"Christine?" Meg Giry's voice roused her once more, and Christine sat up quickly as she realized how awkwardly she had been sprawled across the lounge in her dressing room. Three strong, confident raps against her door. "Christine, are you in there?"

"One moment," Christine groaned as she stood up. Her head was throbbing worse than it had been when she'd first woken up, but now she had a reason to keep going. As she unlatched the door, it burst open and Meg Giry nearly threw herself on her friend.

"Christine! Are you all right? Everyone's been looking for you, I've been worried sick!" the girl cried. As she pulled back to take inventory of her friend and be certain that Christine Daae was all right, she clasped her hands over her mouth.

"What is it?" Christine asked, taken aback by the girl's sudden movement.

"What did you do to your head? You've got stitches down your forehead!" Meg squeaked. Christine's hands flew to her face, where her fingertips confirmed what Meg had just told her. She felt the color drain from her face as she realized the only person who would have been able to stitch her up. "Whoa, easy now," Meg said, easing Christine to the floor as her legs gave out.

"Christine!" a familiar voice- too familiar- cried. White-gloved hands took Christine gently by the shoulders, and Raoul seamlessly took Meg's place in front of the shaken soprano. "Where have you been? It's been three days!"

"Three- Three days?" Christine asked, wide-eyed, "You must be joking!"

Meg shook her head. "We searched high and low for you, but couldn't find even a trace!"

"What happened to you?" Raoul asked, carefully running his thumb over the long line of stitches that went back past her hairline. She winced as the throbbing pain intensified at his touch.

"I… I don't remember. The last thing I remember was…" she closed her eyes, thinking hard. She couldn't tell them where she had really been- could she? Raoul would be frightened for her safety, if he believed what she told him. "I was leaving rehearsal last night- er, three nights ago now, I suppose."

"Come, let us get you to a warmer place. Your skin is like ice, Christine!" Raoul said, helping her back to her feet.

Deep below the opera house, Erik was hurriedly packing his things. He didn't know if he would be leaving for good, but he knew he could no longer stay. The temptation to watch Christine, to gaze longingly at the life she could have with her beauty and talent, was too great, and he was simply too angry to allow himself to be near her again.

As Raoul helped Christine into his carriage, she could've sworn she saw a black horse take off into the night bearing a passenger clad entirely in black save for a white mask.

AN: Thank you so much for the reviews this story has received so far! I apologize if it comes out a bit slowly, I'm trying to finish up some updates for my older fics: This Angel In Hell and Something To Sing About, so until those updates are up this fic might just be a bit slow to update.