Chapter 26 - final chapter

I refused to dwell on the tragic circumstances that brought us here this day as I washed off the blood stains from my hands and face. Apathy was keeping me in one piece as I changed my clothes with calm composure and made my way to the train station. There were things that needed to be done.

The train station was quiet – the hectic and fevered excitement of the passengers went with the last train to New York City. I had no problem finding Gustave. He was sitting alone on the bench with his luggage, checking his pocket watch worriedly. Suddenly, I realized how small and lost he was, how much he needed his mother. Christine was dead and I had to find a way to tell him the terrible news.

With quiet determination, I walked up to the boy. "Hello, Gustave…"

"Madame..."

"Do you remember me?" I asked, sitting down next to him. "I'm your mother's friend; Meg Giry…"

Gustave nodded. "Where is she? Have you seen my mother?"

With a heavy sigh, I said slowly, "Something has happened to your mother, Gustave… She…she…"

The hardest thing was deciding what I should tell him and what not to. Christine's death was all so sudden. Summoning my resolve, I said, "Gustave, your mother has gone away… and she wants you to stay with me for a while…"

"Why?" he asked innocently.

"In time, you will understand," I explained, holding out my hand to him. "You need to come with me now, please…"

He grew quiet and then lifted his clear blue eyes to me and said, "She is not coming back, is she?"

I swallowed a lump in my throat and shook my head. "No…"

Gustave hesitated for a moment as if he was deciding whether to trust me and then he reached out to put his hand in mine. I pulled him into a hug and together, we walked away from the train station. As we reached the safe house, Gustave instinctively recoiled when he saw Erik.

"Don't be afraid, Gustave," I said gently. "This is Erik…"

"Maman's Angel of Music," he replied with guarded recognition.

"Yes, well… He is more than that, Gustave. Erik is an architect, engineer and magician…"

Gustave's eyes lit up. "…a magician?"

"Erik wants to show you a few tricks. Would you like that?" I asked, turning to look at Erik with an unspoken plea. He was well aware how delicate the situation was with Christine's death. Now was not the time to reveal secrets that would further drive a wedge between father and son. Erik nodded slowly at my suggestion.

The boy looked to me and bravely went to his father. It was a start and perhaps, one day, Gustave would learn not to fear the mask anymore.

After the boy had gone to sleep, the tight rein I held on my emotions snapped and I sobbed hard, letting the tears fall freely. Physically and mentally, I was drained. My hands were cold and shaking so badly that the cup I was holding slipped and shattered on the floor. The piercing sound brought Erik running into the room.

"Meg, are you all right?" he asked anxiously.

There was no greater bliss on earth than being in his arms and being comforted by his kisses. But tonight, I was inconsolable. "Oh, Erik! It should have been me… All this should have ended with me!" I cried in despair.

"Don't say that," Erik responded passionately. "Don't even think that! Christine made her choice when she flung herself in the line of fire… You cannot blame yourself…"

I stared at him transfixed. "How many more must die before this nightmare ends? How many more?"

Erik was silent. "As many as it takes…" he answered gravely. "Sacrifices must be made…We will move from one town to the next even to the ends of this earth, whatever it takes to keep you and the children alive…"

How could I have been so naïve to believe that the threat on my life was over that somehow I could lead a normal life? I felt a premonitory dread – this incident proved that no matter where I went, they would find me and hound me till the day I die. But Erik had a choice – he could walk away from all this and take Gustave with him. Considering the enormous consequences, it would be foolish for him to stay…

"Do you regret marrying me, Erik?" I asked mournfully.

Erik gazed down at me with a sad frown. "No…never!"

Tears filled my eyes. "In the years to come, you'll pretend that it doesn't matter but it will… I can't bear knowing you will hate me for it!"

"I could never hate you… I love you, Meg," he whispered. "More than life itself…"

Then, Erik lifted my frail body and carried me to bed. As he lay down beside me, he said, "I remember many years ago, you said to me that you would thank heaven and all the saints if you had someone sing to you…Shall I sing for you?"

It seemed like a lifetime ago when I uttered those words and he remembered. Touched by his concern, I nodded.

Once upon a another time,

I knew how our story would end...

We love, we live…

We give what we can give,

And take what little we deserve...

Erik began to sing, softly at first and the haunting melody enveloped my senses, drawing my soul out of its misery. I heard his voice in my head calling me to strive for the dream, to feel alive again. My sobbing ceased and I grew quiet. When he stopped, I reacted with panic and clutched at his shirt, seeking the reassurance that only he could give. "Erik!"

"You will not be alone," he said more gently now. "I shall be with you… Trust me…"

He knew as I looked at him, that no song could make the difference as the darkness I feared would never be taken away.

…ooo…ooo…ooo…ooo…

The press went mad with news of Christine's death and by evening, it was on the front page of every newspaper. Some had speculated that she had been kidnapped and murdered; others said she was robbed, stabbed or a multitude of ridiculous theories. Moreover, her son, Gustave was mysteriously missing. The authorities began their investigation and contacted her only kin, Raoul d'Chagny.

