Hey everyone. I am very sorry this chapter took so long. I have had a cold from hell for about a week and a half and I found it very difficult to write when my head felt like it weighed 20 pounds. But I am feeling better now and plan to get back on schedule so don't worry about me having writer's block or anything.

A big thanks to all of the reviewers. It helped motivate me a lot to know you all were so worried. And once again three cheers for Juliana, who is the best beta in the world. Hope you all enjoy this chapter!

Chapter 37: Welcome to the Opera

Brielle slowly wrapped her hand around her impossible daughter's upper arm, pulling the child close to her side. She stared up at the stage from under her dark bangs, hiding the telling lightness of her eyebrows in their shade. The sharp eyed woman on the stage took several commanding steps forward, her oddly short black skirts swirling just below her knees with every graceful sway of her hips. Though the woman's face was as cool as stone, Brielle couldn't stop her eyes from dropping to the tiny dancer's feet tapping impatiently upon the stage floor. I remember wearing shoes like that…a long time ago.

"I said, what are you doing here?" demanded that calm voice once again with just a bit more impatience.

Gripping her bag and Aria tighter, Brielle lowered her gaze from the confident figure on the stage to the scuffed and muddy toes of her own boots. Her heart began to hammer within her chest, beating almost painfully within her ribs as she let out a controlled breath. She could almost feel the eyes of the dancers moving over her body, her skin burned from their glances. But somehow, more than anyone else, that one auburn haired woman made her acutely aware of the sticky film of filth covering her from head to toe and the ragged appearance of her gown.

How could just the sight of normal, clean people make her suddenly realize how low she had come? Less than a week ago she had been well fed, warm, and clothed with the finest velvets Europe had to offer. People had fawned over her, over every aspect of her happiness, bending over backwards to fulfill every one of her wishes. Her daughter had had everything a child could ever want, tutors, toys, lovely clothes. In a matter of a few days everything had changed. Now she was wandering the back streets of Paris, shivering with cold and hunger, hoping to God that she would be able to find something for her child to eat before night fell. It wasn't until that precise moment, as she stared fixedly at the floor, that the harsh reality of her circumstances began to settle fully over her tired brain. What have I done? What have I done? I have put both our lives in danger. I am a fool. I am the biggest fool in the world! How did this happen? How could it have gone so wrong? This isn't how my life was supposed to turn out!

A black fury at her own actions began to rise up the back of her throat, choking her and nearly bringing tears to her eyes. She felt lower than dirt and those who were staring at her now only further reminded her of what she had lost. Raising a self-conscious hand to cover the ragged black knots of the two stitches in her lip, Brielle cleared her throat. "Forgive us, Madame. We did not mean to interrupt," she replied through her fingers.

Though her words were softly spoken they rang clearly through the quiet theater, causing most of the dancers on the stage to stop the pretense of stretching and stare openly at her. A few nudged their friends intrigued by the foreign lilt to Brielle's French, but many more smirked to themselves, obviously amused by the Irish woman's appearance.

Unexpectedly, a loud whirring sound exploded over the hushed murmuring on the stage. Half a dozen of the ballerinas visibly jumped when one side of an old backdrop swung down from the rafters near the back of the stage, the ropes which were supposed to be holding it running over the pulleys so fast that finally one snagged and pulled the entire support system down with it. The dancers shrieked like banshees and scattered across the stage as the pile of cloth and rope collapsed to the floor with a bang.

"Madame! Madame! It is the Ghost! We knew he was here! He has always been here! This is proof!" screamed several high-strung girls almost in unison as they pointed to the darkness above their heads. "Those fools who thought he was only a man were wrong!"

