1916

LARA

I arrived at the house to find myself hesitating to knock at the door as my mind tried to figure out if there was a point in going in at all. I had been going over almost every day after school for the past few weeks intending to talk to Gustave's father. Though every time I tried, he was locked away in his study; I hadn't been able to get in more than a few words with him. Gustave told me that he could be a very stubborn man, but I didn't know how to begin. He and I seemed to be okay when Gustave was here, but ever since he left, it was almost like he wanted nothing to do with me. However, something I don't think he accounted for is that I could be just as stubborn. So, with my somewhat shaky hand, I knocked on the door, but my heart sank a little when Mr. Khan answered instead of who I had wanted to see.

"Good afternoon, Lara." He seemed tired and almost worn out, as there were noticeable bags under his eyes. My mind immediately filled with possibilities of what might be happening at the house.

"Hello. Is Erik here?" To ask a question I already knew the answer to seemed to be the only way to keep things going in terms of conversation. I knew that Erik hadn't left his home since Gustave left, but the question still came from a place of hope. With a deep sigh from Mr. Khan, I had my answer.

"Please come in, I was just fixing up something to eat." He gestured for me to step inside and I followed him to the kitchen without a word. "Would you like anything?"

"No, thank you," I replied with a small smile as I took a seat at the table. Then it hit me - Mr. Khan and Erik had been friends for years. He had to have an idea about how I could get through to him. "There is something I would like your help with."

He barely looked up from his plate of food before replying, "And what would that be?"

"I have been wanting to get to know Gustave's father in his absence and it just seems like he wants nothing to do with me. Do you have any ideas as to how I could get through to him? You know him best."

He seemed shocked at my question at first like he had just been told a deep secret. He then left his plate at the counter and joined me at the kitchen table. "Well dear, Erik is a very complex person. He has seen a lot in his life and has had to go through unspeakable things. A lot of them are not my stories to tell. Before I continue, though, I need to know how much you already know about him and Gustave's mother."

"Gustave told me how my uncle and his mother were married and how Gustave rightfully holds him responsible for his mother's death." There was a sense of anxiety building up inside of me, I noticed. I was trying to prepare myself for what I would hear but I had no idea what to expect.

There was a small chuckle from Mr. Khan before he said, "Well then, he did give you the bare minimum of the story." There was a slight pause before he continued: "Well, I suppose I should start at the beginning. I am sure you know of the great opera house in Paris, the one that fell victim to a terrible fire."

"I heard there were rumours of a ghost there, but I know it must have been superstition." I was trying to recall what I had read about the opera house when I had been going through my father's papers, as it seemed that my family had been somewhat of a sponsor for that theatre.

"Lara, there was a ghost. He called himself 'The Phantom of the Opera' and he was very real…you have met him."

It took me a moment to put the pieces together, and once I had, I could not easily hide the shock on my face. "Are you telling me what I think you are?"

"You are a smart girl, and yes, Erik was that fabled ghost. He had been living in the catacombs under the opera house for years before he met Christine." There was a long pause and he seemed to be getting his thoughts back in order so he could continue: "She was only a chorus girl at the time, but when Erik heard her sing, he was convinced he had found an angel on earth. He began giving her lessons so that she could one day have a solo career. Though every time he was with her, he was slowly falling more and more in love with her. It wasn't until your uncle and father arrived that Erik truly felt threatened. He became jealous and went to rather extreme lengths to try and keep Christine in his life. Though she did admit to loving him, Erik still let her leave with Raoul, since he knew that he could not provide her with the life she deserved. She returned to him for a night but Erik knew that if she stayed with him, she would be hunted down with him. He couldn't bear to do that to her so he left before she woke up, and that morning he set sail for America."

He stopped the story then; I suppose he had noticed that I needed a moment to process everything I was hearing. Erik must have been heartbroken...I could not imagine what he had experienced at that moment. "So that is when she married my uncle and then Gustave was born."

He nodded at me and took my comment as a sign to continue the story: "Erik regrets leaving that night more than any other thing he has done in his life, and believe me, there is a long list. In America, he designed a carnival of sorts to generate his income. Ten years passed and he just could not take it anymore - he needed to see her again. So he invited her to perform and she came, bringing Raoul and Gustave with her. Briefly, after their reunion, Christine admitted that Gustave was his child and not Raoul's. Now, he hasn't told me all the details, but the night Christine performed the aria that Erik wrote for her, your uncle boarded a boat alone intending to leave Gustave and Christine on Coney Island. That same night, Christine was shot. Erik had made her a promise that he would always keep Gustave safe, so when he got called to war, something in him...snapped. He went back to how he lived before Gustave entered his life."

