Helena's eyes barely had time to register seeing red, angry welts on the right side of Erik's face before he slammed her head against the stone wall. Spots filled her vision and she felt herself being tossed to the side.

"DO NOT SPEAK OF HER!" Erik's voice echoed off the stone walls and Helena tried to pull herself into a ball. She saw his shoes cross to his room, then he stopped and turned back. "If you do, I will kill you." The door into his room closed and Helena rolled to her knees. But rather than run and hide in her room she crawled toward the organ bench. She studied the various papers Erik had left there. Each was a different angle on what seemed to be the same young woman with dark curly hair. She darted a glance at Erik's door and silently lifted the top layer of papers. More of this same girl. There was a virtual book of sketches of this one girl.

Helena felt her mouth go dry. This was more than mere obsession. She wondered who this girl was that she would be so deeply rooted in Erik's mind. Did she know that the man was tormented by her memory? Would she care? She carefully replaced the papers in the order she had lifted them, hoping he wouldn't notice. Her eye caught on a collection of crumpled papers under the organ. She silently lifted one and started to open it. The crinkles seemed as loud as a scream in the otherwise silent chamber and Helena furtively gathered the papers in her arms and tiptoed to her room. Once behind the closed door she dropped the balls of paper on the bed and opened one. Words were scrabbled across the paper in angry marks:

My dearest Christine,

Despite my greatest wish to let you live the life you have chosen I must beg you consider me instead. I know I cannot offer-

The words cut off and she opened another.

Christine,

I beg you to love me! My song is unable to escape my mind without you to inspire me. My every thought is of you and I wonder-

She opened another.

Darling Christine,

I promised myself I would not contact you, but-

Each letter was written to this Christine, each one ending before Erik could properly tell of his love for her. With each letter spread out on her bed she tried to plan what to do with this knowledge. Clearly she could not let Erik know she knew. These letters would have to be put back where she had found them and she would have to feign innocence. She crumpled the papers and peeked out her door, Erik was still in his room. She tossed the papers under the organ and checked that they looked like they did before. Pleased with the effect she turned to go back to her room then she paused. She looked back at Erik's door and made a decision. Five minutes later he heard a tentative tapping at his door and heard metal rattle outside of his door. As he opened the door he saw a skirt disappear behind Helena's door. He looked down at a small silver tray set with tea things.