In the meantime, Erik and I were desperately trying not to let the gossip get to Gustave. He was still too young to bear the reality of this burden. The boy seemed to be taking his mother's absence quite well as he seemed content in his own little world, absorbed in his drawings, books and music. Gustave was still wary of Erik - getting up hurriedly whenever Erik entered the room, unconsciously clutching the folds of my gown against his chest as though it were some kind of protection from his father. In a way, I admired the noble effort he was making to control his terror and the palpable relief in his eyes when Erik left the room.

"The boy trusts you," said Erik to me one evening.

"Gustave needs time to adjust especially with…with Christine gone," I murmured. "Give him time…"

Erik sighed as he gazed out the window. "The Comte will be arriving in Philadelphia soon," he said tightly. "I suppose he would want to know that Gustave is safe and well…"

I agreed. "After all, Raoul is the only father and only family that Gustave knows…"

Raoul arrived in Philadelphia ten days later. The authorities were happy to give every consideration to such an important man of society and released Christine's body to him out of courtesy and respect for his family. They had told him that Christine's death had been an accident and the gun that killed her was found on the dead man, presumed to be the kidnapper. As there had been no witnesses and no leads, they decided to close the case. As Erik knew where Raoul was staying, he had left a note in his hotel suite requesting him to meet at an appointed place.

From the window, I could see Raoul disembark from his carriage and slowly walk up to the stairs. Erik, Nadir and I had agreed that it was time he knew the truth and the police should be left out of the loop to preserve Christine's reputation. Taking a deep breath, I went to the door and opened it. His jaw dropped at the sight of me. "It cannot be!" he exclaimed.

"Hello, Raoul. Please come in…"

"Meg Giry, it has been a long time," he said with a sigh and walked in.

In the unforgiving sunlight, I could see that Raoul had aged a lot, streaks of white against brown and wrinkles around bloodshot eyes. He was dressed for mourning. Neither one of us could find the words to begin our conversation.

"I am sorry for your loss, Raoul," I began.

Raoul nodded his head sadly. "Christine was like a sister to you too… Since our wedding day, things just… went astray. My love was never enough for her… She always wanted more and I guess it has brought us to this…"

I bit my lower lip in hesitation. "Raoul, there is something you should know…"

"What is it?"

"Papa!" cried Gustave as he burst into the room and embraced Raoul. "Aunt Meg told me you were coming today…"

Raoul received his son in a daze. "Gustave, my son!"

"I'm glad you're here," Gustave replied with a big smile.

Then, Raoul gazed up at me, still shocked. "How did you find him?"

"It was Christine's wish that he lived with me…"

Raoul's eyes widened with disbelief and silence followed. Then, he turned to Gustave. "Would you go to your room to play while I speak with Mademoiselle Giry?" he said quietly.

Crestfallen, Gustave muttered, "Yes, Father…"

"Thank you, son. I will speak with you later… There are a few pressing details I need to settle with Mademoiselle Giry."

After Gustave departed, we stood in silence. "Lots of things have changed since we parted in Paris," he muttered sadly.

In the wake of resignation and new resolve, I replied, "Yes, indeed. Remember how it was? The Opera Populaire once upon a time? There were two little girls who lived there; one was a singer and the other a ballerina…"

"There was also a certain Opera Ghost," Erik added as he appeared before Raoul.

"You!" Raoul gasped, his look of aghast recognition was unmistakable. He gripped his cane as he demanded coldly, "What are you doing here?"

"Raoul, please… this is not what you think," I suggested nervously.

He looked at us with confusion.

"Erik is my husband… We were married when we came to America," I told him.

With a calm and dispassionate voice, I confided my past to Raoul. I did not spare myself and I did not spare him, he had to know – he had the right to know the circumstances of Christine's death. When I had finished my grim confession, Raoul grew very still, staring into the hearth. I even told him about Christine's last wish for Gustave.

Raoul was not particularly pleased with the prospect of having Gustave stay with us with my present perilous condition.

"Meg, I do hope we can come to a peaceful solution to all of this. I know what Christine told you but there is so much that needs to be addressed. In light of recent revelations, I'm asking that you leave Gustave with me," he spoke quickly seeing that I was about to protest. "You may even see him as often as you wish…"

"That is out of the question," said Erik grimly.

I stood up and protested, "Gustave stays with us…"

But Raoul was apoplectic. "I'm sorry…You tell me a story of these people who want you dead and yet you want Gustave with you!" he cried desperately. He had a valid point but it would not be what Christine had wanted.

"It's a risk we'll have to take," Erik decided.

"I don't want to lose my only son but if I don't stop you from making this fatal mistake, I will lose the right to call myself a man of honor," said Raoul as he stormed out of the room in anger. It seemed hopeless – there was nothing that I could say to make Raoul change his mind.

