AN: I am so sorry for the long wait! Please, don't drop a chandelier on my head!

Lies Are Meant to Cover Up the Truth

Sighing again, Erik leant back in his office chair, his gloved hands lightly holding the papers out in front of him.

The transaction between the unnamed individual selling the Opera Garnier and himself had been, thankfully, brief, and Erik was excited to have such a gem of a building in his possession.

However, although it was a spectacular investment, it was definitely not ready for what Erik had in mind for it. He had to convert some of the many dressing rooms into classrooms, find a place other than the orchestra pit for the musical instruments and accessories, and he had to fix the general… bleakness of the place. It was certainly grand, but no serious music student would want to battle with dust, grime and cobwebs while they were practicing. And, there was also the matter of what to do about the huge hole where the chandelier had hung. If he were to find a chandelier, he would have to find one grand enough for the building itself… and it was not going to be kind to his wallet, by any means.

Erik found himself working with quite a bit, and he knew that fixing up the old opera house was not going to be an easy feat. He put down his calculations and rubbed his forehead. At the rate he was going, he would be a pauper by the time he was finished with the place.

Standing up and putting on his dark coat and hat, he decided to take a walk outside. The weather was a little down, with thick grey clouds covering the expanse of sky, so Erik took a simple black umbrella, just in case. He needed to clear his head, and maybe get a cup of coffee. Anything to get his mind off of things. Who knew… perhaps he could find a possible job prospect also, to make a little extra money. Being a newcomer, he doubted that he could just offer singing or instrument lessons so quickly—it would never add up quick enough.

Erik breathed in the crisp air upon stepping outside. It was a nice day out, considering the circumstances, even though it was a little chilly. Erik couldn't see anybody in sight, save for the occasional car being driven.

Erik frowned as he remembered that he needed to buy gasoline for his car if he had a hope of driving it for very long. Another wad of cash spent. That's great.

Erik didn't know Goldsburg very well, of course, but he had noticed that it was a quaint, quiet little town, overshadowed by Golds City about ten miles away—apparently, both places had been named for the progenitor of the main city, Henri Golds. The main square branched off into a residential area—which was where Erik lived—and a line of little shops and restaurants that Erik vowed he would someday go to… just not today.

After about half an hour of walking around, Erik felt a waft of something reach his nose. He recognized the pungent, bitter smell of coffee, and Erik felt immediately more relaxed. He looked and saw that the smell was coming from the slightly open window of a little coffee shop. He reached for the door and went inside, hearing the twang of a little bell above the door.

"We'll be with you in just a moment, sir," said a young woman, who seemed slightly off-put by the white mask on his face and his dark clothing. Erik nodded and took a seat at a table by the window. He put his hat on the chair next to him and the umbrella against the wall, observing the place.

The smell of coffee, tea and pastries permeated the air around him, and cozy pictures of landscapes covered the walls, as well as warm displays of homemade jams, books and candies on the walls. The larger tables had chess sets on them. Erik turned to his own table and saw the triangular peg-jumping game he had once amused himself with when he was younger. With a small smile on his face, he busied himself with the game as he waited for somebody to come to his table.

He had swiftly finished the game, leaving only one peg left, when a waitress came up to him.

"Very good, sir, I am, personally, horrible at that game," came a voice from beside him. Erik looked up and saw an aged, weathered woman with a notepad smiling at him. Unlike the younger girl, she didn't seem particularly surprised by his appearance at all. She wore a black apron over a dark blue dress, and her graying hair was tied up into a ballerina bun. Her eyes were kind, and had smile lines around the edges. Erik definitely felt as if the years had been very good to her.

"May I take your order? Or do you need more time?" the woman asked. Erik smiled slightly.

"I'll just have black coffee, if you would."

"Very good, sir," the older woman smiled and turned away to get that for him. Erik sighed slightly. The overall atmosphere in the café was relaxing. Perhaps he should come here more often. The place certainly looked as if it needed more business; there weren't any other customers in sight, save for two people who looked like they were hard at work doing homework—undoubtedly from the college nearby.

"Here you are," said the woman as she set a mug of black coffee in front of him. "Do you want any sweetener, or are you going to brave the bitterness?"

Erik chuckled slightly at her friendly tone and shook his head. "I'll be fine," he responded, taking a sip to emphasize.