Flinching at the deafening noise of the howling dancers, Brielle dropped her bag to the floor. She had hardly even blinked when the backdrop crashed to the floor, nothing seemed to surprise her anymore, she was numb inside, but the high pitched bellowing was straining to her ears. As chaos ensued onstage the Irishwoman regained her composure, steeling herself against the racket and frowning up at the hysterical dancers as they raced to and fro. Turning her head to glance down at her daughter, Brielle found the child silently staring up toward the rafters with her thumb tucked firmly in her mouth, calm as can be. Gently prying the child's hand free of her lips, the Irishwoman ruffled the little girl's hair. When she returned her attention to the stage she caught the dance instructor eyeing her thoughtfully, the annoyance in her gaze completely gone. Their eyes locked for the briefest of moments before the older woman turned to her dancers demanding silence.

There came a rush of air from the stage as the dance instructor released a great sigh, watching as the girls settled down to a more respectable volume. The auburn haired woman raised a hand to press against her temple as she slowly took in Brielle's and Aria's shabby and shivering forms. As the woman's eyes finally swept up from Brielle's toes to focus fixedly upon the Irishwoman's bruised face, a little more of the severity in her expression slipped away, she seemed to be considering something. The girls standing around her, all in their late teens, began to twitter once again over the odd intruder, all the while eyeing the pile of old cloth crumpled near the back of the stage. Having had enough of their silliness, the dance mistress turned and shot a baleful glance over her shoulder.

Silence quickly resumed as the woman waved a dismissive hand in their direction. "We might as well take a short break. Everyone go to the rehearsal room and sit down. And for goodness' sake, no one mention anything about ghosts or I will flay your hides."

As the girls filed off one side of the stage, every one of them turning curious eyes toward the dark haired woman and child standing in the sixth row, a few of the cattier dancers pulled rude faces behind their instructor's back. The girls didn't seem to want to go, as if they knew they were going to miss something. Evidently they knew something of their mistress's demeanor which brought a mean glow into their young eyes. Brielle caught the knowing glances that passed between them and quickly tensed every muscle in her body preparing herself for whatever the dance mistress had in mind. The worst she can do is throw us out. Though it is warm in here there isn't any reason for us to stay…so really no matter how terrible she is…nothing she says matters.

Raising her chin in defiance of what she knew was about to come, Brielle brought her eyes up from the floor to glare up at the stage and the single figure now standing alone in its center. "They seem mighty obedient for a bunch of teenagers. Why did you send them away? To make sure there weren't any witnesses when you dealt with the ragamuffins?" Brielle clipped, a touch of the bitterness and fury she felt inside leaking out into her tone.

"Don't you raise your voice to me," the woman calmly replied, completely unruffled by the sharpness in Brielle's voice. "My name is Madame Giry, I am the dance mistress here."

"I don't care who you are. We didn't do anything wrong. The doors were unlocked, and there was no one there to stop us. Can you blame a child for wandering in? There is no need to…"

"Be silent," Madame Giry stated, smoothly interrupting Brielle's sentence. Stepping up to the very edge of the stage, the dance mistress pursed her lips thoughtfully. "When that set fell a few minutes ago you didn't even flinch," she murmured, almost to herself, as she turned slightly and glanced up into the darkness over her head.

On the defensive, Brielle analyzed the odd woman's words for some sort of accusation. In the past few days she had learned to mistrust everything everyone said. The people of the world were liars and cheats; she knew that now. "So what? Theaters are strange places. Strange things are bound to happen. Nothing surprises me anymore." Bending to retrieve her bag from where she had dropped it on the floor, Brielle took hold of Aria's hand. "I apologize again for interrupting your practice, but we must be going now."

"They say this place is haunted." Madame Giry replied, her cool eyes watching Brielle carefully. "About a year ago a terrible accident happened here. Many people almost died. It was said that the Ghost did it because the managers ignored his demands."

Straightening slowly, Brielle shrugged off the woman's odd comment. I remember that. When I came here I remember people talking about the Ghost. "Why in the world would I care about some ignorant story about a ghost? Only fools make up such tales to assuage their fears. There are no such things as ghosts."

