Annabelle was walking past her parents' room but froze when she heard her father say her name. It seemed that he wasn't entirely happy that she had started flirting with a boy she had met the night of the New Year's ball. She didn't usually eavesdrop, but she found herself drawn to the door to see what in particular had him so worried. "She's going to get herself into trouble."

"She's a teenage girl," her mother replied. "It's normal for her to express an interest in boys at this age. The only reason I didn't was because of you."

"That didn't seem to stop you when Raoul arrived." Annabelle was stunned by the bitterness in her father's voice. And the name Raoul was familiar; Gus had mentioned he had stayed with a man named Raoul when he was in France

"It's not my fault you didn't express any romantic feelings towards me until after he did."

"And then…"

Her mother cut him off. "And then Erik, you caused all that trouble at the opera house. And when I realized that despite everything I wanted to be with you, you left."

"Do you honestly believe I don't think about that every waking moment? That every time I see her I don't wish she was my daughter instead of his?" Annabelle's hand flew to her mouth and she felt dizzy. How could she not be her father's daughter? She stumbled backwards away from the door, but tripped over her feet in the process, hitting the ground with a loud thud. "What was that?"

She scrambled to her feet and ran down the hallway as the door opened. "Annabelle?" her mother called. But instead of stopping, she ran into her bedroom, grabbed the music box Gus had given her for Christmas, took the key inside, and ran downstairs and out the door, refusing to stop, even though she could hear her parents begging her to.


Gus never wanted to move. He was so content here with Vivian snuggled up next to him that the thought of her needing to return home in a few days hurt. Her skin was soft and her hair smelled like her favorite perfume, and it felt like they were the only two in the world.

The peace was suddenly interrupted by what sounded like a key turning in the front door. They both shot up and looked at each other. "Who is that?" Vivian asked.

He leaped out of bed and haphazardly dressed. "Stay here." Gus cracked open the bedroom door just wide enough to slip out, but not even for whoever was in the apartment to see Vivian. Gus was surprised to see a sobbing Annabelle. When she saw him, she hugged him tightly sobbing into his chest. "What happened?"

"Did you know?" she demanded through her tears.

"Know what?"

Annabelle didn't answer beyond sobbing even harder. The bedroom door opened behind him and Gus was momentarily grateful that Annabelle was in no shape to realize how disheveled their clothes were or notice that they had both come from the bedroom. But when he looked over his shoulder at Vivian, Gus saw the betrayal in her eyes and he realized she was completely misunderstanding the situation. "I thought you said…" she began accusingly.

"Viv, please, I can explain. It's not what you think."

Her eyes welled up with tears. "I can't believe you. You lied to me and then you used me."

"No, Viv, I…"

"Go to hell," she whispered before running out of the apartment.

He shoved Annabelle aside and followed Vivian as far as the door. "Wait! I can explain!" Vivian disappeared down the stairs, and on any other day, Gus would follow her, but something wouldn't let him leave his sister when she was so distraught. He stared in the direction that Vivian had gone before glancing back at the apartment, where Annabelle was still sobbing. If he stood a chance at reconciling with Vivian, he was going to have to come clean with everything. But he was going to have to find her and explain later; something was drastically wrong with his sister.

Gus walked back into the apartment and found Annabelle in a crumpled heap on the floor from when he had pushed her. "What happened?" he asked as he knelt beside her.

"Why didn't you tell me I was a bastard!" she sobbed.

"Who the hell told you that?"

"I overheard Mother talking to Papa and he said I wasn't his daughter!"

"And what did they tell you when they realized you heard?"

Annabelle shook her head. "I didn't know what to do. I just ran."

He hated his parents for doing this to Annabelle and for it having to be today when Vivian was in the apartment. This was going to force his hand and make him do the one thing he didn't want to: tell Vivian who his family was, and he was going to have to tell Annabelle about hers. "I shouldn't be the one telling you any of this," he sighed. "I don't have the full story."

"So you did know that I'm a bastard!"

"You're not," Gus shot back. "I am."

That got her attention. Her head shot up and she stared at him with watery eyes. "I…I don't understand. Papa said I wasn't his daughter."

"Your birth father's name was Raoul de Chagny. He was my step-father. You're not a bastard because your father was Mother's husband."

"That doesn't make any sense!"

"I don't know everything, but I'll tell you what I do know from what Raoul told me. Back in France, Mother was engaged to a childhood sweetheart, a Vicomte, your father. Her music teacher, my father, also loved her and the two fought for her affections. Eventually she married Raoul, but at some point, she had an affair, which resulted in me. From what I know, he eventually went to New York. I met him when I was ten when we went to New York for Mother to perform. She was shot, Raoul took me back to France, and I didn't know I had a sister until I arrived here and was reunited with them. Mother told me that she had been pregnant with you when she was shot."

Annabelle was silent for a very long time, and when she did speak, her voice was barely audible. "You once mentioned he died. So I can't meet him ever." Gus reluctantly nodded. "What was he like?"

There was no point in breaking her heart further. Annabelle was already lost and confused and trying to figure out who she really was now that her world was shattered. Gus also knew he couldn't lie to her because the truth had a nasty habit of rearing its ugly head. "Things weren't always great. I'm not sure if it was because he suspected the truth, but he and Mother didn't always get along. After New York though, he was a totally different person. He was the one who gave me my violin. He sent me to a boarding school when he realized how lonely I was, and he hired a private tutor for me after I got expelled for fighting. He tried to give me a normal life and a decent education."

