"Camilo, you're too young to be drinking that and you know it."
"Pffffft, it's worth a shot."
Dolores huffed. Death cards on the table and Camilo was drinking aguardiente.
*
Dolores figured the reasons she had chosen Camilo, of all people to vent to, were pretty damn obvious.
First off, Camilo didn't get angry. Sure, he got sad, disgusted, or scared like any other person, but anger seemed to be completely erased. And to Dolores, that was valuable. She'd gotten into plenty of fights before that had ended in both verbal and physical assault, she wasn't ready to deal with that again, so to have someone who, at their worst, would just sob- That was valuable to Dolores, however cruel she felt thinking that.
Even better, unlike other members of the Madrigal household, Camilo was good at keeping panic to himself. The only times he could get out of hand was in front of a crowd, and even then, all that happened was an episode of glitching, so naturally, Dolores thought to herself, "perfect!". In short words, Camilo most likely wasn't going to break down any time soon in front of the adults...
But that didn't mean that when Dolores shared her knowledge, she wasn't still taking a huge risk.
*
The whole tangled up mess had started on a fairly normal night... In other words, yes, the family was fighting, and Dolores had retreated to Isabela's outdoor haven in an attempt to rid herself of the rather harsh words being flung. Doing this muffled the screams from inside just a little, enough so that she couldn't make out what they were saying exactly if she forced herself to concentrate on something else, but...
They were still there. The voices were still there, and they were so loud... She had contemplated running behind her door, where there would be no sound at all. That would be so peaceful... But Dolores refused her own selfish desires. There had been too many "incidents" where she could have completely prevented beforehand by simply knowing, but she hadn't. Those "incidents" stuck in her mind like bullets. She couldn't forget them, they were still there, they could still happen and-
But we aren't allowed to talk about them anymore. But we prevent them. We don't take chances anymore.
So... That was the main reason why.
*
Inside she had made a stand from the balcony. Had yelled against her better judgment. She stood up for Luisa, for Bruno, who quite literally, didn't have a voice to scream for himself. Stood up for what Camilo and Mirabel would soon become (Dolores refused to let them turn out like Isabela. Isa could deny her pain as much as she wanted, but Dolores didn't- couldn't- take her bait.)
And so... Yes. Dolores was pissed off. Rightly so. If she had made Luisa take off but one day in her life besides Sunday, (and even those were becoming rare) why should someone care? Abuela had been long gone, the rest of the adults were downstairs, completely clueless... Perfect. Dolores convinced both herself and Luisa that this was the best thing. She'd seen Bruno's vision, she had to do something, for heaven's sake! No one else would. If forcing Luisa to take a break would help, then so damn well be it.
In knowing Bruno's vision of Mirabel, of Casita breaking, she knew too much not to fight back against the toxic family standards. (She would learn, however, in later years that sometimes it's best to be submissive, fighting back, it's... just not worth it after all. Fit in with the crowd and at least you earn an ounce of respect for a while.)
And really, what had been Dolores' long-term plan? Whatever it was, it sure as hell didn't work; Abuela came back early, found that Dolores had done what she wanted to do with standards, had taken over as temporary leader of the household. At least for the grandchildren.
Her leadership hadn't been satisfactory, and in front of Abuela, Dolores cried. She'd never be good enough for her, no matter how hard she, or any of the others tried to make things work...
And that's when it dawned that helping, or should she dare say, preventing? Things didn't work, because people only hold certain rules up to par when they have a problem, they don't believe you when you try and warn them.
It also furnished itself in Dolores' mind for the final time she'd never be good enough. For what she wanted to do, which was lead the proper way, or even good enough at simply being a Madrigal.
Again, she'd failed so many times. Got screamed at so many times. Got- trusted- but- not- as- much- as- before so many times... And the cycle repeats. That wasn't what was supposed to happen. That wasn't who she was supposed to be.
Supposed.
Luisa would never be strong enough, Isabela wouldn't be perfect enough, Camilo wouldn't be happy enough, he wasn't allowed to glitch- What standards were set in place that she, or any of them under that they had to live in a mindset of "work until you drop"? And what could Dolores do to stop it?
"Calm..." She hummed, slowly rocking back and forth on her swing. She was on her swing... She was in Isabela's garden.
The family was inside.
They couldn't hurt her here.
*
Calm...
Truly, what had she done wrong here? Be the only person who showed any outward care? Was that her only crime?
Perhaps. And if so, that was sad.
A crack.
A shuffle.
Dolores tilted her head up.
Ugh.
One lone crow, feathers sleeked back, a bright eye on the watch. For her. Dolores could practically feel it's cold gaze on her skin. She shivered.
It has to be said Dolores despised a crow... For one, the fact a group of them was called a murder, that in itself was off-putting. Second, crows were considered bad luck, and three...
Because Bruno had a connection. Please forgive Dolores if that was all she'd like to say on the matter for now.
She turned her head back around, letting her long skirts twist themselves behind her. She squinted in the dim light.
