I decided to divide this chapter into two shorter ones. I'll try to have the second part posted by the weekend. After that, there is one more chapter to this segment. As in, if this were a television show, Chapter 28 would be the season finale. The next part is the final part to this story and will probably run 10-12 chapters. Thank you for your continuous support, despite all the delays.

Read and Review!

When Erik returned that night, she pretended to be asleep. After a couple of minutes, she barely opened her eyes. There was enough light from a nearby lamp for her to see. He was kneeling on the floor near the piano. His mask lay beside him. His face was in his hands. It didn't look like he was crying. His shoulders weren't shaking, and he was still.

She closed her eyes again, feeling a tremor near her heart, a desire to reach out. That was her first instinct – to feel terrible for him. It was her brain that tried to protest. Let him feel bad for all he's done. He deserves to feel bad. But her chest still ached, leaving her brain to finally shut down and go back to sleep.

In the morning, Erik seemed fine again. After fetching her a ham and egg breakfast sandwich, he asked her if she was ready to begin her lessons. She agreed. They practiced for many more hours. She didn't even know when the morning ended and the afternoon began. She pushed thoughts of the future and of the past from her head. She focused on the moment, the song, measure, the note. More than being happy by her progress, Erik almost seemed relieved, as though he were afraid that he had broken her. She chose not to be broken.

She had soon nearly mastered the classical piece, an aria from "The Tender Land," along with her oldies piece, "Unchained Melody." Erik's piece was the most challenging. She didn't even know how to classify it, as a ballad or a folksong, classical or modern. The lyrics were unexpected, something about staring at the ocean. "I changed all of them," he explained, perhaps noticing her expression when she read over the words a third time. "It was a love song. Now they are about serenity. I thought you would enjoy that theme more. Calmness."

The lyrics seemed more sad than serene to her. Like a plea, but not for love. More like a plea for peace. Maybe? In any case, the song made her uncomfortable. Still, she tried to master it as Erik continued with his corrections. The lyrics were haunting. The embrace of the black sky…The frigid kiss of the sea….

"I think you are nearly ready," he told her a day or two later. "Of course, I would like to prepare you a bit longer, but we cannot stay here forever. There are too many idiots with guns running around above us." She had been so immersed in music that she barely remembered anything else. Like the police who were searching for them. And Raoul, who was probably going insane with worry. It was easier to not think too much. "Tomorrow, we will begin the next step," Erik said. "Then we will leave this city, yes? And marry?"

She nodded and took a seat on the sofa. She watched as he stacked music together. The blackness of his suit jacket. The white of his shirt collar brushing against his pale neck. The oddest urge came to her from out of nowhere. She didn't have time to suppress it before it invaded her consciousness. I want to touch him.

Erik looked at her. "Is something wrong?" he asked.

"No," she whispered, sharply glancing away. She felt warmth in her face. "I'm fine."

He turned back to the music. She felt so confused that she wanted to cry. Given her promise to Erik, her life sentence, wouldn't it be better for her to feel that way? And yet - she felt like she was surrendering to a horribly unfair situation. She was still furious. But…that wasn't all she felt sometimes.

I'm so tired. What I want more than anything is to hide from the entire world and take a week long nap. Then maybe I can figure out everything.

Of course, she could never hide from Erik.

They went on another walk that night. She needed some fresh air, and Erik was obviously restless. She took his hand, entwining their fingers together. They stayed in the alleys and shadows, which gave them a tour of the city's giant metal dumpsters.

"Erik, how did you meet Nadir?" she asked toward the end.

"That idiot? I assisted him on a case."

"What kind of case?"

"What does it matter? We had a mutually beneficial relationship. Mostly. When he wasn't being a complete nuisance."

"But why would you help him in the first place?" she pressed.

Erik waved his free hand dismissively to the side. "I knew of human trafficking. It was a particularly vile operation involving children."

"And you told him about it so that he could stop it?"

A hesitation. "Yes."

She looked up at him. "Erik, that's a wonderful thing. Why wouldn't you want to tell me about it?"

His shoulders hunched slightly. "I simply do not talk about those times."

"I'm proud of you for doing that."

Erik stopped walking and stared down at her. He froze. His eyes looked strange, as though he had realized something horrible. "Do not say that," he commanded, his voice low and soft. "That is the last thing you should ever say."

"Why?"

He started walking again, forcing her along. "Let's go home now. We need to prepare."

Why did he hate praise? Why did he hate any acknowledgement that he wasn't a bad person?

She shrugged and returned to the theater with him, back to the fog of glorious music.

A fog that hid everything.

In the early afternoon of the next day, Erik displayed several dresses and asked her to choose. A long lavender one made of satin. A shorter red one that caused her to blush. She chose a glossy midnight blue dress with straps and a hem that came down past her knees. The bottom flared out slightly. Rhinestones decorated the area near her chest. She wore blue high heels to match and a necklace with tiny pearls. Nylons. Pink lipstick. Blush. She thoroughly brushed her hair, but Erik mourned that she could not have it professionally styled.

