Mirabel Had To Go

9. Lost

The forest was dense, its overgrown greenery a stark reminder of how much time had passed since Agustín last walked this path. The canopy overhead filtered the sunlight into soft, scattered beams, but the underbrush was thick and tangled. Agustín led the group, machete in hand, trying to clear the way for his family. Sweat dripped down his forehead, and his movements were slower now, weighed down by worry and frustration. 

Julieta, walking beside him, placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “You’re doing your best,” she said gently, her voice soothing like a balm. “We’ll find her.” 

Agustín let out a heavy sigh, gripping the machete tightly. “But what if my best isn’t enough? What if I can’t even guide us to her?” His voice wavered with guilt, and his eyes dropped to the ground. 

Julieta stopped walking and gently turned him to face her. “You’ve always been enough,” she said firmly, her kind eyes meeting his. “Mirabel knows how much you love her. She knows we’re coming for her. Don’t doubt yourself.” 

Further behind, Félix walked next to Dolores, who had her head tilted slightly as she concentrated. “Do you hear anything, mija?” he asked, his usual cheer muted by concern. 

Dolores closed her eyes, her brow furrowing. She listened intently, filtering through the cacophony of forest sounds—the rustle of leaves, the chirps of birds, the distant scurry of small animals. Finally, she shook her head, disappointment clear in her expression. “Just animals. No sign of Mirabel.” 

Félix placed a reassuring arm around her shoulders. “It’s okay. We’ll keep looking. You’re doing great.” 

Isabela, walking near the back of the group, glanced nervously at her uncle Bruno, who was scanning the ground for any signs or tracks. His movements were awkward, almost hesitant, as though he wasn’t sure he should even be there. 

“Tío Bruno?” Isabela asked tentatively, stepping closer to him. 

Bruno looked up, startled. “Hmm? What is it, Isa?” 

She hesitated, wringing her hands. “Could you… maybe use your gift? Just to see if Mirabel’s safe?” 

Bruno froze, his eyes widening. “I… I don’t know,” he stammered. “What if I see something bad? What if I disappoint her—or all of you? What if—” 

Seeing his stricken expression, Isabela quickly shook her head. “No, no. It’s okay. If you don’t want to, you don’t have to.” Her voice softened, and she looked down, fiddling with a strand of her hair. “I know how it feels to be forced to use your gift when you don’t want to. I wouldn’t want you to feel that way.” 

Bruno blinked at her, his heart heavy with guilt and gratitude. Before he could say anything, Luisa walked over and gently wrapped an arm around Isabela’s shoulders. “You’re right,” Luisa said quietly, giving Bruno a small, sad smile. “No one should be made to use their gift if they’re not ready.” 

The sisters shared a quiet moment before they returned to the search, leaving Bruno standing there, deep in thought. 

As Bruno mulled over Isabela’s words, Pepa approached him. She placed a tentative hand on his shoulder, her usual stormy demeanor replaced by a rare calm. “Bruno,” she began, her voice soft but steady. “Do you remember my wedding day?” 

Bruno winced slightly, unsure where this was going. “Uh, yeah. How could I forget? It was… a lot.” 

Pepa let out a small, rueful laugh. “You told me it was going to rain. And I—I thought you ruined my day. I let my emotions spiral, and then there was a hurricane. A *literal* hurricane.”