It has been three days since Christine returned, and three days since she has been outside. She has done nothing but sit and think of him and mourn.
She will never have another lesson with him, never hear their voices entwined in duet again. He will never play the organ for her while she rehearses, never pause to give correction or praise. She thinks of their very last lesson before she left on tour - and how was she to have known it would be their last lesson ever? She had poured her soul into her song that night, and when it was over he had turned from the organ to look at her with such fondness and told her "Your voice is perfect, Christine". She had beamed at him, full of life and joy. And now she was here, no voice, no joy, no Angel.
Madame Giry tuts at her, imploring her to join her at work.
"Please, my dear." she pleads. "It's not good to stay here all by yourself. Come with me to the theater, it will be fine, I promise."
Christine sighs.
"It will never be fine again." she says sadly.
Giry throws her hands up in exasperation.
"You know you're only saying that because you haven't seen daylight in ages."
Christine does not budge, so she tries a different approach.
"Please at least accompany me to the door of the theater, Christine. I get so lonely on my walks, and I know you must be lonely too to sit here all day. After I go in to work, you can get some groceries at the market, yes?"
Finally Christine relents.
"But I'm not going inside."
"Of course, my dear."
When they reach the foot of the stairs outside Christine looks up to the roof with tears in her eyes.
"Are you certain you don't wish to come inside?" Giry asks sadly. "Are you so very certain?"
Christine doesn't answer, and mutely walks away.
But she walks with her to the theater the next day. And the next. And the next after that. And on the trip after that trip, she accompanies her up the steps, but stops just before the doors. She fearfully glances up once again, knowing that he's possibly already seen her.
It has been a week. Giry's patience wears thin.
She comes home that night and wanders around her home for a while. Suddenly she bursts into the room Christine is reading in.
"Christine! It is terrible!"
Christine looks up, surprised.
"I have left my purse at the theater! I must go back and fetch it before it goes missing!"
Christine looks baffled.
"That is very unlike you, Madame. Are you feeling well?"
"Yes, yes, I've just been so busy, you know... Oh, but you must go with me to the theater, it's so late and I do not want to walk alone." she wrings her hands so convincingly that Christine's heart twists.
"I'll go with you, Madame." she says.
So they go to the Opera Populaire. Christine goes inside, and she's so caught up in helping Madame Giry find her missing purse that she barely realizes where she is.
They search up and down the halls before Giry says it must be in her office.
Christine leads the way, hoping to get this search over with as soon as she can, to get back home before she runs into -
She opens the door, and he's there.
Inside Giry's office, his hands behind his back, his eyes nearly betraying the worry he's working so hard at hiding.
Christine stops dead in her tracks. Her hand flies up to her throat. It feels like all of the air has been sucked out of the room.
He's only here because he doesn't know yet, she thinks to herself, Do not, Christine, do not open your mouth and let him hear you like this. He will leave you then.
But it's impossible- she can't not ever speak again. So she will lose him. So she disregards her own advice, steels herself to the inevitable, drops her hand to clench at side, and greets her former tutor.
"Hello, Erik."