I was utterly taken aback by what I had just heard. No wonder Gustave never told me all of this. His exploding the night he met my parents began to make more and more sense. I needed to know more, I needed to understand how to get through to him. To make him see that he didn't need to go backwards. "How did he live before?" I inquired.

"Well, that's just it. He didn't live."

"What do you mean?" I felt I could see the puzzle pieces floating around me, but I just couldn't find out how they fit together.

He took a deep breath, collected himself and explained, "Erik has lived most of his life in isolation. He believes he does better that way, and he is stubborn about it. He can live in his fantasy that he is fine all he wants, but he sees no need to look after himself when he gets like this. He won't eat or sleep, he just works. Working would be great but it is not work for the business. He will pick up any flight of fancy that pops into his head and run with it until the next one comes along. Gustave was the one who made him focus. Erik having a son may have saved his life. When he and I reunite here, I almost didn't recognize him."

"What is he doing right now?" I was formulating a plan to go up and talk to him but I did not want to interrupt him if he was being productive.

Mr. Khan paused for a moment and looked confused. "It's silent. The record isn't playing. I don't know what he is doing. I should probably go check on him," he said as he started to stand up out of his chair.

"Please, you sit and eat," I said as I sat a hand on his shoulder. "It looks like you need a break. I'll try and go talk to him."

He nodded to me and I took it as a sign of thanks. "Good luck dear. Remember to be persistent, it's the only way to get through to him sometimes."

"Thank you for telling me."

He let out a small laugh. "It's not like either of those two boys was going to tell you." We both laughed at that and I made my way upstairs.

I knew where the study was, but when I reached the top of the stairs, the only thing I felt was lost. I felt like I was intruding on his life. I had no right to know the things that I knew. All I was was his son's sweetheart, I didn't deserve this information. What difference did it make to him whether he got to know me or not? He did not want to see me; otherwise, he would have acknowledged me, wouldn't he? He would have met me for tea as we planned at the train station. He would have sat with me when I was here all these times. This was a mistake, I was overstepping my boundaries. Mother always told me that my persistence was going to get me into undesirable locations, that my curiosity was not going to get me to where I needed to be. She was right. I needed to remember where I stand in this world.

I was about to go downstairs when I heard a loud thud and some cursing come from behind the door to the study. My feet worked faster than my brain, and the next thing I knew, I was inside the study looking at Erik, who was kneeling in front of a record player.

"No, no, no, please. Not now, please…" I don't think he realized I had entered the room because he was still lost in his thoughts, clutching the record for dear life. "Please Christine, I can't lose you again. Not now…I can't lose both of you."

I gathered that this was what Mr. Khan had been talking about when he said that the record wasn't playing. I wondered what could have been on this record that would make him talk to her. However, I did notice that he was holding the record at the edges, and given that his knuckles were white, he was going to cut himself if he didn't let go. Trying to make as little noise as possible, I knelt beside him and placed my hand on top of the record. The initial shock of my presence caused him to seize up and grip it tighter, but after that subsided, he loosened up and I was able to take it away from him and set it beside us. I was able to get a look at his hands and thankfully, they didn't seem to be cut. I turned my head again to look at his face and saw that he still had his mask on. It was surprising to see that, even in such a state of emotional turmoil, he would still wear it. Though I did notice that his hair was different - it was patchy and lighter.

We sat there for what felt like a long time before either of us spoke. One of us needed to say something and something in my gut told me that it would not be him.

"I know," I managed to say, finally breaking the hard silence. He stopped breathing as heavily and looked up at me. He still didn't say a word but his expression told me he was confused. I concluded that I should probably keep going if I wanted to be able to have a conversation: "I know the story of an opera house in Paris, and the story of a carnival owner in America."

He seemed to understand what I had meant by that, yet still, he said nothing. So I kept going, thinking that eventually, he would have to say something: "I am beginning to understand how much he means to you, and I think I know him well enough to know that he would hate to see you like this."

"He means everything to me. I know he would hate to see me like this, I just don't know how else I can be. I suppose that once you have everything you have ever wanted, just for it to be taken from you, it hurts more than if you never had it at all," he finally admitted. He still wasn't looking me in the eyes but kept his eyes glued to his hands.