The woman chuckled. "Do tell me if you need anything else, sir." She walked away and Erik turned his attention back to the peg game, sipping the bitter liquid with a sigh of contentment as he reset the peg game and started playing it again.

Erik paid for his coffee at the front desk. However, it was the younger woman who took his money, so Erik did not have a chance to thank the older woman for her service. Erik received a thin-lipped smile from the younger girl as he turned away to leave. As he had anticipated, the rain was pouring down outside. He shrugged, stepping outside and opening his umbrella. He supposed he would just have to come back again later to give the proper courtesy.

"After all of these preparations… it think it amounts to about four-hundred thousand," said Mr. Tulley, rather nervously. Tulley was Erik's financial advisor, who was also in charge of his renovating project with the Opera Garnier. He was a scrawny guy, but he knew his numbers, and never hesitated to tell Erik when he was doing something wrong. "I'm not sure if you can afford that at the moment, sir."

Erik frowned. "I could always take a loan from the bank, could I not?"

"I would advise against that, Mr. Crawford. You haven't had much of a credit history, and that alone would not give you a very good image. Also, you are a new-comer, and borrowing a loan from the bank here in Goldsburg would be coming on too strong, especially a loan of this size. The bank needs reassurance that you will pay that loan off. The most reasonable way to do it would be to set up an account in Golds City, but the commute is not good, and you'll likely run into similar problems."

"How much can I get done, as it is?" Erik asked, sighing.

"As it is, sir, I'd say about only a quarter of that. For you to continue living comfortably, you can only afford to spend a hundred-thousand dollars. Going much higher would be a detriment, especially if you have no additional income rolling in."

"What if we changed the moving company to the Sullivan brothers?"

"They are not reliable, Mr. Crawford. They have a penchant for getting things lost, and I'm sure they would not pass up the chance to 'lose' some of those valuable instruments."

"You're right… those are irreplaceable. So, what you are saying at the moment is that unless I get a job, I'll end up in debt, right?"

Despite himself, Tulley found himself uneasy under Erik's fierce aquamarine gaze. He knew the man was not hostile or mean, by any circumstances, but his habit of wearing all black and the intimidating mask on his face made Tulley shrink back slightly.

"Uh… yeah. That's exactly what I'm saying."

Erik sighed for the umpteenth time that day, running a black-gloved hand through his slightly messy hair. He had such big plans for his future, but the finances weren't cutting it.

"I could probably find the most important things to fix up, and then open up the school, and once that gets going, then I can use more money to fix it up as I go along," Erik surmised.

Tulley scratched his head. "I suppose that could work, assuming your school is as successful as you hope it is."

Erik narrowed his eyes at the apparent condescension in Tulley's comment, and Tulley found himself quickly backtracking.

"N, not that it won't be successful, of course! It's just that, in a place like Goldsburg, businesses usually take a while to start up. You also would have to set aside a huge sum of money for utilities, employment, advertising and such. You wouldn't be able to fix up as much as you wanted with what you have."

Erik looked down. "That's true. I didn't think about that."

"Well, I think that this is a wrap for today, don't you?" Tulley smiled eagerly, wanting to get this all over with until their next appointment. No matter how nice of a man Erik was, he still made Tulley very anxious.

"I suppose so," Erik replied with a tone of resignation, running his hand through his hair again as he stood up and grabbed his hat. "I shall see you next week."

"See you, Mr. Crawford."

The day was quite nice. It was that perfect lukewarm temperature, and there was very little humidity, despite the rain Goldsburg had been receiving lately. A few puffy white clouds dotted the clear blue sky, and there were a few people milling about, enjoying the day. Erik smiled as he passed a woman holding a baby, and she smiled back to him. Along with the temperature, it seemed as though the spirits of the people were getting warmer, also, as they got used to seeing Erik around town.

Erik found himself turning down a familiar brick street, and he stopped in front of the little café he had been at almost a week earlier. He remembered that he still had to thank the woman for her genial and friendly service, so he made up his mind, pushing the door in. The bell rung sweetly as Erik took off his hat and took a seat at the same table as before.

The café was slightly more crowded, full of mostly college students, along with the occasional solitary grandmother-figure, reading one of the books off the bookshelf by the side of the room. Erik saw the older waitress serving lemonade and tea to a family at one of the chess table, and he smiled as one of the little girls played with the chess knight.