"Someday," he stated. "Someday you will have everything you deserve. You will be a star."

She gazed at herself in a full-length mirror that Erik had bought only for her. "I think this is good enough." She barely recognized herself. But not in a bad way. She had never been so dressed up before, so glamorous.

Next came the electronics. Erik brought out a microphone, an expensive camera on a tripod, and two high-powered laptops. He adjusted several standing lamps around her, taking his time so that everything was perfect. "May I fix your hair?" he softly asked, keeping his eyes lowered.

"Sure," she murmured. Her heart beat quickly. She didn't get angry when his hand lingered in her tresses a bit too long. She took a deep breath. Her skin was flushed.

He switched on the camera and the microphone. "Say something," he said.

"Um." She brushed her hair out of her face and nervously began, "Hi. I'm Christine. And this is really awkward. One, two, three. Ask not what your country can do for you. Uh."

Erik chuckled. "That is enough, I think. You sound delightful."

While she felt a little terrified, there was also something exhilarating about this process. As though this was where she should be. As though life had purposefully brought her to this moment. And it wasn't all a big traumatic mistake.

Erik cleared all of the furniture out of the space behind her, so that it was only her against a greyish wall. They had warmed up that morning, and she had sung her three pieces one last time. At least this wasn't live, so it wouldn't be the end of the world if she messed up a couple times. Her mouth felt dry.

"Are you nearly ready?" Erik asked. His voice was gentle.

She took a deep breath and nodded, licking her lips to moisten them.

"Begin when you wish."

She sang "Unchained Melody" first. She knew that one by heart. The song was like an old friend, and the delivery was easy. Singing it made her feel warm inside.

Then came the classical piece. It was a little less familiar. She probably felt the most detached from that one, but the aria showcased her voice in a specific way. A way that talent scouts might enjoy. Christine could now make the claim: I am a good singer!

Erik's piece still made her the most nervous. Curling her hands near her heart, she began that one a little more softly than she meant to. Erik make an upward motion with his hand, encouraging her to increase in volume. It took a few lines for her voice to grow into the song until she finally felt comfortable with it. Before she could stop them, tears were streaming down her cheeks. She stared up at the basement ceiling when she finished, tasting a saltiness on her tongue. Her voice sounded vulnerable yet strong.

Yet, even as she nearly mastered the song, Christine heard something in the lyrics that disturbed her subconscious. At that moment, she couldn't quite define it. Or maybe she didn't want to. Maybe the it was too familiar to her, a fresh wound. Maybe it was too horrible to contemplate.

Christine didn't want to look at Erik when she finished. She felt too emotional, almost embarrassed. Slowly, she did. Erik had already turned off the camera. He stared at her. "That was nearly perfect," he whispered. "Everyone will love you as I do. I do not know if I want them to. But they will. And you will only continue to improve."

Exhausted, Christine walked away from the microphone and took a seat on the sofa. She wiped the tears away. A minute ticked by before she could speak again. "What are you going to do with the tape?"

"That is the final surprise. Near sunset, I will leave for several hours to prepare everything. And then you will see. Everyone will see."

She asked, "But if this is going to make me more well-known, won't that make the world more dangerous for us?"

"If we go to a different country, no one will care."

He didn't sound very worried. Erik wanted this for her, no matter the consequences. When he went out that evening, she barely left the sofa, wondering what was coming next.

It was nearly nine when he returned. Erik had bought her a club sandwich, and she ate a quarter of it, too nervous to be hungry. After she finished, he said that it was time to leave for the final phase of the gift. She followed him out of the theater. The air was very cool now. Fortunately, she had changed out of the dress and into jeans and a jacket.

They had a fifteen minute drive. He parked near a multistory brick building that appeared abandoned. Erik must have seen her hesitation as she stared up at it. "No," he quickly said. "No, I will not do anything terrible to you in there. Not like last time. I promise you. You will like this. Do not be afraid." Christine warily nodded, stepped out of the car, and followed him up several flights of concrete stairs. Once they were near the top, she went with him to the other side and looked down through a dusty window. People walked below, both groups and couples. Christine realized they were near an area of the city that had a lot of the bars and nightlife.

"Are you ready?" Erik asked. She nodded. He had a small black device in his hand, and he pushed a button on it.

They waited, staring out the window. Her heart beat wildly in her chest. Her mouth popped open as the building wall across the street lit up. Suddenly, she saw a giant version of herself. A giant beautiful version of herself. Erik had projected her video onto the building. Her voice suddenly rang out into the night, so that she could even hear it through the glass. For being projected onto bricks, the image was shockingly clear, nearly like a movie on a screen.

"Oh my God," she whispered. Her face turned red. "Erik-"

"And not just here," said Erik. "Of course not. Throughout the entire city. Wherever many people gather. Everyone will see you everywhere. You are everywhere!"

"It's kind of…Um. Oh my."

"No, do not be embarrassed. Listen to yourself!"

She did. She sounded…really, really good.