Something about that mask was making it feel like we could not have a face to face conversation, and I knew what I had to do. Slowly I raised my hands to his face, but I had barely touched the plaster of his mask when he shrank away from me.

"It's alright. I am not afraid," I assured him before I continued. Gently, I reached the bottom of the mask and lifted it from his head. Once it was off, I set it down next to the record. It was only then that his fixation on the record began to make sense. The label had her name - Christine Daae. I realized that he had been trying to hear her again.

After placing the mask down, I turned back to see him covering his face with his hand. "I need to be sure that you are prepared for what you are about to see," he said quietly. His hand was shaking over his face and he so obviously didn't believe me when I said that I was not afraid. It was evident that words were not going to get through to him, so I decided to use actions instead. I placed my hand over his, noticing that the size comparison was almost laughable. He resisted for a moment but eventually, I was allowed to remove his hand and finally see his full face.

I was shocked for a moment but quickly realized that I truly was not afraid of him. There was nothing for me to be scared of. I knew enough about him to know that he would not hurt me. As I looked at him, I realized something and a large smile spread across my face. He seemed flabbergasted at my expression, so I thought I should probably explain myself: "I'm still not afraid. But now the crookedness of Gustave's face makes more sense."

Tears were welling up in his eyes and I saw that I must have struck a deep nerve in him. As a sign of assurance, I leaned over and kissed the distorted side of his face. That was when the tears broke through their wall and started to fall down his face. I pulled him in for a hug, which turned out to be something we both needed.

"It's okay to miss him. I miss him too. But he has never broken a promise, and he promised he was going to come home. But he will want to come home and see that you were okay when he was gone," I whispered to him while we sat there. It felt good to finally be with someone who understood. Mother and Father had tried, but they simply were not as close to Gustave. It was good to feel like I could be open about this with Erik because he not only understood my pain; he was living through it as well.

"You'd think I would be used to being alone. I have been for most of my life… but voluntarily and involuntarily. Those are two different things. I suppose I got so used to having him here that it has become so hard trying to imagine that there is any other way for me to live." He and I were still hugging each other and I could feel his grip tightening on my back as he spoke. He was choking up to the point where I was surprised at his restraint. "The only way I could navigate that feeling was by going back in time, in a sense. I went back to before Gustave and Christine were in my life because I knew what to do then. Things were in my control. Now, something as important as his survival is out of my hands and I don't know what to do. I've never lived in such a state of uncertainty."

"I cannot imagine what that must be like. For things to be so inconsistent." I wasn't sure what to say. What do you say to someone who has gone through all of what he has? Oh, how I wish I knew. I wish I had a way to comfort him beyond empty words that he had probably heard a thousand times in the past while. An idea came to me then, but I decided it was best if I was looking at him in the eyes when I told him, so I pulled away from our embrace and smiled at him. "But maybe we can be a consistent factor for each other now."

Instantly, confusion spread across his face. "What do you mean?" he asked.

"Well, maybe we can rely on each other to be consistent in our lives. We can lean on each other in a way." I was trying to explain my idea, but I realized that I probably should have thought of a proper explanation before I said it out loud. "We can do that with certainty because something I can promise you is that I am not going anywhere."

He didn't say anything, which had me quite worried. I thought maybe I had overstepped my boundaries, that I mistook our current interaction for more than it was. Though after a few minutes of agonizing anxiety, I got a reaction: without a word, he hugged me again. I know for a fact that if my mother were there, she would deem that to be very inappropriate but I didn't care in the slightest. At that moment, I felt a sense of accomplishment. I had made it through to him. After a minute or so of hugging me, he let go; there was a smile spread across his face and something told me that he hadn't looked like that in a long time.

He only said, "Thank you, Lara," but those simple words made my heart feel more whole than it had been since Gustave left.

"It is my pleasure, Erik." We were still seated on the floor with Christine's record and his mask lying not too far away, and I picked up the former and examined it. "You know, I would love to hear her voice. Gustave tells me she was amazing. Would you like to see if we can get this to work again?"

"It couldn't hurt to try," he said as he turned around to get the record player that sat on the floor behind him.

Once we took a good look at things, it turned out all that needed to be done was cleaning the needle and the grooves on the record. It seemed that all those years of use without maintenance had caused a buildup of dust and other things. Once we had done that, the record played almost perfectly, though it became somewhat evident that a new copy may be needed soon. Once it began playing, a beautiful voice filled the room. It was one of the most perfect things I had ever heard. I could only imagine what it must have been like to hear it live and crystal clear. "I can see why you loved her," I said as we sat and listened to the song.