An old, bloody, yellowed card so conveniently placed beside her- She whipped her head around to catch the trickster, perhaps one of the crows had laid it beside her in their mischief, but no one was there. In faint scratching of a blue pen, the card read, in bold letters:
CAMBID.
*
Okay, let's just pause for a moment, Dolores would like to get something straight. She had had no intentions of keeping the card a secret for this long. She planned on announcing her find three days later, when the family had calmed themselves down, but she never did.
All she wanted to keep the peace for as long as she could.
Just listen.
She had bundled up in one of Casita's many broom closets, seated on her knees with a lantern, and note in hand. Upon hearing footsteps outside, she quickly turned the lamp shutters down. Way down.
Dolores had barely breathed when she unfolded the card. She brushed the cobwebs away and squinted to see the word, and what was beside it- Again.
"Who is it..." She whispered to herself. Through tangled, childlike drawings did she make the very initials of the Madrigals scattered on the page. Every. Single. One. For Pepa, Julieta, Felix, Luisa, even two A's had been scrawled beside the others (this confused Dolores a bit, as there was still an A in the acronym- what gives?)... But that in itself didn't interest Dolores. No, what interested her was the fact that those letters were scratched out from one, from one word, and now that she examined the word closer, she noticed that the blood splattering's were a little too... convenient. Just like when she'd found the card in the first place. Too convenient. Staged. Downright terrifying. The red drops settled above each hand scrawled letter.
CAMBID.
Camilo. Mirabel. Bruno. Isabela. Dolores.
What the A stood for she had two choices, and only one had made much sense at the time. Abuela Alma. The family matriarch. In other words, the person who was respected at all costs. Otherwise, you end up a traitor.
Which was part the reason why Dolores kept this a secret for so long, to decrease suspicion.
But Dolores couldn't believe it was Alma. Couldn't be. The main reason being a small drawing at the bottom of the page. Of birthday balloons and a present. Alma being the A was too random for being placed on that... convenient letter, if you got Dolores' gist.
It was meant to be obvious, so why couldn't she figure it out?
The present...
*
Only when Pepa announced the name of her third- born did the note, and the drawing finally make perfect sense.
*
This all led to tonight, seven whole years later, when Dolores finally mustered up the courage to tell a soul, on the day. At one a.m.
The mentality of "I've still got time, I'll tell tomorrow, just one more day of peace" turned out to be, quite possibly, the stupidest thing she had ever done. Now time had run out. So...
Great idea, Dolores, really smart, a round of applause.
*
"So..." Camilo crooned. "A glass for you or no?"
Dolores shook her head. Camilo lifted the bottle, but soon enough set it down in a wave of frustration and distraction. Dolores let out a silent sigh of relief.
Don't get into that stuff, you'll only regret it in the long run.
He rocked back in his chair. "But you just dropped something huge. Really, there was no way you could've told sooner, even to me? I wouldn't have got you into trouble, but we could've had a plan somehow. I mean, this card has blood on it, are you seriously going to sit there and ignore that? I'm not, this is Antonio's life at stake here, for all we know."
"As well as both of ours."
Camilo nodded. "Yes. There also must be a reason this is tonight specifically. Three A's. Why the hell is this so obvious but so vague to me, am I crazy?!"
Dolores shivered in the night air, raising her voice a touch to compete with her brother, who was being unreasonably loud. "The thing is, I found that at fourteen. Kept it, never let it out of my desk drawer, but... How would the people who know about CAMIBD know about Antonio if Antonio wasn't even thought of yet?"
Camilo flinched, coughing up some phlegm. "The only logical answer is Bruno, but he died years before you found that, unless, of course..."
Dolores leaned forward.
*
"Dolores, you... don't have a part in this, no?"
And now came the part where Dolores wanted to carve her ears out with a wooden spoon and drop them down a fucking well. Her blood ran cold.
Camilo, hell, everyone believed Bruno was long dead, had committed suicide on the day of Mirabel's ceremony. Placed in an uncomfortable situation, she kept that rumor alive and well, to protect him and the child he'd taken in.
Even though Dolores knew a lot of secrets about Bruno, kept them close, he showed no sign of suspicion with CAMBID. Bruno, as far as Dolores' knowledge went, didn't even know about that card that she'd written him about in their letters. If he did, he was careful. In Dolores' mind, she couldn't see him as being anything less than innocent.
So, what gives? Two choices, and neither were particularly good, you had Bruno being the traitor the family thought he was all along, or... something else had occurred.
Which undoubtedly scared Dolores all the more as she couldn't deal with the unknown. It's unexpected, you don't even have a base line to work off of when it comes to trust.
See, this is the problem with advanced hearing. You expect to be able to know everything, but in reality, all Dolores had caught was the wrong end of conversations, confusing her information, and the rest were just pure inconvenience. (For sure, she hadn't wanted to hear intimate date nights while she was out on the town, but sadly, she'd gotten quite used to the sounds of passionate sex. Disgusting.)
