Christine's euphoria was not to last. Just days after Raoul rescued her scarf, her father informed her that they were moving. "But Raoul is here," Christine protested. "I have friends here."

Mr. Daae looked at his thirteen-year-old daughter sadly. "I know, my darling," he said soberly. "But, pet, we must move to Paris. I have looked for every opportunity to avoid doing this to you, and to Raoul, but I'm afraid we have to."

"We'll stay with Raoul's family," Christine offered. "They won't mind! His mother likes me well enough."

"Christine," Mr. Daae said gently, "we have to move to Paris for your sake."

Christine frowned. "What do you mean?" she asked. "I don't want to move to Paris."

Mr. Daae sighed heavily. "Christine, you are far too young to deal with this," he said, choking a little as tears came to his eyes. "Darling, I'm sick. The doctors recommend that I be moved to a hospital in Paris, but the cancer – the cancer is probably incurable."

At first, she didn't understand – and did not want to understand. "Daddy," she said shakily, "what… what are you saying?"

"I'm so sorry, my darling Christine," Mr. Daae said softly, tears streaming from his eyes. "I'm – I'm dying. And we have to move to Paris. I've asked an old friend, Madame Giry, if she will accept you into the ballet school at the Opera Populaire so you will have a job after I am gone, and I've asked Mama Valerius to take you in, so you will have a home after I am gone, and they have both agreed-"

"I'll stay with Raoul!" Christine said desperately. "Papa, please, not ballet school-"

"I know," Mr. Daae sighed. "I know how much you wanted to study physics, doll, but our finances- our finances, the way they are, I can barely afford to pay for your upkeep until university. I haven't performed in years, and being famous alone does not make me money."

Christine had done a very good job of keeping back her tears, but all the information just became too much. She started bawling, thinking of life without her father and life without Raoul and life in Paris and life as a ballerina –

But she said none of this. Instead, she said in a very small voice, "When do we leave?"

There was a silence, and then: "Two weeks come this Monday."

Two weeks left with her best friend. And then how long did Christine have until she lost her only other friend, her father? How long would he be with her after those two weeks? When would he desert her?

"Papa," Christine cried, and ran to hug him. "Papa, we can stay here. We don't have to move. I'll find a job here – I can work as a housemaid or something, if people still use those-"

"You will be better off under Madame Giry's and Mama Valerius's care," her father replied steadily, hugging her tightly. "They are old friends of mine, and as much as I would prefer to leave you to Raoul's family, they have five children of their own. I doubt that they would want a sixth – and not to mention the financial burden it would put them in."

"Money," Christine said disgustedly. "Money controls everything. Why can't I just work for Raoul's family? I'll make up for anything they spend on me – they'll never have to spend anything on me anyways, because-"

"Christine," her father said gently. Christine stopped talking. "Raoul's family has enough on their mind already. Mama Valerius will take very good care of you, and you will have enough to get you through university if you so choose."

Christine's bottom lip started trembling. "Fine," she said bitterly, and with that she ran outside to cry while the snow swirled around her.