He chuckled at the comment like I couldn't have been more wrong. "I loved her for more than just her voice. Her voice may have been the reason I found her, but the person behind the masterpiece was more than I ever could have deserved." He was looking at the record sleeve with a longing expression as he continued: "She was so much stronger than me. She had such a big heart that I was surprised it all fit inside her. She filled the dungeon of my black despair with more light than I ever thought possible. She was too good for this world and too good for me. I think that was why she was taken from me, time and time again. She had a pure heart and that made her more deadly than anyone I have ever known."

"I suppose she was to you what Gustave is to me. Gustave makes me feel like I am not so alone in the world. Like I am more than what I am. When I am with him, I know I don't have to put up the stiff front. I don't have to be a lady," I said as I took a deep breath, trying to keep the tears at bay. I hadn't been able to talk about this to anyone for so long. It was like I hadn't processed everything until now. All of a sudden, I realized that the last letter I received from him might have been the last letter I would ever receive from him. Everything was hitting me at once and now I wasn't so sure I could handle it. "Nobody could comprehend what had been taken from me when he left. He was one of the only people in the world who understood me beyond what can be seen on the surface. I was allowed to express who I am around him because he loves me anyway."

I was about to start crying when I felt Erik's arms wrap around me. Immediately I felt safe like I was in a place where it was okay to cry about this sort of thing.

"It's okay, dear," he spoke calmly as he smoothed down my hair, trying to soothe me as best he could. "You know that he would be in shambles if he knew you were crying."

Once he let me go, I began to wipe my face, knowing I must have looked like a complete mess. "He really would. He's always hated seeing people cry," I said.

"He's been like that since he was very young," Erik explained as he stood up off of the ground and went to sit at one of the chairs near his desk. "Whether it be me, Will, or even Madeleine. That boy hates seeing people in pain."

"Gustave never tells me any stories about when he was younger," I said as I got off the floor as well. "Maybe you have some funny ones that I can annoy him with when he gets back."

A wide smile spread across his face as he said: "I have a couple... "

I was woken up by Gustave jumping on the other side of my bed. I had been sleeping close to the edge and nearly ended up falling off. "What's happening?" I asked. I was so confused, and I knew that I still sounded like I was half asleep. My question, however, was only answered by more jumping. Once I sat up, though, it seemed to satisfy Gustave that I was awake. He stopped jumping and was sitting cross-legged on the bed by the time I looked over at him. "Are we late for something? Are you alright?"

"Papa look outside!" He gestured out the window with such an excited look on his face, I thought he may combust. "It snowed last night! Let's go outside and play!"

We had only been in London for a couple of months, though I will admit that they got more snow than what he was probably used to in France. "Give me a moment to get dressed and eat something first, Gustave."

"Let's go now! If I give you time to get dressed, you might change your mind and get distracted with something." He read me like a book. This boy was getting to know me too well.

The next thing I knew, he had grabbed me by the arm and was pulling me out of bed. I had underestimated his strength. "Let me get my slippers first," I said.

"Fine. Hurry though!"

I quickly grabbed my slippers and once they were on, the pulling on my arm resumed. I barely made it down the stairs without tripping. He dragged me out the back door and the cold wind hit my face like a brick wall.

"It's amazing!" I looked down and found that Gustave had already started playing and running outside. The look on his face was one of absolute joy. His smile made me forget the cold, making it worth it to be out here is this temperature. "Come play with me, Papa!"

"I'm alright with just watching. You have fun," I replied.

Instantly, his shoulders slumped in disappointment. "Please, Papa," he begged.

"I'll just watch from over here." I had looked away for a mere second only to be smacked in the face with something freezing. I turned back at him to see that his jaw was slack, his face as white as the snow.

"I'm so sorry Papa, I didn't mean to hit you in the face. It was supposed to hit the wall to get your attenti-" He was interrupted by me returning his snowball with one of my own. I felt that it was a good way to respond and prove that I wasn't upset. He was always so afraid of seeing me mad. He had told me some stories of when he had made the Vicomte upset, but I knew it was a deep-rooted fear nonetheless.

It was also partially for revenge.

"You have no idea what you have started, my boy," I said.