The woman looked up and her face lightened even more as she saw Erik sitting there. She wiped her hands on her apron, gave a few kind words to the family, and began making her way over to where Erik was sitting. The kindness Erik saw exuding from the woman was reminiscent of how he thought a mother should be. If he had had one, that is.

"Hm, are you going to drink your bitter coffee again?" inquired the woman jovially as she clicked her pen and smiled at him.

"Well, actually, I am rather in the mood for tea today, if you don't mind."

The woman laughed. "Of course. I assume that is black as well?"

"You would assume correctly."

"Very good, sir, I shall be out with that in a moment."

Erik nodded. As the woman left, he couldn't help but be overwhelmed by her fresh and kind attitude. He found it rather calming, especially in the face of his financial calamity.

She returned a few minutes later with black tea. "Will that be all, sir?"

"Yes, thank you. You are very good at your job."

The woman smiled slightly, though Erik could tell it was slightly forced. "Thank you, sir, that warms my heart," she responded, nevertheless.

Erik didn't feel concerned or confused often, but it seemed like today was one of those types of days. The woman's reaction worried him, since it was not really what he expected. Perhaps she just didn't like to be put on the spot like that. To avoid her further embarrassment, he said nothing on the matter, merely taking a sip of the tea as she went to attend to the family, who were getting ready to leave the café.

Erik looked about the window, watching the people walk past, as he let the sounds and smells of the little shop relax him further. Tulley was fine enough, but Erik could only take so much of that man before he wanted to jump off of something.

"Sir?"

Erik was brought out of his thoughts as he jumped and saw the younger waitress standing there with a slight look of disapproval on her face. In surprise, Erik noticed that the sky had darkened to a rosy pink colour, indicating evening—he had been immersed in his plans for the future for so long.

"Are you planning on loitering there for much longer?" she asked, rudely.

Erik gave a grim smile. "I didn't notice. The time has gotten away from me."

"Sure," the woman said, the tone of her voice suggesting that she didn't believe him for one moment.

"Sorelli, there is no need to antagonize him. He isn't bothering anybody," interrupted the older woman, rescuing Erik from Sorelli's harsh tone. Erik felt grateful. He didn't know how he would have responded otherwise… considering he didn't have the best of tempers, really.

Sorelli sighed. "Whatever. Close up shop for me, will ya? I'm going home early today."

"Very well," said the woman as Sorelli left in a kind of huff. Erik frowned.

"If you need to get home, I'll leave…"

"No, no, stay as long as you wish," the woman retorted, smiling. "There's nothing making you leave. Sorelli is just a little expectant, that's all. She probably just wants to see her boyfriend again."

"Ah. What about you? Don't you have a family to return to?" Erik asked, knowing the question was a wee bit insensitive.

The woman smiled sadly. "No, I don't. My husband died a few years ago, and… well, that's neither here nor there. Would you like another cup of tea?"

Erik blinked. "Sure. Why don't you get one and we can talk? I'm sure you could use a break."

The woman smiled. She looked around at the empty shop and nodded. "Yeah, I'd like that." She turned and went to get the tea.

Erik was confused again. She sounded as if she was going off into some sort of subject… but then she cut herself off so abruptly. What was she going to say? Perhaps she had some other family? He knew that what he had asked was intrusive, but now he couldn't get it out of his mind. That, along with the reaction from earlier… his curiosity was piqued, regrettably, and now he really wanted to know.

The woman returned with another cup of tea for him, as well as one for herself. It was obviously she put a lot of milk and sugar into it… the tea was only a few shades darker than her own complexion, and she was quite fair-skinned.

The older woman sat down across from him and stirred her tea absently as she took a sip.

"So, might I ask your name?" the woman asked. Erik smiled.

"My name is Erik. I just moved here a little while ago. I'm planning on opening up a music school."

"Really? So, you are a fan of the arts?"

"Yes. I primarily teach voice, but I have enough proficiency with instruments that I can handle those easily as well."

"Wow," the woman looked impressed.

"What about you?" Erik asked. Her face was one of surprise.

"What do you mean?"

"What is your name?"

"Oh!" The woman laughed at her momentary lapse in concentration. "My name is Antoinette."

"That's a nice name. French."

"Yes, well, my mother was a French immigrant, so she was the one who named me this way."

Erik stretched. "I've been there before, once, for my early college years. It is a beautiful place."

"Is it? I must confess that I have never been there. Perhaps I may get a chance, if it weren't so unlikely. I've always wanted to visit, maybe find some old family."