A small smile slowly flickered at the corners of Madame Giry's mouth. "Really…how interesting." Pulling out a small pocket watch, the French woman checked the time. "Behind the curtains it is hard to remain so logical. The belief in the Ghost was so strong last year that many of our staff ran off without notice after the accident. Even now we are barely staffed properly to hold practices."

"Then they are fools and deserve to starve on the streets for giving up a perfectly acceptable job over a superstition. I would kill for just about any job at this point and those idiots left theirs over some stupid ghost story!" Brielle snapped, infuriated by the thought of such lackadaisical attitudes. Turning from the stage she stomped off down the aisle, pulling Aria along behind her.

Before Brielle made it to the end of the aisle, the older French woman sprang off the edge of the stage and jumped to the floor beside the orchestra. Chasing after the retreating pair Madame Giry rushed across the distance to the sixth row. Blocking Brielle's path the auburn haired woman fisted her hands upon her hips. "I cannot let you leave. You…"

Alarmed by this turn of events Brielle interrupted the woman before she had finished. "You cannot hold us here. We did nothing wrong. I apologized for interrupting your lesson, but I will not subject myself to any further humiliation. Get out of my way!"

Frowning, Madame Giry rolled her eyes. "You have a terrible attitude, young lady. I do not appreciate your lip. Now shut your mouth because you are coming with me right now." Grabbing Brielle by the arm Madame Giry turned and set off toward a side door.

Surprised by this woman's audacity, Brielle was momentarily compliant as she was dragged along out of the theater and into a side corridor. Outrage quickly replaced surprise as Brielle began to pull against the grip on her arm. "What is wrong with you! Let go of me!" Feeling Aria pull on her arm, Brielle paused and looked down at her as the child trailed behind. Though the little girl didn't make a sound it was obvious from her expression she was becoming highly distressed. "You are upsetting my little girl! Let me go! We didn't do anything."

Glancing back at Aria, Madame Giry slowed her step. "I merely feel it is necessary for you to meet someone."

A spike of fear drove itself through Brielle's outrage. Who in the world would she want me to meet…unless someone has alerted the authorities! "There is no reason for that Madame, I am happy to be on my way! Forgive me for being so impertinent." Changing her tone suddenly to that of supplication, Brielle pulled harder against the hand upon her arm. She could not afford to be arrested for trespassing.

Coming to a sudden stop in front of a rather plain and unattractive little door Madame Giry impatiently snapped over her shoulder, "Oh do be quiet - no one is going to hurt you, you silly girl. Now keep still for one blessed moment or I will let you walk out the front door and back into the ruin of your current life." Turning her attention back to the door, the auburn haired woman lifted one hand and gave the unpolished wood a good rap. A shuffling sound issued from behind the door before it was slowly swung open, revealing a tiny stooped woman with iron gray hair and large spectacles on the end of her nose.

"What can I do for you? I thought you were in the middle of practice." the older woman asked, the wrinkles about her eyes deepening as she squinted first at Madame Giry, then at Brielle. "Who is that? Why do you have that young thing captured?"

Finally releasing Brielle's arm, Madame Giry smiled at the older woman. "Kate, I have good news. I have found you a new staff member." Stepping to the side, Madame Giry nudged Brielle forward into the stooped woman's direct line of vision.

Staggered by what she had just heard Brielle's mouth dropped open. "Wh-what did you just say!"

Ignoring the sputtering Irishwoman, Madame Giry once again addressed Kate. "I swear it must have been a godsend. She just walked in off the streets."

Shaking her head Kate began to frown up at Brielle. "Then how do you know she has any qualifications? She looks very young. I will not put up with a useless young girl. That and just look at the state of her. She looks no better than a common guttersnipe and smells even worse." When Brielle started under the criticism Kate grimly shook her gray head, pushing her glasses up her nose. Taking a step forward, the ancient lady reached out and pinched the Irish woman's arm. "And look at that. Skinny as a rail - looks like a strong wind could carry her away. No, Antoinette, I don't think she will do. I need someone strong - the work is not easy." Moving back to shut the door in their faces, the old woman dismissed them.

