Panic. Panic is what set in when she died in my arms. Not sadness, not guilt, not regret. Panic. A million situations popped into my mind. Would this child, my son, stay with me? Would he go back to his mongrel of a father? Gustave. Gustave de Chagny? Gustave...what? I don't... I don't have a surname for him to take. Will he love me? Could he love me? I barely know this child. My son. I don't know this first thing about raising a child, but just the sound of it makes me love him.
Christine told me that he was my son. Was she implying that I take him away from de Chagny? I must consult Madame Giry. Giry. Meg Giry had killed my love. The mother of my son! How could I ever forget Little Giry? I couldn't call her a sister- we had barely spoken a full conversation. But I should hate her. But I should understand why she did it. My mind was spinning. Spinning and spinning and spinning and the next thing I knew, I was attending her funeral. Keeping my face hidden with a mask, I stood next to Gustave by the Daae tomb in Paris.
My mind spun some more when I checked into a too elegant hotel with my son. I was so unsure how to console him. We were both equally upset, but for very different reasons. I could not cry in front of him- he wouldn't understand. I was upset at myself for not staying with her that night. For not sharing the joy of finding out she was with child. For not pacing back and forth as she was going through the pains of childbirth. For not holding our dear son for the first time. No, I couldn't cry. Not when he could see me at least. I waited until he was fast asleep to cry about lost opportunities, Christine's death, and my son's future with me. I cried for myself, for the beatings and name calling, and I silently thanked the world for blessing him with a perfect cherub face.
I knew we couldn't stay in Paris, so I decided to travel to Germany. I knew I couldn't face New York again, but I couldn't go too far away from France. We would set off on horse back, hopefully taking as least of stops as possible. I hoped to find a nice home in the country, but I at least wanted it close to a town so Gustave could make friends. I hope to be the best father I can be.