In a swift move, Erik grabbed Raoul's arm and slammed him against the wall roughly. "He is NOT your son, Raoul…If you try to get the authorities involved, you will never see Gustave again!" he hissed, glaring at his former rival. "We will take him away and you will never find him…"

"How dare you lay a hand on me!" Raoul shouted back.

The tension in the room was palpable as both men stared down each other.

"Gentlemen, please!" I pleaded for calm. "I'm sure there is a reasonable solution to all of this… We're here to honor Christine's last wishes. Her funeral is tomorrow and she will not rest in peace until we've done what she asked of us…"

With great reluctance, Erik let go of Raoul.

"Gustave may not be my son but he is my sole heir," Raoul said gravely. "I will allow him to stay with you for Christine's sake but on one condition – that he return to me at the age of majority."

"You will allow someone not of your blood to carry on the Chagny line?" said Erik incredulously.

"Does it surprise you that I love only Christine and do not wish to marry another? Why do you think I haven't divorced her all those years ago?"

Raoul's remark had stung Erik as he turned away in silence. I had thought it unfair that he should gloat in front of Erik, acting the high-born hero of this melodrama but perhaps, he really did love Christine and was holding out, hoping that she would return to him.

"This will be a secret between us. No one outside this room needs to know about Gustave's past. If you agree to my stipulation, I will not pursue this matter further," Raoul said. "Gustave stays with you…"

With a sigh, I nodded.

At the funeral, I went with slow, leaden-hearted dread to the elevated coffin. Candles burned on either side of the shiny mahogany casket. I gazed at Christine one final time, the waxen face revealed on the silk pillow preserved her beauty. I felt no anger as I looked down upon her – yes, I forgave her everything in that moment. Erik was somewhere around, lingering in the shadows of the chapel and staying away from the crowds who came in to pay their last respects. He had said little about Christine's tragic death and I was too caught up with my own problems to ask.

After the service was over, I returned to the safe house and overheard the melancholy strains of the violin coming from the rooftop. Slowly, I climbed up the stairs and found Erik - his face was white and tragic but the eyes that rested on mine was red from tears. Stretching out my hand, I pulled him into a hug and allowed him to grieve. I did not speak or move but concentrated on pouring all my strength and comfort into Erik, just as he did for me.

Raoul spent a few more days in Philadelphia with Gustave until he returned to France. The boy was devastated with his departure but bore it like a brave little man he was. I assured him that he would see his father again and he seemed comforted by the promise. Gustave had always treated me with kindness and respect as he would to an aunt or an older relative and never caused me any worry or pain. One day, I would have to tell him about Christine's death and I hope that he would find it in his heart to forgive me for keeping this a secret.

In the meantime, Erik had made arrangements for all of us to move south, to a place called New Orleans.

"It has quite a large French speaking community there," Erik told me.

My eyes lit up. I had longed to hear the soft, familiar lilt of my native language again – its seductive vowels and lovely, rolling consonants. How good it was to be able to hear French spoken everywhere.

"Yes, let us go there," I echoed enthusiastically.

It would be a new beginning for us and our unborn child. Our home, La Belle was given to Nadir's friend, Rose so she could use it to start her own business. She was shocked and unprepared for this unprecedented generosity. "I promise I will keep it in good condition until you return one day," she said, shaking my hand fervently.

I prepared a sumptuous dinner of roast meats, fish and salad on our last day at La Belle. All of us ate silently, savoring the moment when Erik stood up and looked at each one of us, lingering a little longer on Gustave who was picking at the tiny bones from the fish on his plate. The boy did not have the faintest suspicion that anything was wrong.

"I want to thank my lovely wife for making this delicious meal and I'm happy to have all of you here, friends and family this evening," Erik began. "Although we did not have a chance to stay for long here, La Belle has many fond memories… "

Yes, this place certainly held many memories for me as I reached out to hold Erik's hand. He turned to me and smiled. "And perhaps, one day we will return for good…"

Erik's words landed with effect as tears started to well in my eyes. Bravely, I smiled and wiped them away as Erik sat down and drew me into a hug.

"I'll drink to that!" said Nadir as he lifted his goblet.

Now, Gustave looked up and asked, "Are we going somewhere, Aunt Meg?"

I turned to the boy and replied with veiled nonchalance, "Yes, we are going for a trip to the American South... I'm sure there will be lots of new things to see!"

Gustave's face lit up. "Please, I'd like to see more of this country!" he exclaimed with delight.

"You will, son," said Erik somberly.

We tried to return to our food but the mood for merriment was just not there. The next day, we boarded the steamship, the Atlantic Queen and set sail for New Orleans.

...ooo...ooo...ooo...ooo...

Author's Note: A note of apology to all readers for not updating sooner. I have just returned from a hectic Christmas holiday and now, I'm writing again. *sigh* The story ends here but stay tuned for the epilogue. Please, please review! xoxo