Chapter 36 (Pedro)

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Camilo's POV

She fell to the floor with a blood-curdling scream. Her arms flew around her body to clutch her torso as she rocked back and forth on her knees. Fat drops of tears fell from her eyes and hit the floor, and I realized that her actions were mirroring Abuela's.

Y/N's POV

The pain that had been inflicted on me back when I lived with my parents was nothing compared to the agony I felt at that moment. I felt my heart break a million times, over and over again, and the pain never left no matter how much time had passed.

The pain was unbearable and I wondered how Abuela could endure it. It was not a new wound. Her emotions were not new. She was used to it, but it didn't hurt any less.

The world around me was no longer clear even though I wore glasses to help me see. It was blurry and spun and I could see black smoke from the stove.

I let out another scream between my sobs as another wave of painful emotions crashed over me, this time much more harmful than the rest.

I crumpled to the ground and the world went black.

+++

Abuela stood infront of me. She looked much younger then but I could still recognize the shape of her eyes and the tint of her skin. She was a beautiful woman and aged nicely. I wonder if her personality changed the same way.

She was crossing a river in the night and holding onto a large bundle. The water that sloshed around her was as black as the night sky above us and showed no light, unlike the stars.

Only then did I recognize the grim expression on her face. A crowd of people followed her, but the most significant person spoke to her in a hushed voice.

"Do you think they'll find us?" He murmured to her. She shook her head slightly.

"No," she whispered. "They can't. Not after all they took from us."

The rest of the crowd was silent and all that could be heard was the slosh of water as people tried to move through it. Then, the thunder of hoofs.

Abuela's head snapped up and she whirled around. The crowd around them turned too, stifling gasps. From afar, horses raced towards the crowd of refugees. On each horse was a horseman bearing weapons. They headed towards them with vile intentions.

"Go!" The man shouted. It was Pedro, Abuela's husband. He turned to his wife. "You have to go!" he whispered to her.

Abuela grabbed onto his hand. She struggled to hold the bundle in her arm.

"Come with us," she told him.

There was a determined look on Pedro's face. He shook his head and stepped away as if he'd already made a decision and nothing would stop him from going through with it.

"I can't."

"Pedro!" Abuela gasped. She shook her head. Tears were welling in her eyes and she clutched her bundles closer to her chest. I could hear whatever was in them stir.

Pedro leaned in close and pulled back the blanket from Abuela's bundle. In the blanket were three infants, two with skin the colour of cinnamon, and one with skin the colour of dark cream. I realized that it was Pepa, Julieta, and Bruno.

I'd only heard stories of what had happened. I knew how the Madrigals got their Encanto, but never did I imagine that I'd be able to witness what had happened all of those years ago. It was a lifetime ago that not even Mirabel or Camilo got to see.

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