Nothing is mine. Hope you enjoy.

Madame Giry made her way to Christine's dressing room. She had desperately tried to switch her dressing room with another, and, even though the Phantom had threatened her, she had done it anyway. The next morning, she had gotten a note that he held her daughter hostage and left her instructions to get her back. Knowing what she must do, she ran as fast as she could in the early in the morning to get her dressing room switched. She had explained and apologized to Christine for this, but Christine completely understood, knowing that the safety of her friend was worth anything. Now, here it was, a day later, and Meg hadn't returned. She had even sent the Phantom multiple notes, to which he'd replied to none.

Now, Madame Giry was worried. She wanted to talk to Christine to see if Meg had returned. She knocked on the door and opened it. Christine was sitting at her vanity table, examining another rose. This rose was different though. In fact, it was only a stem. The entire rose part of it appeared to have been crushed or chopped off, yet it still had the black ribbon on it. She turned to look at her.

"Have you heard anything?" Christine asked.

"I was just about to ask you that." Madame Giry sighed. "No news then?"

"No," Christine said with frustration. "Your note said he would return her and she's still not back yet! What's keeping him?!"

But Madame Giry wasn't looking at her adoptive daughter anymore. She was looking at the rose stem. Something about it caught her eye, but she wasn't sure what it was.

Christine followed her gaze. "What is it?"

Madame Giry squinted and bent down to more closely examine the rose stem.

"When did you get this rose?" she asked.

"Just this morning before you came in. I found it on the floor in front of the mirror. It was covered in snow…" Christine trailed off. Her eyes widened and she blanched. She looked sickly. She flung the rose stem on the table and eyed it as if it might explode.

Madame Giry watched Christine with worry. "What is it, Christine?"

"Last night, after Buquet's death," Christine said slowly, "I took the rose from my dressing room, ran to Raoul, and brought him to the roof. I thought it would be the safest place to talk to him. It was snowing outside. I remember dropping the rose, but I didn't think to pick it back up. I'm almost certain I didn't step on it." Now Christine turned to Madame Giry.

"Even if I did step on it, part of the flower would still be there. And how would he know it was there anyway? Unless…" Christine gasped and clutched at her heart, paling even more. She stood up and began pacing the room. Madame Giry watched her in worry and confusion.

"He knows," Christine said, not stopping her pacing. "I don't know how, but he knows."

"Knows what?"

Christine stopped pacing and addressed her.

"When I was on the rooftop, Raoul and I became engaged."

Madame Giry was surprised. She didn't know Christine and the patron had such an attachment to each other.

Christine went on.

"When I went to his lair that night, I had fainted because I saw a dummy of me in a wedding dress. And now, I'm engaged to another man. The Vicomte de Changy. The one he had already called 'insolent'."

Madame Giry understood now. She gasped.

"He loves you," she said, "and this was considered a betrayal. Now he won't let her go. Unless you break it off."

"I'll have to," replied Christine, "But if I tell Raoul the reason, he'll insist on charging forward into the lair to rescue her. And then she'll die."

"Then you either have to stop him from charging there, or make the Opera Ghost believe that you don't love the Vicomte anymore."

"He'll never believe it," said Christine, "but I'll tell Raoul we'll break off the engagement, before this gets around." She walked towards the door. "I have to go find him." and with that, she left the room.

Madame Giry stared at the door through which Christine had just exited, her eyes filled with worry.

"Well done, Antoinette, you figured it out," came a voice that seemed to resonate from all corners of the room.

"Yes, Erik, we did," said Madame Giry simply, not taking her eyes off the door. "How could you be so cruel? After all that I've done for you, this is how you repay me? This is madness!"

"I promise, I won't harm her, Antoinette, unless, of course, she tries to escape."

Madame Giry hunched her shoulders a little and frowned.

"She and Christine are the world to me, yet you can't win without hurting both of them."

"Yes, that is the way of the world. You, of all people, should know that this world is a cruel one."

"I thought I did a good deed, rescuing you from your cruel circus life," Madame Giry said sadly, "Now, I don't even know anymore."

"You should be grateful I haven't killed her yet. She already tried to escape once. Don't worry," the Phantom added hurriedly as Madame Giry let out a gasp and turned around, "No lasting harm was done. I must go now, Madame. I must check on your daughter, and check on Christine, and check on my managers, and check on the Vicomte. I need a check list." And with that, the Phantom's presence seemed to melt away.

Madame Giry sank to her knees, holding her head, praying. Oh, Meg, she thought desperately, what have I done?