A/n: Well I hope you all are enjoying this story… I'm having trouble continuing... I don't know why. But I'll keep trying to update! I don't own it!

Chapter 11: The Confession of Mme. Giry

"Where's Ana?" Christine asked Mme. Giry. They were supposed to meet after the performance. Maybe Ana forgot about her? She hadn't forgotten about Christine once before this night… though she had been talking about the Phantom of the Opera a lot. More than just to be a coincidence. Christine sighed as she awaited the answer from her old teacher. She had already waited for someone to answer from Ana's small room and she waited there for at least five minutes. The Opera house had many more rooms than it used to- though how she had no idea. There wasn't any more property but the rooms seemed just as big, if not bigger, than before. This also meant that everyone could have there own room, though why this was done she did not know.

Mme. Giry looked at Christine fiercely. Usually Mme. Giry was so calm with Christine; she was an old friend. But now, Mme. Giry's manner of the situation told her that something was not right. Her brow squished itself together.

"Whatever she ahs done, it is her own fault. She will have consequences to face, I assure you."

Christine stopped herself from glaring at her friend. She shook her head, "So you know where she is then?" She questioned. Mme. Giry looked at Christine as she opened the door into her room. Her long black dress dragged slightly across the ground as she went in and found the dresser. She turned her back to Christine as Christine followed her in and shut the door behind her.

"You don't want to get involved again, do you?" Mme. Giry asked, deep in her accent. She looked back to Christine after she said this, sadness in her eyes. Her face was stern though, and Christine knew she really did care.

"It would seem by just being here I'm already involved Mme." Christine said calmly. She looked around the dimly lighted room and ten back to Mme. Giry. "It's Erik, isn't it?"

Mme. Giry sighed once again. "He has been living in the Opera house since they stopped looking for him. I've only found this out from notes myself. He's just recently started speaking with me from the shadows… and I fear that Mlle. Ana has let her curiosity take the best of her. You know very well what the note had said!" Mme. Giry sat back in a chair. "I received a few notes from him myself for a few years now. I've known all along." Saying this, she stood back up and opened a drawer from the dresser. She fumbled around in the drawer for a few minutes. Christine watched patiently as Mme. Giry did this. When Mme. Giry seemed to find what she was looking for, she looked back to Christine and held a few tattered envelopes out to her. As Christine took the letters carefully from the older woman's hand, she noted that Mme. Giry was shaking.

Looking from Mme. Giry to her hands, she read the childish letters that she knew all too well. It seemed the Mme. Giry was living far away from Paris at that time. The walked over to a chair and sat down. When she had caught herself enough she carefully opened the envelopes and pulled out the tattered letters. Her eyes went over the old paper before she began to read. As she read, she noticed that this was the last letter that he had sent her. The letter was in French and Christine read it in her mind a few times.

Mme. Giry,

It's been awhile. It seems that I have no been able to put my thoughts together enough to write you a decent letter. I have an idea, Antoinette. Don't bother trying to tell me not to think of it because I've already put much of my plan into motion. I've bought the Opera Populaire. Crazy you're thinking, right? Indeed. I'm having it refurnished. Inviting the entire cast back to perform. I'm giving you a task. You will help me Antoinette, won't you? Please come back to the Opera house. I'll be there, in the lower levels. You will not see me, dear, but I'll be there. Oh! Don't think this is about Christine for a moment. I would like to see her again. This is true. But the performance Antoinette!

Erik

Christine grabbed the letter under that letter and opened it again, very carefully. She read this one too.

Dear Antoinette,

Images keep fluttering through my head and I keep wondering if I'm going to die… or maybe just become mad like everyone thinks I am. I can't stop thinking about her, Antoinette! Her face… her hair… her beautiful voice. It doesn't seem right that I'd be ripped away from this! Oh but Antoinette, you must understand. I've been following their movements. Recently she's returned to Paris! She's returned along with the Vicomte. I can remember everything… Oh Antoinette! You won't tell anyone I'm alive will you? Of course not, you wouldn't do that. Would you?

Erik

Christine read all the letters through. Each one resembling the same pattern in how he wrote. She was so glad his music sounded much different. There were letters from a year after the fire to a few weeks before she received her own letter in death's handwriting.

She stayed silent for a moment and then looked to Mme. Giry, who was looking at a candle, which flickered in the night.

"You think Ana's ventured below?" She asked, becoming more and more worried about her new friend. Mme. Giry looked back at her.

"Where else?" She asked. It was not a question. It was a statement. Christine sighed. What was she going to do? How could she try and find Ana and risk being found by Erik himself? As the letters proved, he still was obsessed with her. She would need to go below to save her though. She couldn't let Erik kill her!

She remembered the way perfectly, and most of the path was still the same. Her feet lead her there with hardly and upward glance. It was time to face her fear it seemed.

A/n: RandR please! Oh, and a big big big thanks to The Lady Revan, she's reviewed the most and I'm really grateful. Actually your reviews are probably the reason this story is still kind of going… THANKS AGAIN!