**Chapter 1: The Weight of Family Expectations**

Luisa Rivera's eyes fluttered open, and she was immediately met with the warm glow of the morning sun peeking through the colorful papel picado that adorned the ceiling of her family's modest home in Santa Cecilia. She stretched her arms, yawned, and swung her legs over the side of the bed, her feet dangling in the air. The familiar creak of the old wooden floorboards beneath her feet was a comforting sound, one that she had grown up with. As she stood up, Luisa's gaze fell upon the vibrant photographs that covered the walls of her room. There were pictures of her family, her friends, and her abuela, Imelda, who had passed away when Luisa was just a child. But it was the picture of her and her cousin, Héctor, that caught her attention. They were both smiling, their arms wrapped around each other, and their eyes shining with mischief. Luisa's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of her mother, Julieta, calling out from downstairs. "Luisa, m'ija! Get down here and help me with breakfast!" Luisa quickly made her way downstairs, her long, dark hair bouncing with each step. The kitchen was already filled with the delicious aromas of traditional Mexican breakfast dishes. Julieta was busy at the stove, expertly flipping tortillas and cooking up a storm. Luisa's stomach growled in anticipation as she took a seat at the table. "Buenos días, Mami," Luisa said, giving her mother a quick kiss on the cheek. "Buenos días, m'ija," Julieta replied, smiling. "Today's a big day. Your father, Agustín, has a meeting with the town's musicians to discuss the upcoming Día de los Muertos celebrations." Luisa's eyes lit up. "Oh, yeah! I almost forgot. We have to make sure everything is perfect for the festivities." As they ate breakfast, Luisa's mind began to wander. She had always loved the Día de los Muertos celebrations, but this year, she couldn't shake off the feeling that there was something more expected of her. Something that her family had been hinting at for a while now. After breakfast, Luisa helped her mother with the household chores, but her mind kept drifting back to the conversation she had overheard between her parents a few nights ago. Something about her future, and the family's expectations of her... Just as Luisa was starting to get lost in thought, her father, Agustín, walked into the kitchen, a look of determination on his face. "Luisa, m'ija, we need to talk." Luisa's heart skipped a beat as she wondered what her father wanted to discuss with her. Was it about her future, or was it something more? She looked at her mother, who was watching her with a knowing glance. "What is it, Papi?" Luisa asked, her voice barely above a whisper. Agustín took a deep breath before speaking, "Your abuela, Imelda, had a certain... tradition in mind for our family. A tradition that has been passed down through generations of Riveras." Luisa's curiosity was piqued. What could this tradition be? And how would it affect her life? She leaned in, eager to hear more...