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Christine had anxiously awaited the day her feet would step upon the soil of this new continent. Yet when she did, she had the feeling that she wanted to run back on the ship and beg for France. But when she thought about the waves, the sickness, she quickly abandoned that idea. She was here now, that was all there was to it.
New York. Such a large place with so many people! The city of Manhatten that she was in now seemed like it was bigger than all of France! She walked timidly, trying to find her bearings. A post office was nearby, so she quickly shuffled in to there.
"May I help you, Ma'am?" The man behind the counter asked.
"Ye...yes. I'm looking for...a hotel to stay in?"
He kindly wrote down a list of addresses where she'd be able to find a good night's rest. Thanking him gratefully, she quickly went in search, her suitcases heavy in her hands.
When she found a nice place, she dropped her bags on the floor and collapsed on to the bed, thoroughly exhausted both physically and mentally. But her dreams gave her little comfort - they were all focused on a world away, where Vicomte's searched for their fiance's and friends worried to death about her safe keeping.
"She's no where! Absolutely no where." Madame Giry announced, after finding her way in to the lair again.
Erik made a grunt, though he didn't let her disrupt what he was already doing. Whatever he was doing...
"Erik? Erik, are you...going somewhere?" She asked, suddenly hopeful when she saw the bags. He was going after Christine!
"As a matter of fact, I am."
"Then you should know that London, Perros and all of Paris has been covered the last I heard."
"Covered? What do you speak of, Giry?"
"The search for Christine, of course! Those places are already covered, so you should start-"
"I'm not going to find Christine!" Erik exclaimed.
"You're...not?"
"No. I'm leaving on my own. To go try and make something out of this worthless life while I can. I told you before - if the girl wants to run away like a child, let her. She's come back when she's ready."
"How do you know?" Madame Giry implored.
He side glanced at her, his jaw set. "She'll come back when she's ready." He only said stubbornly in a low voice. "But what she does is no longer any of my affairs." He picked up his suitcase. "I take my leave."
"Where are you going? In case I'd have to find you?"
"You wont be finding. I'm planning on going everywhere, but no where to these cruel men. You wont be finding me."
"But what if we find Christine? Or what if she's injured?"
Erik turned to the elderly woman. "I don't care, Madame. I have nothing for her. To me, she is now just another runaway soprano that has turned in to a brat, thanks to both that Vicomte's hands and my own. He gave her everything in the world, I gave her everything under it. I even gave her front stage and her greatest gift. But he has spoiled her heart. I have too. So now I wash my hands from it all. Now, I take my leave." And with that, he took a bag of things and put them in her hand. "These are the few valuables from down here. You may sell them, for you deserve the money after your years of service to me."
"It wasn't service, Erik - it was caring and love."
He ignored this, and picked up his suitcase, grabbing his hat and putting it on to shade his face, then started up one of the tunnels.
Madame Giry waited, hoping that somehow he'd change his mind and stay. But he didn't return, and so Madame Giry stood in a now Phantomless lair that was void and empty. With both the woman she thought a daughter and the man she thought a son both gone at the same time, her heart had never been so heavy.