*
There was nothing valuable in hearing so much. Dolores only heard; she didn't know.
She didn't know squat, and that bugged her.
And now, with Cami staring her down in typical suspicious little brother fashion, she came to the decision she had to say something or face the consequences of distrust. But what? Something like: "Yes, I probably do. I've kept your creepy uncle and Co. secret in the walls for ten years, and he is most likely the origin of this even creepier 'CAMBID' card, but I have no proof, so why am I even telling you this right now?"
No. No way in hell. So, maybe... Maybe this whole conversation had been a mistake to start with.
"Of course not," Dolores snapped. "If I was in on this 'CAMBID' nonsense, why in the living daylights would I put my name on there?"
Camilo nodded, very slowly.
Dolores frowned.
After a moment, he spoke again, glancing behind him like a nervous cat. "I don't want Abuela or Mama catching wind of this, but..."
He paused. Dolores frantically motioned for him to continue, but Camilo simply shook his head, switched to sign. Dolores noticed he stiffened up quite a lot within the past few seconds, and that unnerved her. Just slightly. Camilo didn't do that.
"Dolores, you're the one who would suffer the most from their Gift."
Dolores sucked in a breath. He didn't dare think- He wouldn't...
"I don't doubt you to want your Gift taken back, and in our situation, we can't really get rid of the magic, so I sort of thought..."
Camilo let his hands drop. Dolores froze. What Camilo said relieved her to some extent, thought she didn't know if he truly meant the sentences, or made them up to ensure comfort. He signed next:
"... I'm wrong though, I know it, but, my thing is, I don't know for certain whether or not this is deaths door or not, the cards? But the picture of the present at the bottom is definitely a symbolism for our Gifts, and what if CAMBID is just a way to disarm us from them somehow so they could do something...? Okay, I'll stop."
Dolores had begun pacing around the room. The sad thing is, Dolores could sense exactly where he was coming from. Camilo laughed though, cutting eyes.
"I apologize though," he said. "From when I told you I suspected you had a part in this, you had this really weird look on your face? Dolores, you're a horrible actress, I can't pinpoint blame onto you when it's obvious you have just as much information as I do at this point."
They shook hands. "I trust you, don't worry."
Dolores smiled slightly.
*
Camilo quickly brought the topic back a little. Classic Cami. Bring up a serious subject only to break the tension by his own stupidity.
"And now!" Camilo raised a full shot glass with the aguardiente and whipped his ruana around dramatically, like a cape. "For the alcohol, cuz as weird as this night is already, I'm damn sure not letting this be any more normal than it has to be."
He caught Dolores' disappointed stare. "Hey, you only live once, am I right? And who knows, I might die tomorrow so I kind of have an excuse here."
Poor kid. He'd never drank before, and it showed. If he had, he'd probably be a lot less excited to pick up that bottle...
Dolores might have laughed a little bit at his antics though. Camilo was decidedly unamused.
Sure enough, her laughs became a little louder than she intended them to as Camilo sputtered the toxic drink up, his powers glitching into a new record! Thirty- six people in sixteen seconds, including four of the Fish Lady's kids, the baker, half the Madrigal household, plus random people Dolores couldn't recognize and a wrinkly baby head with a beard.
Dolores triumphantly removed the alcohol quickly from the premises, sending back a look that clearly meant, "See, I told you so." Camilo slouched down in his seat, still a little taken aback.
"Fair."
"Very fair."
"Y'know, I'm not one to usually admit when I act a little stupid, but I feel like now is a good time to be grateful Abuela's room in on the other side of the house, hmm?"
Dolores furrowed her brow. "Yes, you dolt, I would've sent you back to bed otherwise, because God knows you've never quite grasped the concept of whispering."
"Now I'm thinking you're just being petty."
"Maybe because I am, and because I needed someone to talk to, so I kinda sorta dropped coins down the hall to wake you up."
"You!"
Shh!"
*
Camilo was never a child to willingly put himself in dangerous situations. (Save pranking the blacksmith and such, but that didn't count, as his reward was making the children laugh, keeping them happy, that was his responsibility. He kept his reputation this way, that's all.) So, when he slid the card off the table and put it in his own pocket, that... was a little weird to Dolores. There was no reward for him here, in fact, pure opposite.
It didn't help that the acronym had placed Camilo's name as first. The C. Dolores' mind had already placed him to be the start of CAMBID.
How was he giggling now?
Camilo shoved his chair under the table and gazed at Dolores for a while. His breaths were so slow, so relaxed...
Dolores jumped when he finally spoke.
"Yeah." He said, in a flat tone of voice. "I'm going back to bed for now and just pray that this is all just a really, really weird dream, alright?"
Then he left.
*
The clock ticked by very slowly that night.
(Author's note: It's not as polished as I had wanted, but I just wanted to move on from this chapter lol hope you guys like it. Please feel free to comment, I love reading them!)