Chapter One

When Christine Daae left Paris and the Opera Populaire closed it's doors Meg had thought it was over. For weeks she and the rest of the corps remained in the dormatory while inspectors from the Paris police investigated the opera house. Eventually many of the girls in the corps decided to take positions elsewhere. Only she, her mother Madame Giry and a few of the opera faithful remained. Everyone in the opera had been subjected to hard questions during the intense investigation. Madame Giry herself been questioned relentlesly by the police in the past weeks. Everyone knew that she had a connection to the "mad man". Hadn't she hidden him before? What did she know? Through the hours of wrangling Madame Giry's answers remained the same. She didn't know where he was dead or alive. Despite her insistence that he was gone the police remained. Both she and Meg watched as they began gutting out his lair. Every day they made endless trips down into the dark emerging later with rolled up carpets and pieces of furniture that had belonged to him.The only thing they had not found was the white leather mask he had left behind. At night when Meg was alone she reached underneath her mattress and pulled the mask from its hiding place. Holding it in her hands she wondered where he was or if he had survived long enough to escape the opera house.

Their days had become long and suffocating. With the constant intrusions of the police much of the opera house was closed off. Meg dealt with the confinrment dancing in the small space of her mother's room while Madame Giry read the newspaper. There was a rumor that Monsieurs Firmin and Andre had offers from a very wealthy Italian financier who wanted to buy the opera house and open its doors again. With La Carlotta returning to Naples there were a few brave divas who wanted their chance to help ressurrect what had been Paris's most beloved opera company. Soon talk of the hoped for ressurrection died. It was clear that no one rich or brave was going to set foot in the opera house again.

Madame Giry spent hours at her writing desk composing letters to different family members asking for help in getting she and Meg settled. Her late husband's family refused to assist them. They had never approved of her or the fact that she had decided to raise their son's only child among the lowly and indecent opera performers. Madame Giry's parents had passed away long ago and only her younger brother Gilles was still alive and living in New Orleans.

"But that's so far away," Meg whispered hugging her pillow against her.

"Well our only option here is to live on the streets. We both know that Paris isn't kind to women without a suitable vocation."

"But surely there are other places I could dance," she offered.

Madame Giry gave her daugter a sad smile and shook her head. "Where? Would you like to dance at the Moulin Rouge or on the street corner for a few francs? No ma petite. I want to bring you somewhere you can have a chance at a better life. Somewhere far away from here."

"But, I don't want to go. This is home!"

"Meg, it's over! Monsieur Firmin told the police that they want the opera empty in two weeks. We have no choice!" Madame Giry turned back to her desk as Meg pushed open the door and slammed it closed behind her.

She rushed down the halls without stopping to acknowledge anyone who crossed her path, pushing through doors and ignoring the signs warning everyone to keep out. She only stopped when she reached the stage and stared out at the darkened auditorium. The remnants of the fallen chandelier were gone. Only the mangled seats and burnt carpeting remained. The sight of it pushed her deeper into the anger that churned inside her. Without a thought she began to dance. All the pent up anger and sadness pushed her on with every pirouette and leap. She danced until she was exhausted and sank onto the edge of the stage. Sitting in the dark she thought over everything that had happened. Her mother and Christine, the two most important people in her life had been tied up so tightly in the twisted game that has played itself out. She had pretended innocence dancing happily with a smile that betrayed none of what she had seen or heard. The voice that echoed softly to Christine in the chapel, the stacks of letters with the red seal hidden in the drawers of her mother's desk were just two of the links to the phantom who ruled their opera house. Sitting alone on the stage she still felt that she was being watched. The sudden sensation pushed her to her feet as she stared boldly out at the empty theater.

"Are you here," she whispered. Her question was met with silence. It was like ice on her warm skin. Slowly she backed away and ran off the stage.

The persistent ticking of the silver clock woke her. The room was dark, but she could see that her mother's bed was empty. She kicked the sheets back and rushed to Madame Giry's desk where she lit a candle. Something was wrong. Her mother wouldn't have left without waking her up to tell her. She took the candle and opened the door.

"Mama," she called out as she began to walk the length of the corridor. Taking the stairs to the next floor she continued to call out to Madame Giry. After walking the entire second floor she came to the end of the hall to the door of Christine's dressing room. Her natural inclination would have been to open the door, but not anymore. She quickly turned her back on the door and began to walk away. The sudden weight of a hand on her shoulder sent her whirling around as another hand stifled her screams.

"Ma petite, it's me."

The sight of Madame Giry's face quieted her. She gripped her mother's hand in relief. "My God, you nearly scared me to death! What are you doing up here?"

Madame Giry cast a nervous glance at the door behind them and pulled Meg down the hall. "Come, we need to go back to our room."

Without a word they they both returned to their room where Madame Giry locked the door behind them. In the light of the candle Meg could see her mother's eyes were red and nervous. She opened the armoire and pulled out a box where she kept old cloth and linament.

"What is going on?" Meg persisted.

Madame Giry wouldn't answer, but continued to open drawers pulling out bottles of different medicines and balms.

"Mama!" Meg grabbed her mother's arm and looked her in the eye. Without a word she knew. "How long have you known?"

