The last ballerina departs from the changing room, leaving only fourteen year old Antoinette Giry, who's hidden by a mass of feathers as she searches for her missing ballet slipper in a pile of old costumes and feather boas. She's frantically digging through the pile, more and more worried about her tardiness and the loss of her ballet slipper. That's when an odd creak registers in her ear. She pushes aside a wad of a dress and peers around the room. The door to one of the armoires is ever so slightly open. She watches it, her heart pounding, imagining all the things that could come out of there. It could be a thief or a flasher or a murderer! But after several tense minutes, when nothing comes, she turns uneasily back to her search. But then the creak comes again and quick as a flash she spun around and saw the tip of a black boot sticking out from the armoire. Anger and disbelief surged in Antoinette. She threw aside the dress she was holding and marched over to the armoire. Reaching inside, she grabbed onto a shirt and jerked out the young boy inside.

"Erik! You were spying on the ballerinas?" Antoinette shrieked in a whispered.

Erik's yellow eyes widened. He seemed to realize he was in a lot of trouble. Antoinette grabbed Erik by the ear and dragged him out and hustled down the hall into an empty, unused broom closet. Then she slapped him, hard.

"Ouch!" he yelped. "What was that for?"

He glared her with indignant yellow eyes.

"Because after all the things I've done for you, and you go around SPYING on the girls while their changing! You terrible, wicked child! What goes on in that head of yours? For all your genius, sometimes you make really stupid decisions! You'd risk getting caught and thrown out just to see some pubescent girls in their underclothes? I should slap you again!"

Erik shrank under Antoinette's harsh words. She'd never yelled at him before, not really, and it was bringing back memories of his cruel mother. He tried to glare defiantly at her, but his insides were liquefying. She could throw him out, easily! And he could wind up back in the circus! His lower lip started to tremble and he lowered his head.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled. "I just…I've never seen girls up close before. I know they'd never let me get close to them, clothed or otherwise, so I had to sneak a look at them."

"Then what am I? A spinster?" Antoinette asked. Rubbing her temples, she cried exasperatedly, "Oh, what am I going to do with you? There's no end to the trouble you get into! But spying? Really, Erik? Sometimes I wonder why I put up with you."

"Well maybe you should throw me out then! Leave me to be re-captured by the gypsies! I don't see why a child of the devil should matter to you; all you care about is being a pretty little dancer!" Erik's defiant words would have been ruined if Antoinette could see the tears searing his eyes. But the closet was dark, and she could only see the yellow orbs glaring back at her.

"Don't put ideas in my head! If you keep this up, I might just do that! You would have earned it!" Antoinette was growing even angrier with Erik's refusal to admit the foolishness of his actions. Erik drew in a sharp gasp.

"You wouldn't!" he cried, shaken.

"I might! Don't make me consider it!" Antoinette realized she'd really have to scare Erik to make him see he couldn't go around spying on people. The police could kill him for that! Erik drew away from her, up against the far wall.

"If you come down into my lair I'll…I'll…I'll do something really awful to you!" Erik cried, unable to think of an appropriate threat on the spot. He burst out of the closet and sprinted down the hallway, disappearing around a corner.

"Erik!" Antoinette cried. Oh, no! That idiot boy!

She left the closet and took off after Erik. There was no sign of Erik, both good and bad news. Despite Erik's warning, Antoinette knew she wouldn't rest until she knew Erik had gotten to the cellars safely. Ooohh! Now I'm going to be so late for ballet! Erik, I'm going to throttle you! She sped down the hall and skidded down the stairs, racing to the cellars. She halted so hard at the water's edge she nearly tumbled in. But her socks, worn over her tights until she could put on her slippers, muffled her footsteps. She saw the boat, still moored on this side of the lake and her stomach dropped. If Erik hadn't made it back to the cellars yet, someone had caught him.

"Oh, Erik!" she cried out. "Why? What can I say to save you now?"

Antoinette bit her lip. If someone had caught Erik, there was precious little she could say to stop them from arresting him, or doing any manner of traumatic things to the poor child! She dashed back upstairs; her legs were throbbing with pain by the time she made it back to ground level. Her first impulse was to go back to the closet. Perhaps Erik had been scared back there by the appearance of someone foreign. But as she passed the manager's office, she heard something that made her halt.

"I'm asking you one last time, boy, who the devil are you?" The voice sounded angry.

Antoinette took the risk and flung the door open. "Oh, monsieur! You've found him!" she cried, running over to Erik, who was sitting, petrified, in a chair, stubbornly silent.

"You know this child?" the frazzled manager asked.

"Oh, yes, monsieur! He's my cousin." She pulled Erik to his feet and gave him a little hug. "But he's a bit touched in the head you see," she said sadly. "And he's mute," she added.

The manager frowned. "Yes, well, keep the little bugger under control, if you will, mademoiselle Giry."

"Oh, yes, of course, monsieur! He just got away from me while I was changing. I'll take him home right away."

The manager "hmmm'd" and went back to his desk. Taking this as a dismissal, Antoinette took Erik's hand and pulled him from the office and didn't speak as they made their way down to the catacombs. He stumbled after her, having trouble keeping up with her long, swift dancer's legs. She let go of him at the water's edge. She had to take a moment to compose herself, or she knew she'd start screaming at him again.

"Antoinette?" he squeaked.

Antoinette took a deep breath. "If I ever have to do that again…I swear you won't eat for a month!"

Erik looked at his boots, his lower lip trembling.

"Do you realize, Erik, how much trouble you were just in? Sometimes I wish you'd think! Read the book cover to cover! Jesus, Mary and Joseph! I'm not a miracle worker here, there's only so much I can help you with!"

Erik just couldn't cope with all this yelling in one day. Memories of his mother, screaming, swearing, hitting him flashed across his eyes and he couldn't stop the tears from at last falling. He didn't speak, just tried to master the hard lump in his throat. What if Antoinette really had decided she didn't want to deal with him anymore? So they stood in silence for a moment, because it took Antoinette several heartbeats to register the soft snuffling sound and realize what she'd done. She immediately felt terrible for taking out her frustration with everything on Erik.

"Erik?" she asked.

"I'm fine," he muttered.

Antoinette put a hand on his shoulder. "Erik, I'm sorry," she said. "I just mean…You know that I was really close to losing you? To not being able to get you out of there? Do you know how guilty I'd feel if something happened to you? I wouldn't get so mad if I didn't care, you know that, right?" Antoinette tipped Erik's masked face up to look at her.

"You're…you're not going to throw me out?" Erik asked tremulously.

Antoinette hugged Erik tightly. He was still small and his head just reached her chest.

"Of course not, chérie, but NO MORE SPYING!"