A/N: *steps out from hiding spot* I promise I'm not dead! Just taking a very much needed break to rest and regroup that's all. To make up for it… here's a nice long chapter! I thought about splitting it up, but decided you guys deserved a lengthy one for my absence. So here it is! But I should warn you… it's mostly flashback and Christine-Raoul centric. Yet, don't skip it. If you want… go ahead and review. *returns back to hiding spot*

Chapter 14

A week passed since Erik brought up Christine's unfinished business and her lack of interest in discovering who her murderer was. Of course, she might not have made herself visible to him… she did make it quite plain and clear that she was angry at him. The exploding light bulbs were only a start.

Erik found his clothing scattered over the floor, his cell in the freezer, his keys in the oven… even the remaining bottles of beers he had were all poured out and stacked together on the kitchen table. The last straw was when Erik was trying to compose and she was taking his music sheets and blowing them around the room. He was running around, jumping and snatching the sheets before any one of them should accidentally go out the window.

"Christine!" he bellowed, not caring that anyone could have heard him. "This has got to stop! Okay… I get your point now!"

"Do you?"

He whirled around to see her with her arms crossed, her chin jutted out. "Or are you saying that so I will stop?"

"Don't you think this is being childish?" Erik asked, holding his precious music sheets to his chest. "Look, I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings, but someone had to be the adult and say the truth."

"I'm not an adult is that what you're saying?" she retorted.

"Oh for the love of… Christine, I was only thinking about your best interests. Don't you want to see your loved ones? Or what about your father?"

At the mention of her father, her expression softened. "Of course I do."

"Then why aren't you letting me help you?"

"Erik… it's not that easy, okay?"

"You're being stubborn you know that. I don't know what it is that has you so up in arms, but this has to end. Eventually, you will have to move on."

Emotions warred on her countenance and he could see that she understood what he meant, but it didn't make sense that she would be so against it in the first place. Didn't she want to move on to that better place?

At last she finally spoke. "The truth is… I think there's more to it than that. I think I have a purpose here."

"Like what?" he asked.

She shrugged. "I don't know. But I feel it in my gut."

"All right so how does that prevent you from finding out whom your killer is?"

If it were possible, there were tears in her eyes. "Because what if that's it. It sounds so obvious and so simple, yet I feel like there is more I must do before I move on. I was… am twenty-eight years-old. I'm still young and I'm just not ready to take that final step. Yes, I do want to see my family again. I want to be able to meet my mother and see my father playing his violin again so badly. But how can I when I know I'm still needed here."

She raised her hand and wiped away at her eyes. "Please Erik. Don't ask me again. When I'm ready, then I'll let you know. But for now… let's leave it be."

Erik wisely chose not to speak and nodded. This made her feel better and the sadness that was on her face soon disappeared. She looked relieved and happy that the subject was over.

Finding his voice, Erik said, "Very well. And we're… good?"

"Yes," she answered. "We're good."

"Okay. Do you mind telling me where you hid my watch?"

xxXXxx

The next day Erik left for the opera house and Christine was left to her own devices. Despite the truce made, she knew that it still bothered him that she wasn't allowing him to pursue her case. It was oddly… sweet that he wanted to find her killer and she appreciated the gesture he made, but the truth of the matter…

She was afraid to know what happened that day.

Perhaps a part of her was worried that Erik might be right… maybe Raoul had something to do with her death, but then she thought back to when he was here after her death… there was no denying the fact that he missed her so much.

Standing in the middle of the bedroom, Christine looked down at the bed and her mind drifted back to when this nightmare started.

xxXXxx

Three Years Ago…

? 2009

Christine opened her eyes, frantically looking around. The room was submerged in complete darkness and she fought to maintain some control of her senses. All she kept hearing was the thundering blast after… after…

Her brow creased as she tried to remember what it was she had been doing. She remembered her fight with Raoul and he left after she told him it was over... Then nothing. It was all blacked out.

Sitting up on the bed (how did I get there?) she fumbled around for the light switch. But wherever her hand landed on what should have been the wall, she felt nothing. Odd, she thought.

So she tried for the door. Yet, she could not seem to grasp the knob. Becoming frustrated over her lack of doing such a simple task, Christine raised both fists and as they came crashing down on the door… she felt her whole body fall passed through it.