"This evening. A note was left here on my desk."

Meg sank onto her bed. So he was still there. A strange mixture of fear and relief churned inside her."How? With all of the police and the searches?"

"Do you honestly think they would know this place as well as he does?" She tied the bottles and bandages up in a cloth and headed to the door.

"I should go with you," Meg said following her.

"It would be best if only I know where he is for now." Madame Giry unlocked the door.

"But..."

"No! Stay here."

The door was quickly closed behind her. Meg returned to her bed thinking over what was now she and her mother's secret. She knew then that the feeling she had had while she was dancing was real. He had been watching her. Dropping her hand to her side she reached underneath the mattress and pulled out the mask. It still gleamed in the half light of the candle at her bedside. She ran her fingertips over the fine smoothness of the white leather.

The days that followed were filled with tension and whispers between she and Madame Giry. In the daylight they kept to themselves pretending to be occupied with getting settled outside of the opera house. At night Madame Giry left Meg with a bundle of food and other necessities under her arm. Though there were only a few gendarmes walking the halls of the opera they still had to be cautious. A week had passed since he had revealed that he was still with them. In another week she and her mother would be forced to leave. What would happen to him then? Meg was lost in thought when Madame Giry returned from her midnight run. With every night she looked increasingly haggered. She sank into a chair and began to take the pins out of her hair.

"How is he," Meg asked.

"Quiet. He ate this evening and the cuts on his arms are healing nicely."

Meg stood behind her and began to loosen the long fair braid that snaked down her mother's back." So what are we going to do with him when it is time for us to leave here?"

"I don't know ma petite. He is doing better than he was when I found him the first night. That in and of itself is a miracle." She handed Meg the silver brush.

"Once we leave the opera house will be empty. He should be safe enough."

Madame Giry rubbed her forhead."I wish I knew what to do. I've been looking after him for as long as I can remember. To leave him now..."

Meg linked her arms around her mother's shoulders. "Perhaps we should stay in Paris, close by. At least he would have some kind of help if he ever needed it."

Madame managed a small, but loving smile."You are still determined for us to stay here."

"This is home. There has to be a way that we can stay in Paris."

Madame said nothing, but stared into the mirror at her reflection. She knew that she would have to tell Meg of her decision soon. The passage to New Orleans had been arranged and the plan of escape had been worked out. Erik would be safe and Meg would have a chance to start a new life away from police and the opera house.

Meg was awakened by a soft, but persistent tapping on her shoulder. She opened her eyes to her mother's face.

"Come, you need to get dressed."

Meg sat up and looked at the antique clock on the mantle. It was after midnight. She looked over at Madame and the silken bag clasped in her hands. It was the bag she used on the rare occassions when they traveled outside of Paris. Immediately she was afraid. "Why do you have my bag?"

Impatience shot across Madame's face as she grabbed Meg's arm and pulled her roughly out of bed. "I told you to get dressed! Hurry!"

As Meg rushed to dress Madame Giry stood by the door waiting her eyes fastened to the floor. She couldn't look her daughter in the eye knowing what was to come. Would she ever understand her reasons?

"I'm ready," Meg whispered.

Taking Meg's hand in hers she led her downstairs, out of the dormitory and into the stable yard. Madame stopped laying a finger on her lips as she looked around for any of the gaurds who might be patroling the grounds. Once she was certain that the way was clear she led Meg out to the street and down one of the small alley ways behind the opera house. When they rounded the corner Madame stopped. Meg followed her mother's eyes to the end of the alley where a tall figure of a man seated on a horse waited. Immediately Meg realized what was happening.

"No," she whimpered pulling away from her mother.

Madame Giry grabbed hold of her arms and looked her in the eye. "It's the only way I know to protect both of you."

"Please don't make me go," Meg whispered. "Please."

Madame Giry pulled her daughter into her arms. Her pleas tore at her heart so violently that she was afraid that she would give in. "Ma petite this is the best I can do. I didn't want to tell you this, but the police suspect something is happening. I was caught coming back from the vaults a few nights ago. They will be watching me closely. If I leave right now we will all be suspects and no matter where we go we will be on the run. If you leave there will be less questions."

"Why didn't you tell me," Meg asked.

"Because I didn't want to worry you.I wanted this to be as simple as possible."

Meg looked over Madame's shoulder. She knew that he was waiting."Promise me that you will come to New Orleans as soon as you can."

"I promise," she kissed Meg's forehead. "I love you ma petite."

"I love you Maman," Meg whispered.

Before she could speak Madame Giry dropped her bundle and rushed out of the alley. Meg closed her eyes fighting the urge to run after her. The fear and pain she felt was almost too much to take. Opening her eyes she stared down the dark alley where he waited for her. Breathing deeply she reached down to pick up her bundle with shaking hands. As she made her way towards him she was determined that she wouldn't let him see her fear. When she reached the end of the alley she looked up into his eyes and held out her hand. For moment he seemed to hesitate the look in his eyes was almost nervous. Slowly he reached out and pulled her into the saddle in front of him. Without a word he urged the horse on into the street and out of the city.