Mirabel Had To Go

8. Healing together

Mirabel sat on the edge of a wooden bench, her hands busy stitching an intricate embroidery pattern onto a bright fabric. The sun cast a golden glow over the small village square where she worked alongside Mrs. Julia, a kindhearted woman who had taken her in as a helper at the local tailor shop. 

Maria and Catalina, the innkeeper’s daughters, bustled around, their laughter filling the air as they prepared trays of freshly baked bread for their family’s guests. Mirabel smiled softly as she watched them. In a mere week, they had become the sisters she’d always longed to have—free of judgment, expectations, and the crushing weight of perfection. 

It had been a week since she left Encanto, a week since she’d walked away from the life she had always known. And yet, in that short time, Mirabel felt like she had finally found herself. For the first time, she wasn’t defined by the lack of a gift. She wasn’t the girl who didn’t belong. Here, she was Mirabel—a talented seamstress, a hard worker, and a loyal friend. 

Yet, despite the sense of freedom, her heart ached. 

She missed her family. 

Her mind often wandered back to Antonio’s giggles as he played with the animals, to Camilo’s antics and playful teasing, to Luisa’s quiet strength and warm hugs. Dolores quiet smiles and squeaks. She missed Tío Félix’s loud laugh and Tía Pepa’s comforting storms. She missed sitting with Julieta in the kitchen, helping her roll dough while her father, Agustín, played his off-key accordion. 

Even Isabela’s perfection, which had once stung her with jealousy, was a source of warmth in her memories now. And then there was Abuela Alma, stern and unyielding, but the backbone of their family. Mirabel missed her too, in a way that surprised her most of all. 

And Casita. Oh, how she missed the magic of Casita—the playful tiles, the comforting creaks, and the way it seemed to always know exactly what she needed. 

Family is family. 

Mirabel knew that better than anyone. No matter how much pain Encanto had brought her, it was still her home, and her family was still her family. 

Catalina's voice broke through her thoughts. “Mirabel! Maria and I are going to the market. Want to come with us?” 

Mirabel looked up, blinking away the bittersweet memories. She forced a smile and nodded. “Sure! Just let me finish this stitch.” she finished her stitch and kept the assignment assigned to her by Mrs. Julia on a proper place.

As they walked toward the bustling market, Mirabel clutched the edges of her woven bag tightly. She had found so much in this new life in such little time—freedom, independence, and a sense of self-worth—but she couldn’t deny that a part of her still longed for home. 

Because while she thrived in this port town with its kind people and simple joys, nothing could replace the magic of her family Madrigal...

....

(3 days prior)

The Madrigals emerged from the cracks in the stone valley, the towering walls marking the edge of Encanto behind them. For the first time in generations, members of the Madrigal family stepped beyond the magical borders. The sight of them leaving caused ripples of alarm among the townspeople, but they paid no mind. They had made their decision—they were going to find Mirabel, no matter what. 

Agustín took the lead, his unique perspective as someone who hadn’t been born in Encanto guiding them through the unfamiliar terrain. He carefully searched for tracks or signs of Mirabel’s presence, his determination shining through despite the growing fatigue.