"Tried?"

Gus gave a humorless chuckle. "I was a horribly ungrateful child. I was too young at the time to recognize that he was trying to be helpful in his own way. I ran away because I thought he was trying to get rid of me."

"But why would Mother marry him if she loved Papa?"

He sighed. "I once asked Raoul that same question."

"And?"

"You'll have to ask her. I'm afraid I've told you everything I know."

"Do you honestly think she'll tell me?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. But she owes you an explanation." His thoughts drifted to his fiancée. "And I owe one to Viv."

"What happened between you two? I've never seen her like that."

Gus sighed. "She heard some gossip that I was..." There was no point in telling Annabelle. It would only mortify her, and she was already so upset. He didn't want her to blame herself. "Well that I wasn't faithful. Your arrival was very poorly timed, but you couldn't have known."

Annabelle wiped her eyes. "You should go be with her. I don't want to ruin things for you."

He looked longingly towards the door. "I don't want to leave you alone, after you went through so much."

"Go. It sounds like she needs you. And I think I want to talk to Mother. I need more answers."

"You're growing up," Gus said with a sad smile. "Maybe too fast."

"I hope I haven't ruined everything for you."

Gus shook his head. "If I've lost her, it'll be my own fault. Richard warned me that keeping secrets would be bad idea, and I wouldn't listen."

"She loves you, and you haven't done what she thinks you have. I'm sure she'll forgive you."

"Annabelle, I'm not so sure it's that easy," he replied. He remembered Vivian's face when she found out that her uncle worked with the Phantom of the Opera, and he couldn't bear the thought of her looking at him like that. But at this point, he had no other choice but to tell her.

"But what other choice do you have?"

He sighed. "I know. I'm going to go talk to her. I can walk you home if you want since Richard's is that direction. If you're ready, that is. You can stay here if you're not."

She shook her head. "No, I need answers."

"Then I guess we should stop putting off the inevitable." He opened the door and held it for her. "Shall we?"


Annabelle sat on her bed, her head in her hands as she tried to process her mother's story, of how she had fallen in love with her music teacher despite being engaged to another man. How she had an affair with the man she loved and wanted to run away with him, but how he had left her, thinking her fiancé could give her a better life. How they were reunited ten years later halfway across the world in New York. How she had been shot by someone she had once considered her closest friend, and how her husband had taken her son, the result of her affair, back to France before it was known if she would live or die. How her husband left her for dead, never knowing she was pregnant. As far as she could tell, her mother's story matched Gus', which forced her to believe it, as much as she didn't want to.

"Chérie?" She turned and saw the man she thought was her father standing in the doorway. His eyes were soft, but for the first time that she could remember, he seemed hesitant to come any closer.

"How can you even bear to look at me?" Annabelle demanded, turning away from him. Tears welled up in her eyes again. "Shouldn't you hate me? Why don't you hate me? What is wrong with you?"

The mattress shifted as he sat beside her. She hugged him tightly and sobbed into his chest. "Believe it or not Chérie, when you were first born, the two of us did not get along," he said as he rubbed her back. "We had just been told that Gustave was dead, and I was angry and bitter. I was regretting all of my life choices and you were a constant reminder of everything I had done wrong."

"You're lying!"

"No, I'm afraid not. But it all changed one night; you weren't quite two. You had just learned to walk and wandered into my study late one night. I didn't have my mask on, and it was the first time you had ever seen me without it. You started screaming for your mother, and I was certain that you were never going to come near me again. But you were utterly convinced that I was hurt, and you were trying to get somebody to help me. Nobody had ever reacted like that before. Even your mother could barely look at me the first time she saw my face, your brother ran from me screaming, but you, you wanted to come to me. It was that moment you became my little girl, and I've never once regretted that decision. Ever." Annabelle couldn't muster enough words for a response, but he didn't seem like he minded, so she let him hold her and rub her back, just like he used to when she was a child.


"What the hell have you done?" Richard demanded when he opened the door. "She came home in tears and has been sobbing in her room since. We can't get a word out of her."

"There's been a misunderstanding. She thinks I'm sleeping with Annabelle."

"She thinks you and Annabelle are…? Jesus Christ, Gus, I told you something would go wrong if you kept secrets!"

"You were right. Is that what you want to hear?" Gus snapped back. "Fine. You were right, I was wrong! Let me talk to her, I'll tell her everything right now."

"It might be too late for that."

"I know!" Gus all but shouted. He took a deep breath, trying to keep his cool. "Please Richard. I have to try. I can't lose her."

He sighed and waved his hands towards the staircase. "Second bedroom on the right."

Gus took the stairs two at a time and knocked on the door Richard had directed. When he didn't get an answer but heard Vivian sobbing inside, he opened the door slowly. "Viv?"

"Get out!" she screamed, throwing a pillow at him. Gus caught it and walked into the room anyway, setting the pillow next to the bed. When he got close enough, she slapped him hard across the face. He saw her hand coming but made no attempt to stop the blow. "I never want to see you again!"

"Viv, please, I can explain," he pleaded. "Just give me two minutes."

"You get thirty seconds."

It was better than nothing. He was just going to have to make his time count. "Do you remember when we were younger and talked about getting famous together? Vivian Barnes and Gus Chaney? And I told you Gus Chaney wasn't my real name, but it didn't matter what it really was? I lied. It does. My real name is Gustave…" He took a deep breath. "Gustave de Chagny." Vivian's eyes widened in recognition. "I'm not sleeping with Annabelle. She's my little sister."