Watching this exchange in stunned silence Brielle opened her mouth to interject, but Madame Giry waved an impatient hand in her face, silencing her. Crossing her arms smugly the auburn haired woman waited until the door had nearly closed before she spoke again. "She says she doesn't believe in ghosts, Kate."

There was a quiet moment when the door halted its progress an inch from shutting before it swung open and slammed against the inner wall. "Did she now?" the gray haired woman demanded marching out into the hallway, new interest lighting her features as she looked Brielle over once again. "Well that is all well and good, but I had two girls leave this week because the lights kept going on and off in their rooms."

Brielle, feeling as if something good might for once be within her reach, finally opened her mouth. "What a silly reason for leaving a perfectly good job. Gas lights go out all the time." Pausing there she shifted her grip upon the bag in her hands and glanced down at Aria. The child seemed extremely interested in the conversation happening over her dark hand. "But may I ask exactly what you two are talking about?"

Pursing her lips Kate turned her eagle bright green eyes toward Brielle, squaring off against the young woman, her hands upon her hips. "I am Kate Dubois. I run the cleaning crews of the opera. Unfortunately I have been having trouble keeping the staff on the job. Do you know anything about housekeeping, cleaning, and polishing - that sort of thing?"

Mentally Brielle grimaced at the very thought of domestic work, she had always been terrible at it, but outwardly her pale face remained impassive. A lie formed within her head, dripping from her lips before she had even consciously planned it. "Of course, what woman doesn't know the ins and outs of keeping things clean? I know I don't look it, but I am a hard worker. I would gladly take any position you would find fitting."

"I don't know. I don't like the idea of hiring foreigners," Madame Dubois grumbled as she glared tight-lipped at the Irish woman, an unconvinced glint flickering in her eyes. At that precise moment Aria stepped out from behind her mother's skirts. Hopping forward a step, the child scooted up close to the crotchety woman's side. When Kate glanced down at Aria's dark head the child's sober face cracked into a wide grin, her dimples flashing adorably in the dim light. Taken aback slightly by the child's forward behavior, Madame Dubois merely frowned down at the smiling girl.

"What does she want?" she asked Brielle sharply, looking distinctly uncomfortable under Aria's attention.

Equally mystified by her daughter's behavior, Brielle shrugged her shoulders slightly. Somehow she felt that the things she said in the next few moments would either secure them a place to stay or condemn them back out onto the streets. She couldn't allow the latter to happen. "I don't know. Normally she is very shy around strangers. Perhaps she just likes you."

Madame Dubois gave a great snort at that, puffing up slightly as if she was certain that couldn't possibly be true, she didn't seem the type of person many people would like. But as Aria twirled a finger in her dark hair and continued to smile up at the ancient lady, Kate's fierce frown began to soften. "Well, what a strange little girl. Smiling at strangers like that," she said vaguely, all the bite in her voice having disappeared.

Reaching out a knotted hand, roughened by years of hard work, Kate patted Aria on the head awkwardly. "But she does have the loveliest eyes, like a spring fog." Still gazing down at Aria's charming grin, Madame Dubois began to smile herself. "I suppose I could use some temporary help until I find more suitable workers." Turning her attention to Brielle suddenly, she once again frowned at the Irish woman. "But don't get too comfortable. I will most likely fire you by the end of the week."

Nodding in understanding, Brielle fought to keep her features blank as her insides churned with relief. "I understand."

Sniffing at her answer, Madame Dubois crossed her arms over her chest. "See that you do understand. Now be off with you, you start work tomorrow night. And for God's sake take a bath before then. You smell like you have been rolling about in garbage." Turning her sharp eyes back to Madame Giry who had been standing in the background until now, Kate pointed one age spotted finger her way. "I would thank you for bringing me an extra pair of hands, but most likely this one will turn out to be useless."

