If enough attention was paid to each Duck triplet, it was remarkable that, while together they were a recognizable team, independents had their own strengths.

The triplet dressed in red was intelligent and temperamental. You constantly saw her in the public library, writing in her guidebook or accompanying her Woodchuck troop. It is who mostly participates in classes.

The triplet dressed in blue was the energetic, theater kid. You constantly saw him in the school plays or surrounded by people both in the classroom and in the cafeteria. It is who, in turn, participates more in P.E.

And the triplet dressed in green was schematic and greedy. You constantly saw him in the halls with his cellphone, chatting with students in a discreet attempt to defraud them or simply observing his surroundings parsimoniously. He's the most relaxed, but who had the highest average in math.

It could be said that Dahlia always knew what to say — unless she should lie, of course. Dewford always knew when to act.

On the other hand, Llewellyn always knew how to act.

He didn't know if he went oblivious or they just ignored him, but the occasions when he looked up from his cellphone or while scribbling in his notebook were not meaningless. Maybe it gave a lazy perspective on him, but that didn't mean he didn't do anything unlike his brothers.

Well, not always.

Because yes, each triplet had its own virtue. Louie's, however, was discreet.

And he was the observer.

Of course, all three had sharp eyes; but by not focusing on an extracurricular activity, he could focus on certain aspects that his siblings don't.

For example, how Dollie was uncomfortable when they highlighted her masculine features — which, by the way, were still not very noticeable as they still did not enter puberty — and how her shoulders tensed, trying to keep calm so that a outburst didn't get her in trouble with the teachers.

Until it turned out and, of course, it ended up in Uncle Donald arguing with the headmaster for allowing teasing and insults towards his niece.

Or how Dewey watched his arm during the exams, believing himself to be subtle enough. He never said anything in defense of his brother. Sometimes he was discovered, sometimes not, but that allowed his older brother to maintain good grades, at least within the average.

Or how stressed Donald looked day to day.

And that technically was the most unnoticed, so Louie was surprised to be able to visualize it because, as notorious as it was, his uncle commonly tried not to prove it, much less in front of them.

But the more he grew, the more obvious it was, and the harder it was for him to keep quiet about it.

Four-years-old. The nights when he woke up due to a nightmare and went to seek comfort in his uncle's arms, he stopped in his steps when he not saw him in his room and, instead, saw him in the dining room with a calculator, a notebook and several papers surrounding him. Some had words written in red, words whose meaning would be sure he would look for the next morning with support from his brother, but he knew they should be important if they kept him up late at night. His nightshirt looked wrinkled and his feathers scruffy.

While that was the first time he saw him in that state, it certainly wasn't the last, always hidden on the stairs.

Anyway, whatever kept his father figure occupied did not allow him to see that one of the ducklings was awake.

"Each time they are more indebted, and I can't ask for help from... it would be one more." Donald muttered every night, and Louie never understood how the sentence ended, or who he mentioned, but he was sure he was always a different person. Sometimes a group of people.

That was the beginning of the most durable nanny stays; and certainly the ones that he and his brothers enjoyed most were Cousin Max, triplets that were friends with his uncle, and Grandma Duck.

The greatest dose of good luck was when Uncle Gladstone suddenly came to visit with Grandma. He could say that a small part of his uncle's debts had been reduced, and perhaps that was the most tearful thanks he could have given.

Six-years-old. One more move. His uncle was not clear about it, but the triplets were already accustomed to them. Of course, every time the residences and apartments became smaller, impossible for a small broken family to support.

The only difference is that on that occasion they went to a small houseboat. He had heard Donald talk about one last hope, and he really seemed hesitant to let three hyperactive toddlers be in the limited space of a boat that clearly needed repairs.

That was the last move. And although the visits of Max, April, May and June were critically reduced and Grandma looked after them selflessly, they made her uncle's absences more noticeable; sometimes shorter, sometimes longer, and Louie couldn't help crying silently when he recognized the gentle, familiar touch tucking him and stroking his hair, to end with a kiss on his head.

"I'm so sorry, boys." Donald will apologize every night, his voice broken, and the desire to get up and snuggle in his arms, crying how much he missed him, it didn't spare him.

Don't get him wrong, he loves both Elvira and Max, and he got fond of the triplets. But they were not the person who changed his diapers — with the occasional exception of his grandmother — and taught him to talk and walk.

But he knew he couldn't. Being so considerate of them, it would amount to more time at home and less time at work, it would amount to more economic difficulties.

Louie couldn't be the evil triplet with his uncle. Much less when less than a week ago he had heard him cry during a phone call, begging to keep his job.

And while he never told his brothers about it, that image was still in his head.

He didn't want it to be repeated.

Seven-years-old. It could be said that living in a small place further sharpened the sight of an imaginative preschool child. Like the way in which, during the month, the shopping list was shortened, particularly when their birthdays or Christmas approached; how restless his uncle got when there were sales, and how concentrated he looked while comparing prices.

And how his knuckles tightened in the shopping cart when there were whispers and murmurs dedicated to them.