She caught her balance and slowly turned around to see the bedroom door behind her. Still closed.

"What the Hell?" she muttered. "Is this some kind of joke? Raoul! Raoul!"

She moved towards the family room and halted when she saw the room filled with flowers and elaborate wreaths. The blooms… while still fresh had an unusual pungent smell.

Like…

She didn't finish the thought. Was Raoul trying to make it up to her? If so… he went way overboard on the flowers.

Christine was grateful the light was on and continued to call for her fiancé.

Strange… he wasn't answering.

"Okay, Raoul… I saw the flowers. I get it. You're sorry. We both overreacted. So come out and let's talk."

She wandered around and when it was clearly evident he wasn't home, Christine shook her head. With all this trouble he went to getting all these flowers, you would think he would have stayed when she woke up.

Walking back to one floral arrangement on the coffee table, she brought her nose close to sniff the lilies. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted what looked like a card nestled in safely within the flowers. She went to pick it up, but her fingers kept sliding off the cardstock.

"Must be one of those days," she said quietly to herself and settled for reading it right where it was. "'Sorry for your loss. May the Angels welcome her to her new home. Love, Aunt Donna and Uncle Richard.'"

Christine pulled back frowning, recognizing Raoul's family. It wasn't at all what she was expecting the card to say. What happened? Did someone they know die?

She didn't have to wait long as she heard the jiggling of the key in the lock. Looking up, a smile blossomed over her lips as Raoul entered the apartment.

"Hey hon," Christine said, rising. "I know we need to talk, but I just saw the flowers. What happened?"

He kept his back to her, shrugging out of his coat, never once returning her greeting. So Christine tried again. "Raoul. Look… we were over emotional last night but I have a clearer mind now. So c'mon honey. Turn around and talk to me."

His back stiffened and still he did not turn towards her or utter a single word.

"Raoul?" This time Christine said his name with hesitation. "I said some things that were harsh and I take it all back. We're not done. I still want to be your wife. I…"

"Christine…" he whispered as his shoulders began to quiver as he let out a sob. "Why?"

"I don't know," she replied. "I was pissed and you were jumping to these wild conclusions that I lashed out. But I had a good night's rest and I want us to work. We can make it work."

"You're gone… why? Why did you take her?"

Now, Christine's confusion deepened. "Raoul? What are you talking about? I'm right here. I'm not gone. See?"

He suddenly collapsed like he could no longer stand and continued to weep. This wasn't like him at all. Concerned, Christine ran to his side and while she reached for him… her hand went through his shoulder.

Horror crossed her face as she stared into Raoul's face as he mumbled her name over and over, and then she looked back to the flowers.

Sorry for your loss… No… No no no no no no!

Christine thrashed her head side to side as she pushed herself away from the grief-stricken man. No! Her hand didn't go through him. Those flowers didn't mean… they couldn't mean…

Gasping for air, Christine realized she couldn't feel anything in her chest. She couldn't feel…

A bang rattled in her head as the realization washed over her. She was dead.

xXx

To say acceptance was difficult was an understatement. Once Christine discovered that she was deceased and she was now some kind of specter… the first logical thing that came to her was to scream.

And screamed she did. Loud and long to no avail. Of course, when she realized she could keep screaming without growing hoarse, well, she stopped soon after.

But that wasn't all of it.

No… she was trapped. Quite literally.

She tried leaving the apartment and found herself with a tough obstacle: the door. She couldn't open the door and it wasn't just the front door. She couldn't open any other door to any of the rooms.

Yet, her Hell only worsened when she realized that Raoul couldn't hear her or see her. No matter how many times she called out to him, something was blocking him from responding to her.

Was this her punishment? To be so close to him yet so far away? None of this made any sense to her and as the hours passed… Christine found herself with little answers to the flood of questions that consumed her relentlessly.

The only thing she knew was that she had been dead for two weeks. Her funeral took place a couple days before she discovered this new reality of hers and Raoul hardly left the apartment.

It would have been fine if Christine was able to speak to him or touch him. Yet, her ghostly body was limited and she would find herself near him, but she couldn't do anything to comfort his anguish.

