8.o~
After calming down her children with further reassurance, Alma decided to put off their Candle Ceremony just a little longer in favor of something she hadn't done as much as she should have.
Wage a tickle war.
It happened when she was in the middle of making Julieta squeal like a pig, the five-year-old flailing her limbs in a futile attempt to escape her madre, when Alma caught a glimpse of her reflection. She froze, the child in her arms calming down as the seconds ticked by,