Apparently single parents are not a common thing in Duckburg, especially in the case of triplets, but it was no lie that Louie was happy with them despite the many difficulties.

He recognizes the expression on Donald's face when he tries not to have an outburst of anger and prefers to make deaf ears, making calculations and trying to make purchases with a low budget.

And to tell the truth, it was Louie's cusp moment to approach the carts of people who spoke ill of their uncle to take what he can while they are distracted...

Occasionally it was from the shelves where he took the food from, and fortunately his visualization of the angles allowed him to recognize when to do his thing, counting on brothers who covered his back.

The important thing was to have food in their fridge.

That year is founded Louie's Kids, and though it is difficult, he cannot say no to his uncle's smile, always willing to help even if it's out of his way.

Who knows, maybe one day he's as rich as Scrooge McDuck and can help Donald. Huey already does it with the electricity bill after all.

Nine years-old. Dahlia Duck is born.

He had never seen his sister so scared since joining the Junior Woodchucks — and, honestly and surprisingly, it had been merely good luck that his Uncle Donald will still have his uniform of his time in the troop.

But she was very intelligent, and it wouldn't be long until her gender dysphoria, whatever that was, had meaning.

And he couldn't be more grateful for it. He loved Dollie very much but having seen her so nervous and not being able to ask her without her becoming a trembling mass was driving him crazy.

"I have a sister!" Dewey would shout at the four winds before pouncing on her and hugging her between laughs.

He had simply raised his thumb in support, and for some reason his uncle was on the verge of tears. He had shared a few words with his sister alone and finally saw them again while they prepared dinner together.

And though everything had finished well and during the next few days her sister's poles had modernized and were now dresses, in addition to the addition of skirts and overalls to the closet — courtesy of an adult who made Halloween costumes for almost a decade —, it had made that adult more overprotective.

"Let me know if they bother you." For some reason, he looked more nervous than usual while arranging his niece's cap, even aghast, the smaller triplet thought while he finished his breakfast.

"Yes, Uncle Donald," the little duckling replied once more, finishing fixing her backpack to continue helping Donald as she used to do every morning.

The adult sighed, finishing preparing the last lunch.

"I know I've said it many times, but not everyone reacts the same, even in the 21st century there are people who feel superior to you for thinking differently and... I just want you to be well." He had crossed his arms, and his gaze had turned bright and distant.

"I know," smiling gently, his older sister ceasing to help her guardian to hug him, not caring if she wrinkled her clothes.

He didn't know what they had talked about, but apparently it had made them closer, and for some reason he couldn't face it.

So he did what he always did and preferred to get distracted and continue eating before his breakfast finished chilling. Although he will try to hide it from his nephews and niece, Louie's keen eye was still feeling his uncle's tension.

He always sensed his uncle's tension.

But it wasn't until they arrived at the school that they knew that not everyone reacted the same to Donald Duck, and the comments had not been expected for the first class.

And though the siblings had already made up their mind, it was not easy, much less for their uncle in the last PTA meeting.

Since that day he has seen his uncle looking for another school in which to enroll his wards, one in which his sister can be accepted; dedicating a small part of their reduced salaries in savings for a new educational institution.

He had honestly never seen his uncle so determined on a goal. This goal discovered an afternoon in which he did not attend classes due to illness.

That made Louie wonder how a man as dedicated and hardworking as his uncle struggled so hard to find a steady job.

Unfortunately, not everything turned out well if you were the most unlucky duck in the world, and that led to today: the every-day bullies bothering his sister. This time using her Junior Woodchucks guidebook as an object of fun.

It would be better for him to act soon, before Dollie's temper makes its own.

Ten-years-old. They begin to accompany Donald in his varied works.

The triplets had reached a consensus in which they already considered themselves too old to need a babysitter, and their uncle refused to leave them alone, already aware of how naughty they can be by joining minds.

So they decided to be unanimous and there they were.

Maybe they couldn't be outside his radio unless it was necessary, but that allowed them to leave the houseboat and they were satisfied.

After all, who claimed they couldn't have adventures if they intended? They were young and the imagination had no boundaries.

Surprisingly it made him discover that his uncle could be multitasking, and doubts about his unemployment were resolved to the bad character and awful luck which he was possessor of, in addition to the distancing when the improvement of position promised the family.

What was really the reason why his Uncle Donald wanted to maintain a normal life, a common job and an average family? Louie thought day after day. Normal, common and average bored.

New employment, more money and little by little it seemed that his uncle's bankruptcy was diminishing, though the difficulties continued to arise in the form of tax collectors, job losses, bank calls, bills that Donald vainly concealed and again the acquisition of nannies.

It didn't help at all that they had not known about Uncle Gladstone for months.

But hey, it was nothing they weren't used to. Louie was sure that sooner or later his uncle's efforts will bear fruit.

Or he was, until he discovered that he had more family than he thought.

"Donald Duck..." there had been so many scenarios in which he had imagined knowing Scrooge McDuck, one less likely than another.

"Uncle Scrooge..." wait, what?

And certainly that was not one of them.