When day three of her new life started, Meg came to the apartment. At first, Christine thought she might be able to talk to her best friend, but just like before… her friend walked through her body like she was nothing but the air itself and she had to watch as Meg did her best to wake Raoul from his stupor.

It was days like this that pained Christine to observe. It was like he turned into a shell of the man she once knew and loved. He hardly slept or ate and even this short span of time… his appearance had changed greatly. His pallor was pasty and his chin was covered with coarse hair from not shaving.

"Raoul," Meg said softly, coming to sit next to him on the couch. "You didn't call liked you promised me."

"I said I would," he answered mechanically.

"It's been four days Raoul."

"What the fuck do you want from me?" he bitterly spat.

"Well," Meg said in her calm manner. "To make sure my friend is all right. You were a wreck during the funeral and with the—"

"I don't want to talk about it," he interrupted. "Go please."

"No." Meg stood and moved in front of him. "Raoul. You're not the only in mourning. She was my best friend too and it hasn't been easy for anyone, but you have to snap out of it. She wouldn't want this."

Raoul muttered something unintelligible, but it was enough for Meg's temper to snap. She seized his shoulders and shook him hard. "Goddamn you! You're doing nothing for Christine! Do you think she would be happy to see you like this?! To see you hurting yourself because of her? No! She wouldn't like it one bit and she would be telling you to get off your ass and take a fucking shower!"

That seemed to be the trick. Raoul managed to break from his depression to do as Meg asked. Christine was grateful that he did. Meg had been right. She didn't like that Raoul was wearing himself out and while there was little she could do to reach him, at least her friend was there to do what she couldn't.

The shower was a small victory. Eating was another thing. Yet, Meg did get him to eat at least half a plate of the food she brought over for him. The blonde stayed well into the evening and it was almost midnight by the time she left to go back home. Before she went, she promised Raoul she would check on him soon and that she better not find him in the same position again.

"Can't make any promises," he said. "But I'll try."

That seemed to appease her (as did Christine) and Meg left. Once alone, Christine waited to see what her fiancé would do next.

She didn't have to wait long.

He picked up his blanket from the couch and started to walk to their bedroom. Lately, he had been sleeping on the couch and as he got closer to the door… a look of unimaginable sorrow came over him and he quickly retreated to the couch.

He wasn't ready.

And neither was Christine.

xXx

Two hours later…

"Christine… oh God… Christine…"

Immediately, she appeared and went over to Raoul's side. Falling to her knees, Christine reached out to touch his forehead. However, like every time she attempted to touch him… her fingers would go through him.

Pulling back, Christine laid her hand in her lap as she listened to her fiancé weep for her.

"Why? Why did you leave me Christine? Why?"

His heartbroken plea only twisted the knife in her heart and she wished she knew. She wished she knew what God's plan was to take her away and if… if only she could comfort the man she loved.

Alas, her prayers went unanswered.

xXx

True to her word, Meg came back a couple days later and was pleased to see that Raoul still looked human. Of course, he had to admit that the uncleanliness wasn't a walk in the park for him either and had the nerve to be embarrassed about his lack of hygiene in front of her.

"I can't believe she's gone Meg. I just…"

"I know," the blonde said. "But we need to take each day at a time. Can you do that?"

He nodded. "I'll try."

They talked for a while, but it was an effort that Raoul wasn't really in the mood for and the conversation kept reverting back to Christine and memories of her.

It was still too painful to talk about the memories. Meg let it go and said she would call later.

She did and it was a short phone call, but at least it was the kind of distraction he needed at the moment.

But whatever it was Meg said… Raoul went back to the bedroom. This time he opened the door and stepped in for a minute before turning back and going to sleep on the couch.

It was a work in progress after all.

xXx

The pattern continued. Meg would stop by almost every day to see how Raoul was doing and each visit… she would try to get him to leave the apartment. Being cooped up in the apartment wasn't good for him and since Christine wasn't making any leeway with her attempts to communicate with him, she wanted him to go and get some fresh air. She was afraid that he would drive himself sick… or worse.

Eventually, the blonde did succeed in having Raoul leave for short trips. During these times, Christine took advantage of the opportunity to practice something of her own.

She had a long time to think and since she was a ghost… she should be able to do certain things. After all, she had seen enough shows to know that ghosts can make their presence known to the living. She just had to try and with Raoul gone… she could devote all her energy on one task.