"Why is it unlikely?"

Antoinette gestured around her. "I'm but a waitress. I used to make some money, but those years are behind me now, unfortunately."

"What did you do?"

"I… danced and taught ballet. I suppose it's a shout-out to my French heritage."

Antoinette said this with a smile, but Erik got the impression that there were a few underlying emotions she wished to staunch. Erik smiled.

"I used to be a police officer. I was a part-time deputy."

Antoinette chuckled. "For some reason, I can't really see you being a police officer, especially since you are a music-lover."

Erik shrugged. "I quite liked it, though. As you can probably assume, a bad job led to me having to wear this mask."

Now it was Antoinette's turn to experience that Erik was trying to hide painful emotions. Antoinette was bolder than he was, and she pressed further.

"Is it really so bad an injury, that you must cover yourself this way?"

Erik sighed. "I don't really know, actually. I just find it more comfortable. People still stare at me… but then at least they think I'm mysterious, not a freak."

"I suppose that makes sense. So… you liked your job as a police officer, despite that? That is rather nice of you. Why are you still not doing that job?"

"Well, I was kind of fired for an act of recklessness in a situation where I should have exercised caution," Erik explained with a small smile. "I must say, I have quite the short temper…."

"I never would have guessed," replied Antoinette with a wink. Erik laughed and took a drink of his tea.

"You should have waited a little longer and let Sorelli keep harassing me. Then you would have had a full-blown demonstration."

Antoinette raised an eyebrow. "However much that should worry me, I feel quite elated. Sorelli was never the most sociable person around me, really, even though I am her senior—in more ways than one, of course," she snickered at her joke.

Erik smiled and leaned back, absentmindedly moving around the pegs in the little game. Antoinette watched him without saying a word, enjoying the calm, friendly atmosphere.

After a few more minutes of comfortable silence, Antoinette was the one to break it.

"Are you still interested in doing police work? Kind of like detective work, really, though."

Erik looked up at her sudden question. Did he? He had planned on leaving his old life behind and start anew in Goldsburg… he certainly didn't expect anybody to propose anything, especially not an old ballet-teacher-turned-waitress like Antoinette.

"Wh, what do you mean?" Erik inquired, not sure what to anticipate from the woman.

Antoinette smiled at him, and Erik noticed that it was a grim one.

"Well, I've had a few connections with the police before, a few years ago… and the thing I wanted them to do was never completed. I figure that you might need some extra money to help open up your school… so I wonder if there's a compromise that will be equally beneficial to both of us."

Erik blinked, confused as to what she was asking. Antoinette saw his befuddled expression and sighed.

"Look, I won't hold anything back. The thing is, when I first saw you sitting there, I felt as if you could help me. I've been in deep sorrow for over four years… and perhaps I'm a little selfish in expecting you to help me… But I am in dire need of it, Erik. Please, won't you listen to my story?"

Erik just stared at the older woman, who suddenly looked older than she was. Her eyes were clouded over with a wave of sorrow that she had been desperately trying to hold back. It was that face that she had been keeping at bay when she said she used to teach ballet, or that she had no family to return to….

Erik felt a rush of sympathy. Being a former police officer, he had never really let his emotions interfere with any aspect of his work—except, of course, the moment where he had gotten fired. However, this was different. This wasn't some random case assigned to him. This was a woman he had only known for a short time, sure, but she also was no stranger. She was vaguely like a mother to him, already, and he felt a sort of connection to her… he wanted to help her.

"Okay. I'll listen. What is it?" Erik replied, all the while trying not to seem insensitive to this obviously grieving woman.

Antoinette sighed, as if preparing herself for the story she was about to tell. She gripped her teacup, took a swift sip, and set it down, biding her time. Erik waited patiently for her to begin.

"It's about… my daughter. Meg Giry."

AN: There you have it! As you might have guessed, I will be alternating between Christine and Erik for each chapter- so next chapter, you all get a further glimpse of the horrible conditions our poor Christine has been thrust into. :'( To continue the evil, you can't hear Madame Giry's tale until chapter 5, muahaha! Goodness, it always seems like Madame Giry has a tale of some sort, doesn't it?

Also, I'm pretty sure Sorelli is the name of one of the ballerinas at the beginning of the original book... she always seemed slightly jerky to me, so I think the name was appropriate. :p I hoped you liked it, and I once again apologize for the erroneously long wait!