All the wedding invitations had been sent out, and were the most sought after items in the high society that year. The wedding was to be a June wedding, and many preparations were being made.

"Oh, Raoul!" Christine sighs. "I'm so excited! I cannot wait until we are finally husband and wife! And we will not have to worry about Erik anymore…"

"Do not worry, Little Lotte," Raoul says as he holds his fiancé in his arms. "That monster will not haunt you nor harm you ever again. Do not think about those dark times anymore. Think instead of the joy of our upcoming wedding." He kisses her gently, if not passionately as her former Angel.

The wedding was flawless. There were many, many flowers. The people of the Parisian high society were dressed to the nine for the service.

After everyone had left and all the wedding presents unwrapped, there was one last gift to account for…

Addressed to Christine, and her only, there was no card telling who the giver was. It was a box, a beautiful wooden jewelry box, and full of secret compartments. It reminded her of something she had seen before, during her previous life as a single singer and her misadventures in the Paris Opera house. But she ignored those feelings. After all, did the paper not say that Erik was dead?