It took her hours, but she believed she was able to make her hand solid.

Later that night…

"Ch-Christine…" Raoul wept brokenly.

This time, Christine stood over him, and with a deep concentration she stretched out her hand once again. She willed herself to become solid, to become real so she could touch him… so she could tell him that she was right there beside him. Closer she came to his cheek… she could practically see the tear streaks glistening from the moon seeping through the glass door. And for a quick flash… she could have sworn the moonlight did not go through her.

This was her chance!

Christine pressed her fingers along his jaw and she felt him stiffened beneath her touch. She let out a gasp, a joyful sob, and she called his name, "Raoul! I'm here Raoul!"

But the moment faded. He did not wake up nor did he give notice that he heard her.

Her hand fell back and Christine moved so she could look up at the ceiling.

"Why God?" she whispered. "Why can't I feel him? Why can't he hear me? Please… please give me this chance. I want him to know that I'm here. Why is that so difficult? Why won't You let me do this? Why?"

Her pleas went unanswered.

xXx

Near the end of the week, Meg came to see Raoul and spent most of the day with him. This time… they were reminiscing about Christine.

Of course, Christine sat not far from them and listened with tears in her eyes. A part of her felt selfish for wanting to hear what they had to say about her, but at the same time, it was also a punishment. She blamed herself for leaving Raoul, leaving Meg. Now, she was cursed to still be a part of their lives but without them ever knowing she was there.

When dinnertime approached, Meg suggested take-out as both were too emotional to actually cook. Raoul agreed and while they waited for their food to come, he asked her a question that had been on his mind for some time.

"Meg?"

"Hmmm?" she hummed as she set the table.

"I don't want to sound ungrateful or anything. You've been a great help and all, and God knows how bad I was getting… but are they okay with you spending this much time away from work?"

Meg tensed and her head dropped slowly. "So have you…"

"I know," he said. "But from what Christine has told me about the theatre, they run a pretty tight ship. I don't want you to get into trouble because of me."

"I'm not." Meg turned around and sighed heavily. "I guess I should tell you. I quit."

"You—you what?" Raoul asked.

"What!?" Christine exclaimed just as shocked as her boyfriend.

"Yeah… it was too much. Going to work every day and not seeing Christine. I couldn't do it. So I quit."

"But your dancing career…"

She shrugged. "I can still have it. But it will be somewhere else. I actually have an interview in two days for a ballet company. I'm not unhappy. Actually, I'm relieved more than anything. Working at the Trussler Opera House was her dreams, not mine."

"As long as you're happy, right?" Raoul said.

The blonde gave him a small smile. "I'm getting there."

xXx

Christmas was approaching. It was always a favorite holiday of Christine's and every year she would go all out to spread the Christmas cheer around her.

But not this year.

And neither was Raoul.

None of their decorations were up and he refused to get a tree. Christine didn't like this. She knew he was still mourning over her loss, but he knew how much Christmas meant to her. Perhaps, it was a silly idea, but she was hoping if he got into the Christmas spirit then there would be a miracle of some kind. Maybe he would be able to see her at last.

She was getting better now with her ability to move objects. However, it didn't always work at her command when she wanted them to, but it was all a work in progress. And now that Meg was busy at the Detroit Opera House, Raoul quickly returned to his old habit and rarely left the apartment. So practicing her newfound skill she had to be sneaky and careful. Working in a different room, she would practice for hours, only stopping when she heard Raoul call out to her or when she wanted to check on him to make sure he was all right.

He had his good days and bad days, but with the approaching of the holiday, he had been having way too many bad days.

As for her other attempts of communicating…

Well, it was wishful thinking on her half, but she thought that now and then Raoul might have heard her. He never came out and asked if it was her, but there would be a slight twitch on his visage or a quick dart from the corner of his eye… it was that kind of attention that she desperately craved for. And if she could make him aware of her presence… then she might be able to talk freely with him.

She set about on her mission by first using the bathroom mirror. The steam from the shower would fog up the glass and what better way to get a message across?

While he showered, Christine stood by the mirror as she watched the condensation dripped down the pane. When the glass was covered, she lifted her finger and began to slide it over to make his name. It was a slow process as her finger would lose the mass and become transparent. She was able to draw an "R" and was about to get started on the next letter of his name when the shower was turned off.

