In the smokey back room of the Moulin Rouge where late-night transactions took place, Satine's body lay on a dirty chaise.
It was a split-second action, invisible if you aren't looking for it, but the body blinked. And then… there it was again. The slightest flicker of the eyelashes.
Satine opened her eyes. She feebly lifted a hand and swiped at her eyes, wildly smearing makeup.
"The show must go on," said Satine weakly, coughing. Marie turned to look at her.
"Satine!" she exclaimed. "My darling! You… you are awake!"
Satine exhaustedly dropped her head onto the chaise as Marie ran from the room. Echoing down the hall was a chant of "Harry! Christian! She's awake!"
There is a hiccup as the Duke ran into Marie.
"Are you saying that Satine is alive?" he said snarkily. "And Christian doesn't know it? Oh, this is a treat. A treat indeed."
"Monsieur Duke, of course Christian… must know! They are in love, Monsieur!" Marie exclaimed.
"Do I need to pay you, a harlot, to keep Christian away? Here!" he hissed, throwing bills at Marie.
Marie looked as though she is about to cry. She nodded and continued down the hall for Zidler.
"Satine, my darling!" exclaimed the Duke, rushing to Satine's side.
"I… I am not dead." said Satine confusedly. "Somehow, I was kept here… b-by an angel! An angel! Christian is my angel."
The Duke shook his head and grabbed Satine's hand. "No, Satine, Christian… he has died. He took his own life to be with you."
Satine gasped. "Christian… is dead? No! No!"
The Duke said, smirking, "But it is."