People stopped walking below and turned to gape at the image. She realized it was a Saturday night, and everyone was out having fun. Now they were watching and murmuring to one another. She couldn't hear what they were saying. She knew that they were partly shocked because she was the 'kidnapped girl.' But that wasn't all. They could finally see her as something else, something more.

"Look," said Erik. She turned. On the laptop, he showed her every location where people could view her. City hall. The business district. Near a movie theater. Everyone had stopped to watch. There was some panic. People were probably calling 9-1-1. Sure enough, a couple of police cars arrived in two of the locations. No one knew what to do. It was chaos. Fun chaos. Erik had created something that was kind of fabulous.

Her voice rang into the night. People swayed to the first two songs, hypnotized. They nearly leaned forward when she sang the third song, as though trying to understand its meaning. Some people applauded at the end. Most of them only stared as though they had seen a ghost.

When the video ended, Christine felt almost giddy. Then - uncertain. What if they thought she was an awful singer? Maybe it didn't matter. At least she had tried. She had done her best. That was all she could ever do. At least she wasn't hiding away in the bedroom of her mother's cluttered house. Or hiding behind her wonderful boyfriend as she gave up her dreams of singing...

"That was your wedding gift," stated Erik, breaking into her thoughts. "Did you like it?"

"Yes," she replied, turning to him with a genuine smile. "Thank you. That was amazing!"

He studied her for a moment, appearing to want to say something meaningful. Finally, he turned away and said, "We can return to the theater now. The show is over. There will be authorities everywhere soon, looking for you."

She silently followed him out of the building and back to car. In the distance, she could hear voices –

"What the hell was that?"

"Is this all a publicity stunt?"

"She's kind of hot."

Erik heard that last one, and his head snapped up.

"It's all right," said Christine. "Maybe he meant that I was sweaty."

"I do not think he did, my dear. But, for you, I will not kill him. Only for you…"

The drive home was nearly silent, although she could feel Erik glancing at her. Her mind was wrapped up in her performance, wondering what everyone else thought, wondering if she had been good enough. When they got back to the theater basement, Erik showed her a few of the news reports online.

The comments from reporters were generally positive. - "Amazing voice. Beautiful girl. That last song was fascinating. What a unique piece of art. Who wrote it? What a strange spectacle. Where did she go? How did this happen?"

She laughed at it all. "That was amazing," she said. She twirled around. "That was so weird, but it was amazing. Thank you!" She felt a rush of adrenaline in her heart and stomach. And she also felt lighter than she had in some time. She felt more alive. Not like a depressed shell with a dead mother and father. Not directionless. Not like a victim.

She fell back onto his sofa, a grin on her face. "Everyone looked so shocked. And I sounded good! I actually sounded great! I never thought I could sound like that."

"Yes," he murmured. "Of course you did." Erik stood above her. She couldn't read his eyes.

"And they loved your song, too!"

"Yes."

"Anyway," she continued. "That was so cool."

Finally, he took a step toward her. "It is enough, yes?" he softly asked. "It is enough?"

"Enough for what?" she asked, blinking up at him. "It's wonderful. It's a wonderful gift! Thank you, Erik!"

"But it is enough, isn't it?" He didn't sound very happy. He sounded panicked.

"What do you mean? Enough for what? It's a great debut, if that's what you mean? I don't understand."

Her words weren't enough for him. "But you want to marry me now, yes? You want to now, right?"

She paused and slowly sat up. The feelings of joy faded away. "Erik, I've told you that I'll marry you. You don't have to worry about that."

He thrust his hands out at her. "But you want to now? You want to marry me!"

"I'll keep my promise to you. We'll be fine. What does this have to do with me singing?"

"But I want you to want to!" he nearly hollered. She leaned back, confused and a little terrified. "Look at me. Look me in the eye." She did so. He stared directly into her eyes. He moaned. She flinched. "It is still the same," he said, his voice collapsing. "When you look at me, it is all still the same. Why can't you love me? What do you want? Do you want money? Is that it? A mansion? Designer clothes? Jewelry? Vacations in the tropics? What do you want? What can I give you?"

"Erik, I don't understand what's wrong. I'm fine. Everything is fine." She put her hand against her forehead. Why was he losing his mind now? Everything had been great minutes ago.

"I want you to love me! Why won't you? What else can I give you?"

"Erik…"

"What do you want!?"

"Please! I can't…"

"What will it take, Christine? What do you want?!"

She squeezed her eyes closed as he unraveled, wishing that even she knew the answer to that question.

Yet, it wasn't a question. It was a demand.

And she realized that he now knew the horrid truth. He couldn't hide from it any longer, try as he might.

Erik could demand that she stay with him, go with him, marry him, and never leave his sight. He could force her to obey those demands using a variety of means.

Yet…he couldn't force her love him. No matter how much he threatened or bribed her, how loudly he screamed, he couldn't force love. That power would remain forever hers.

She had never wanted the power to destroy anyone. She had never asked for it. She hated it.

She hated that she could hurt someone so much.

She hated the agony in his eyes.

That was the night she kissed him.

And nearly killed him.