Christine made a mad dash to finish the rest of her message, but Raoul stepped out from the tub and grabbed a towel. She waited with abated breath as she watched him go over to the mirror. All she managed to write was R-a and half of the letter 'o' and he frowned at it.

This was it!

She crossed her fingers, waiting for him to say her name…

Instead, he took his hand and wiped it away before going back to his ablations. He never once said anything about it and Christine angrily flew past him, hoping to stir a cold breeze, yet Raoul didn't pay any heed.

Clearly, she had more practice to do if she wanted to send him a written message.

Her next attempt was to talk to him while he slept. Perhaps he would be more receptive if he wasn't fully conscious.

As he slept fitfully, Christine bent her lips over to his ear to whisper to him. She repeated her words throughout the night, hoping a part of it would stick with him. The following morning she stepped back to see if it worked, and Raoul went about his routine. He didn't call to her nor did he seem to be any different.

Yet, one thing did change. That night he returned to their bedroom and he actually spent the night sleeping there.

Well, it hadn't been the results she was looking for, but at least it was something.

One day, Meg came over for her weekly visit.

"Raoul, you know there are only a couple weeks left before Christmas," the blonde said as she entered the apartment. "Why don't you put up some lights? Or get a small tree? You know how much Christine loved it."

"I'm not in a celebrating mood," he said gruffly walking past her to go into the kitchen for a beer. "I can't, all right? It's too soon."

"Yeah but Raoul… sitting here all day and all night isn't helping either."

"I don't fucking care," he shot back. "It reminds me too much of her. I can't and that's it."

Meg sighed. "Well, how about a snowman somewhere? It's wintery."

Raoul was going to protest, but decided not to. "Fine. One snowman decoration and that's it."

"Good! Because I bought this for you." Meg reached into one of the several bags she brought in and pulled out a snowman statue. It wasn't very big, but he had a black hat and blue scarf around its neck. "I'll put it right here." She went over to the mantle by the fireplace and set it on top. "There. Christine would have loved it."

Raoul looked at it and sadly nodded. "She would."

Meg turned around and slapped her hands together. "All right. I figured I would make us some dinner. Hope you're hungry for chicken parm."

"Thanks Meg, but I'll pass this time."

"Raoul, this isn't good for you. You were making good progress and now… You know Christine wouldn't like it if you were wasting away, especially over her. I know you miss her. I do too, but you have to understand that this isn't going to bring her back."

Raoul took a big gulp of his beer as his eyes watered. "I know Meg. I still think that I'm living some kind of nightmare world and when I wake up she's going to be right there lying beside me. And I would tell her what happened and she would laugh at me for worrying over something that wasn't real. But every time I wake… she's not there. She's never there."

Sympathy came over the blonde's face and she went over to give him a hug. Holding Raoul tight, Meg whispered, "It's all right Raoul. It's all right."

His arms went around her and he squeezed her to his body as he let out a sob. "I miss her so goddamn much! I keep asking God why He couldn't have taken me instead. Why didn't I stay at home? If I did… then maybe, maybe she never would have died."

Meg pulled back and held his face. "Listen to me Raoul. Do not blame yourself, okay? You're not at fault."

"But—"

"No buts," she said firmly. "Christine wouldn't like it and you know I'm right. It's not fair but we can't go back into the past. We have to accept what happened and move on with our lives. That's what she would have wanted."

Raoul sniffed, nodding as he wiped his tears with the back of his hand. "Thank you Meg. You're a wonderful friend. I don't deserve you."

Meg gave him a tiny smile before she went back and put away all the groceries. Once she was done, she started to make dinner.

Christine sat next to Raoul on the couch, staring at him as he seemed to withdraw in himself once more. It grieved her to see him like this and for him to think that she wasn't there anymore…

"Oh Raoul," she said on a sigh. "I am here. If only you could open your mind. I am always here."

And like always… he never knew she was so close.

xXx

Christmas Day 2009

Already it's been over a month since Christine had passed and while Christmas brought her happiness… there was only sorrow as she watched Raoul pull out a couple of wrapped presents from the bedroom closet.