Her eyes smiling secretly behind a bland expression, Madame Giry merely nodded her head. "I will show them where the cleaning staff lives, as well as the kitchens. It is on the way and I have plenty of time. The girls are on break."

Waving her hand imperiously, Madame Dubois dismissed Madame Giry as if she were a common worker rather than the dance mistress. "Yes, yes. Whatever you like, as long as you show them where to wash up while you are at it." Turning then, Kate swept back into her room and shut the door in their faces.

Leaning down to take Aria's hand in her own, Brielle turned to Madame Giry, surprised to find the woman completely unflustered by Kate's rude behavior. Without missing a beat the auburn haired woman turned and set off down the hallway. "She takes some getting used to," she called over her shoulder. "Don't be bothered by her waspish behavior. She is like that to everyone. Just don't rile her and you will fit in just fine."

"That is good to hear," Brielle mumbled as she scanned the dark backstage area they were currently passing through. She had never been in this section of the Opera before. It was like a maze. The hanging ropes and old set pieces were disorienting. Suddenly Brielle could understand why the legend of a ghost could take hold back here, for some reason she had the distinct feeling that she was being watched.

"Keep up. We wouldn't want you to get lost on your first day here. The opera can be a bit confusing at times, but you will get used to it. Come with me and I will show you the dormitories and the kitchens."

Nodding vaguely, Brielle glanced up into the web of hanging ropes and pulleys behind her. A flash of movement caught her attention from the corner of her eye. Turning her head she frowned into the darkness, her gray eyes finding nothing out of the ordinary. Don't let your imagination get away with you. Just because it is creepy here doesn't mean there is anything out of the ordinary. Keep your eyes ahead…don't look back…don't look to the side…don't think of anything but keeping your place here for as long as possible. It is our only chance.

And with that Brielle shrugged off the feeling of eyes upon her back, following Madame Giry with her gaze focused strictly ahead. Feh…ghost my arse…

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Half an Hour Earlier

Erik sat absently staring down at the stage directly below his feet, a rope held tightly in one hand. He rested his chin lightly upon one of the handrails of his favorite catwalk as his eyes brushed over the young dancers practicing onstage. It had become an annoying habit for him to visit this spot on a daily basis. Solitude no longer held the appeal it once had. Something inside of him, something new, rebelled against the loneliness of his former home deep in the Opera's cellars. It was like an addiction, this new reliance on human contact, an addiction he didn't have the will to break.

He smiled grimly in the darkness above the stage and readjusted his grip upon the rope in his hand. It was always a laugh to jingle a few backdrops during practice to rile the girls up. Playing games with the staff was one of the few pleasures left to him. Of course, he tried to refrain from scaring them too much, the poor things, especially since it gave Madame Giry such a hard time.

A disturbance below him brought him out of his musings with a start. Someone had interrupted the dance practice and though these girls were just the understudies for the prima ballerinas he was sure Antoinette would be furious. As he cocked his head to the side to better hear the conversation from below, Erik noted a sharpness creep into his old friend's tone. Oh yes…definitely annoyed. You would think people would know by now not to interrupt her while she is…

"Forgive us Madame. We did not mean to interrupt," came a muffled reply to one of Madame Giry's questions.

Jerking bolt upright, Erik could feel all of the color drain from his face. That voice…that voice…it sounds almost like…The rope in his hand quickly slipped through his suddenly numb fingers, sending the entire backdrop crashing to the floor. Starting at the sound, he cursed viciously under his breath. He hadn't meant for the whole blasted thing to go crashing down.

Listening intensely to the chaos ensuing under his feet, Erik strained his ears for one particular voice within the crowd. Only a few moments passed but it felt like a lifetime as he waited. Then that song-like lilting voice cut through the unending murmuring of the dancers. The woman only said a few sentences, but he was sure he knew who belonged to that haunting voice.