He held both boxes closely as he shuffled out to the living room and took his usual seat on the couch. He gently placed the gifts on the coffee table, a tear rolling down his blondish fuzz on his face. As it grew closer to the holiday, Raoul chose not to shave and while Christine loved a little bit of gruff on a man, he looked absolutely ragged and the beard made him unrecognizable.

She knew one of the boxes right away. It was a present from her to him that she wrapped in advance. Raoul could sometimes be like a little boy and would go searching for gifts so she got into the habit of wrapping presents once she bought them to avoid a snooping eye. The grinning Santa Clauses stared up at him and for a brief second… a look of anger cast over his features.

But as quickly as it came… it faded and he raised one shaky hand to pick it up. Raoul continued to look at it, as if contemplating if he should open it or not. He decided against it as he set it back on the table and picked up his gift to her.

Christine couldn't look away as Raoul unwrap that one. She let out a gasp when she saw it was her father's violin, all pristine and shiny like a brand new one.

Months ago the violin fell into an unfortunate accident and it was badly damaged. Christine was bereft that the chances of it being repaired were slim. She was told that it wouldn't be salvaged. Unable to bear the thought of throwing it out herself, she had asked Raoul to do it for her. But it would seem that Raoul found someone who was able to fix the instrument and he was going to give it back to her.

There was no doubt in her mind that it cost Raoul a fortune to have it restored. No words could describe her gratitude and pleasure of seeing that beloved violin back in its former glory.

She actually forgot her current disposition and went over to pick it up, but as soon as her arms disappeared through it… her harsh reality hit her and she fell back in her seat as tears streamed down her face.

Bad enough she couldn't comfort her fiancé but not to touch her father's instrument? It killed her even more.

Yet, to her surprise, Raoul picked it up and the bow.

Now… this was curious. Raoul never played an instrument in his life and he could hardly stay in tune when he sang aloud.

He placed the violin against his shoulder, tucking it beneath his chin, and he raised the bow to play a soft melody.

He took lessons too… Not only did he fix the violin, but he learned how to play for her.

Christine was amazed and speechless as Raoul continued his mournful song. When he finished, he opened his eyes and quietly spoke:

"Christine… if you're there… Merry Christmas."

Raoul set the violin back in its package and closed it back up. He didn't say a word about the violin nor did he take it out when Meg came over to get him to go out with some friends. He reluctantly did leave the apartment and when he was gone… Christine tried to pick up the violin again.

This time she was successful and she hugged the instrument to her heart.

xXx

New Year's Eve 2009

Raoul opted out from going to his firm's New Year's party and chose to stay in the apartment. As soon as the clock read 12:00, Raoul lifted a bottle of beer in the air.

"Happy New Year's Christine," he said to the empty space.

Sitting in front of him, Christine murmured, "Happy New Year's Raoul."

xXx

"Seriously Raoul… you have to leave this apartment. Sitting here like this day in and day out isn't good for you," scolded Meg. "It has been three months. What about work?"

"Work?" Raoul repeated incredulously. "Who can think about work?"

"Raoul," Meg said with a hint of impatience and irritation. "You need to get back into your routine. It's a godsend that no one has called to say you're fired. Yet."

"Go away Meg."

"No." The blonde grabbed him by the arm and pulled him towards the bedroom. "You're going to get dressed. I mean dressed and we are going to go to work. I'll drop you off and pick you up when I'm done at the theatre."

"You're not my mother Meg. I'm a grown man for Pete's sake," Raoul muttered.

"Yes, well, 'grown man' you need to grow up. This moping and sulking isn't going to do you any favors. Now get your ass in there and put some clothes on. Or do I have to dress you myself?"

That got through him and Raoul mumbled all sorts of curses as he went in to do as he was told.

"Thank you Meg," Christine said. "He needs to go to work."

Of course, she didn't hear her.

Ten minutes later, Raoul emerged in a suit and tie. His hair was combed back and he looked pretty presentable. He hurried past Meg to grab his suitcase and grumbled, "Let's get this over with."

With a beaming smile, Meg followed him out.

xXx

Christine was still limited in what she could and could not do. While her attempts to make contact have gone unnoticed, she was forced to be an observer of Raoul and her friends. She did make some progress in leaving the apartment, but she could only go as far as the main doors. She was still trapped but at least she could move beyond her apartment, which was a nice pace.

So when Raoul would leave to go to work, Christine would practice walking around the complex and testing her limits to go outside. She didn't understand how she was granted this small form of freedom or how it was done, but she decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth. She took what she could and focused her strength on stretching her legs out further.

She did come to the realization that the farther she was from the apartment, she would feel this unexplainable sense of loss and when she would reappear back within the boundaries… she felt safe and secure. Perhaps since it was where she had died she had a connection to the location and being apart was painful.

Being a ghost (at times like this) sucked and she would give anything to be able to move about freely without consequence. She wanted to see Raoul in his element in the courtroom, and most of all, she wanted to see the Trussler Opera House.

Since her passing, she hadn't given much thought about the theater or the people there. All her time was consumed with contacting Raoul and her little world in the apartment that she never once thought about Erik Trussler or his music.

Now…

More than anything she missed the music. She missed singing and being on the stage. Her whole life she was preparing for her moment to shine and she was so close to achieving that dream. All she had left to remember was that brief feeling of ecstasy when she took center stage for one night… the very same night that changed her life forever.

Then in one swift split second everything ended.

She wondered if Erik Trussler knew if it had been her those times they spent together alone in the theater. Did he shed a tear for her? Or did he even care?

Those were the questions Christine would never know the answers to.

As for the masked composer, Christine only heard about him from the various entertainment shows. She heard about how he and Elena Carlton broke up and got back together at least several times and she thought back to that day when she advised him not to let her go. Christine couldn't help but think if she gave him the best advice after all, yet they would always come back and when they did… he looked genuinely happy.

As for Elena… it appeared she wasn't as thrilled or happy as he seemed to be. Of course, no one noticed this. No… Christine could tell in her eyes that she wasn't as eager to be in the relationship as Erik Trussler was. Naturally, her first dislike of her only grew. This woman did not deserve him and Christine found herself pretending what it would be like to be Erik Trussler's girlfriend.

This filled with her shame for the man she pledged to be with continued to mourn for her and here she was… as a ghost no less… fantasizing about another man.

What was it about Erik Trussler that drew her to him?

With all the time she had, Christine would study him from the television freely without the worry that Raoul might catch her. The one thing that she kept eyeing was his mask. It was no secret or surprise that many have conjecture what lay beneath the white porcelain. For as long as Christine could remember there have been speculations and rumors about his face. No one had ever seen behind the mask and it only caused the mystery and curiosity to grow among all who have met him and from tabloids all over the world.

Even in death, Christine was curious to see what he was hiding. But more than that… she could see past the façade he had created and wanted to know why this man suffered as much as he did. What secrets did he guard so closely to keep anyone from finding out?

And why couldn't she get the man out of her mind?

xXx

April 2010

"I have given the idea some thought," Raoul told Meg.

"What idea?" Christine questioned but then mentally slapped herself because no one heard her. And, of course, they weren't going to answer her.

"I'm glad!" Meg said with a cheerful smile. "I really think it's for the best you do this."

"Do what?" Christine asked, coming to stand by the table where they sat. "How come I didn't hear this before? What have you two been talking about?"

The last couple of months Raoul was spending less and less time at the apartment. He was always home at a decent hour and slept and ate there, but lately he was starting to work late hours again and he was spending time with his friends. He was even hanging out with Meg more often.

Christine hadn't thought anything bad about it. She was actually pleased that Raoul was living a healthier life. That's all she wanted was for him to start smiling and laughing again. Now… she was afraid.

"I have thought about it from time to time, but I couldn't do it because I kept thinking… what if she knows? What if she's still here? How will that make her feel?" Raoul stood and went over to the counter to pour a mug of coffee. Leaning against it, he took a sip. "I know how that sounds, Meg, and I wish to God I had at least one sign. Something from her."

"Hello!" Christine shouted, waving her arms. "I have been! You weren't listening! So stop that crap you're pulling Raoul."

"I know you did," Meg said softly. "But we have to remember… she's in a better place and more than likely she has found her peace."

"I haven't found shit!" Christine rolled her eyes and dropped her head on the table, banging it gently. "Some afterlife this is turning out. C'mon you guys… tell me what in the world is going on?"