I have to make sure…but I can't see into the auditorium from here…I have to make sure! Jumping to his feet Erik raced quietly over the catwalks, moving with the predatory grace of a panther. Flickering in between shadows he cautiously avoided the crew members taking a break two levels below him. Their presence continued to hinder his progress until he managed to skirt the small group and reach a direct line to the floor. Anxiety caused his hands to tremble as they latched onto the rope hanging before his face. Calm down…just calm down. Jumping out into the darkness, with only the rope to hold his weight, he made short work of getting to ground level. Sliding down the single line, his hands protected by black leather gloves, the masked man's feet thumped to the floor within seconds.

He had barely taken two steps before the sound of half a dozen feet clomping his way reached his ears just in time for him to duck behind a curtain as a section of the dance troupe walked by. Evidently Madame Giry had given the girls a break. Good, fewer people around to see me…Impatiently he waited for the girls to walk by him, every passing second a torture in and of itself.

Moving stealthily towards a hidden place behind a changing screen, Erik glanced out into the theater only to find the place completely empty. In his annoyance he nearly upended the screen as he gave it a good shake. Damn it! Turning violently around he raced further into the backstage area. He had to find them before Antoinette threw the woman out. Not knowing for sure was quickly driving him mad. With every second that passed the panic took a greater hold over his senses.

As he dodged around repair equipment and old set pieces, Erik mentally tried to talk himself out of the misery slowly clogging his airways. It couldn't possibly be her. It simply is not possible. She is supposed to be getting married. I read the announcement in the newspapers.

Sliding to a halt near the cleaning mistress's room, Erik plastered himself to the wall. Eavesdropping the masked man listened intently to the conversation just around the corner from his current position. Evidently Madame Giry was not throwing the mystery woman out. By God, she is offering her a job! Quickly glancing around the corner Erik caught sight of Antoinette discussing something with that crotchety woman Kate Dubois. Off to one side stood a slim, raggedy woman with long black hair and a young child clutching at her skirts. Thank God…it isn't her…it doesn't look like her. This woman has dark hair…it can't be her. But then the woman spoke again and all of his tenuous certainties flew out the window.

Slinking back behind the corner Erik waited until Madame Giry led the dark haired woman off to the dormitories. Following at a distance he fought to get in front of them. He had to see the woman's face, he had to! The young woman stopped suddenly and turned toward his hiding place. Ducking back into the shadows, Erik watched silently as she searched the darkness behind her.

Recognition was instantaneous and staggering, though her face was partially obscured in the dim light Erik knew her as surely as if they had been standing face to face. All the air left him as he stared disbelieving at Brielle's familiar features. Slowly he slid to the floor as his legs gave out from under him, his eyes never leaving that beautiful face. Brielle turned away from him then and went on her way, but her face, her voice remained in his head. In one sweeping moment all the pain and betrayal of those days after he left came rolling back.

Why is she here? WHY, WHY? Why can't she leave me be? Why can't I just live the rest of my life in peace? Just as quickly as the agony had pressed in around him the anger took its place, protecting his heart behind a burning shield of fury. How dare she come here…here of all places!

Slowly climbing to his feet, his entire body trembling in rage, Erik blindly pushed away what pain, what affection, remained in his heart. As far as he was concerned he had never known her. As far as he was concerned she was just another lying witch. But a question still remained in the back of his mind, pressing forward to be addressed. Why has she come here? By the state of her dress it doesn't appear as if it has been awhile since her doting lord has taken care of her. A nasty spike of glee flickered through his body at the thought of her meeting misfortune, a thousand horrible scenarios played out within his head as he stared off into the darkness. Perhaps the young lord finally saw her for what she is. I could almost pity the man. No doubt she found someone else to throw her affections at whilst under his care. He must have thrown her out for it. She was just like Christine, a liar. But this time it was different. This time he didn't have to put up with the agony. This time he could give just as much as he took.

A dark smile slowly flickered across his features, his breath sawing in and out of his lungs as if he had run a mile. Brielle will pay for coming here. If she doesn't believe in ghosts now then by God she will! I will make sure of that!