"That's what I keep telling myself every day," Raoul said with a sad smile. "I miss her Meg. I'll always will. But I think it's time I make some changes. I can't keep mourning Christine for the rest of my life. It's not doing me any favors and I know she wouldn't like it if I continue to drive myself crazy with grief. In fact, I think I did get a message from her after all. Last night."

At this Christine perked up. "I did? What did I say?" She did stop in her attempts when it wasn't getting her anywhere, but was it possible that something she said stuck with him? And now he was finally hearing her at last?

"What was it?" Meg asked.

"Shhh!" Christine hushed. "I want to hear what he has to say."

"I had a dream and I heard Christine's father's violin playing this song. It was a very distinct one that Christine would often sing to herself. Do you remember her stories about Little Lotte and the Angel of Music?"

"Of course," Meg replied. "Her father told her those stories all the time."

"Yes, I know, and it was that one song I heard in my dream. Then I knew. I knew what I had to do."

"What? What!?" Christine cried impatiently.

"It's time I moved out of here and found somewhere else to live."

xxXXxx

Present Time

That had been one of the worst days in her new ghostly existence. For Raoul to move? How would she be able to watch over him? To make sure he was all right?

She didn't like it but there was nothing she could do to stop him. He had already found a place and he had the plans to move out that following week.

So with a heavy heart, Christine was forced to watch Raoul packed up everything he owned and he even sold some of her furniture that she purchased before they moved in together. Even her beloved piano was sold and she prayed that he wouldn't sell her father's violin. If he did… that would crush her more than anything and she wouldn't know how to forgive him.

Thankfully, he did not.

Instead, he took the violin with him. He told Meg this was one piece of Christine he could never give up and he would never dare part from the instrument that meant the world to her.

Christine had to say goodbye to Raoul and her father's violin. Even to this day, she hoped that the violin was still in his possession.

She walked out to the balcony and gazed out over the city. Since Erik was able to see her, Christine hadn't thought about Raoul until now.

Did he still miss her?

Despite her preoccupation with the masked musician, Christine missed her fiancé and she wished she knew what he was doing right now.

But there was another emotion that loomed over her and it was one that filled her with dread—

Has he forgotten her?

xxXXxx

When rehearsals were underway to prepare for the night's performance, Erik stole away to his office. Despite Christine's plea for him to forget finding her murderer, he couldn't keep that promise.

He sent out several inquiries about her and was waiting back for the responses. It didn't sit right with him that her killer was out enjoying the high life while Christine remained in this mortal world. Even though they had a rocky start, Erik did like her and he respected and admired her for what she has gone through. She was an incredibly strong woman not just in death, but he had to guess in life too.

If he had known what a treasure she was… Erik wouldn't have wasted a moment and would have put her on that stage where she belonged to be adored by all. He was an idiot back then and now… Now he wanted nothing more than to do something for her. Something meaningful.

He knew she wouldn't be happy if she learned this so Erik wanted to be absolutely certain he had all the facts collected before he could go to her and tell her what he had learned. No doubt she would be furious that he went behind her back, but once she knew the truth… he had no doubt in his mind that she would be grateful.

The thought put a smile on his face.

Knock. Knock.

Erik looked up and beckoned the guest to enter. Nervously and anxiously, the former managers Andre and Firmin came into his office. Seeing the two gentlemen, Erik couldn't prevent himself from smiling even more so that they received his message.

"Come in please. Will you shut the door? Thank you. Go on and take a seat."

Erik held out his hand as the two older men took a seat in the chairs by the desk. Their expressions were mirrored with the same look—confusion and fear that they might have misinterpreted Erik's email.

"I must say… I'm very pleased that you two showed up. After what happened last time… I was half-expecting you not to show your faces."

Firmin licked his lips and clasped his hands together. "Yes… well… imagine our surprise when we both received your email. Mr. Trussler, about last time—"

Erik waved his hand. "There is no point in bringing up that mess. What happened did happen and we'll leave it at that. No… I asked you two to come because there was a particular matter that I wanted to know and I believe you two can help me in my search."

This piqued both men. Clearly, this was not the type of meeting they thought would transpire.

"After what was done to your theater… what can we do to help?" Andre asked eagerly.

"I want you to tell me everything you know about a chorus girl by the name of Christine Daaé."

TBC…