Within seconds, the colour had returned to his face and he crouched down to make another snowball, with me right there with him. We spent the next half an hour or so chasing each other around the yard, trying to hit each other with as many snowballs as possible. I made them in sets of five or so, whereas he made them as he went.

"Your lack of preparation will fail you soldatino," I called out to him at one point while I was crouched down making more ammunition.

He gave me a toothy smile and caught his breath before saying, "Maybe it helps me, Papa, I can move around as I please. You are stuck in one spot."

Right after he said that I was hit right in the stomach and decided to make a show of it. "Direct hit. This is the end of me," I proclaimed as I fell back into the snow.

I heard his laughter as he ran to my side and laid down next to me. We lay there in the snow and just laughed for a good while. There was this warm feeling in my chest that kept me from feeling the cold all around me. This is what I had always wanted, these moments where all that mattered was the smiles and the fun we were having. I only wish I had been in his life for more of them. He was growing so fast. Eventually, I was going to run out of moments like this, no matter how much I wished I could keep them forever. I had never gotten these moments when I was his age and I would hate for him to miss out on this the way I had.

After we had stopped laughing, Gustave rolled away from me and laid himself out straight. "What are you doing?" I asked.

"I'm making snow angels," he explained as he began moving his arms and legs. "You should make one too, Papa."

With little protest, I began to copy his movements. I had never done it before so I simply followed his example. After about a minute, we stood up and looked at our results. His was so much smaller than mine and much cleaner. Mine was very long, to say the least, and uneven. One side seemed to be shorter than the other and I had no idea how that had happened.

"Let's make a snowman, Papa!" Gustave exclaimed as he went to the other side of the yard. I followed him and by the time I got there, he had already begun rolling the first snowball.

It took longer than expected, but eventually, we had a somewhat proportional snowman. It also ended up being slightly crooked, but it didn't seem to bother either of us. It was the fact that we made it together that made it perfect. Without saying a word, Gustave ran inside and returned within moments with some buttons and a carrot.

"He needs a face," he explained as he began adding the accessories to the top snowball. Once he was done, he stepped back to admire his work. The face was symmetrical and rather funny, but it was perfect for him regardless. As I looked at him admiring our work, I noticed that he was shivering.

"Gustave, are you getting cold?" I asked.

"I'm fine, Papa. What do you want to do next?" he responded, but right after those words left his mouth, his teeth began chattering. He was cold and simply in denial.

"Gustave, come on, we should go inside and get changed. You are shivering." I went to take his hand so we could walk back inside, but he shook his hand free and stayed firm where he was. "Why don't you want to go inside?"

"Because if we go inside, you'll start working and we are having so much fun out here," he admitted, looking everywhere except my eyes. I had been working very hard as of late and Gustave was clearly feeling a bit neglected. I never meant to do that to him but that was the cost of trying to run the business.

I crouched down to his level to make sure he was looking at me and so that he knew I was looking at him. "Gustave, we do need to go inside. You are shivering and I don't want you to get sick. I know I have been working a lot lately and I am truly sorry for that. How about when we go inside we get changed into some dry clothes and I will make us some tea and hot cocoa? We can spend the rest of the day playing games inside. Does that sound good?"

A small smile spread across his face and he nodded at me, taking my hand as I stood up. We made our way to the back door and for a moment, I looked back at all the disruptions we had made in the once smooth snow. That was the evidence of one of the best mornings I had had in a long time.

Erik and I had been laughing throughout the story. The mental image I was having of him and Gustave running around in the snow in their pyjamas was hilarious. "You two must have looked like utter fools to your neighbours had they looked out."

"We probably did, though I don't recall either of us caring enough to look," he replied, still laughing at the thought.

"I'll have to make sure I challenge him to a snowball fight when he gets back." With that, we both burst out laughing again at the absurd mental image.

Once we had calmed down from laughing, there was a comfortable silence between us. There was none of the distasteful awkwardness that I would usually get if I were around my parents' friends or if I was at one of the ridiculous parties Mother had been dragging me to. I looked at the time then to see that it was almost half-past four, remembering that I was supposed to see Jane in about an hour. She had been taking this a lot worse than me; she and William had only been together a few weeks before the boys had gotten their letters.

"You know, Gustave isn't the only one who left a sweetheart behind," I confessed to Erik, who immediately turned to me, the look of confusion making me laugh quietly. "What I mean is that William and my cousin Jane had only been together for less than a month before he had to go. She is still terribly upset about it."

He was shocked by the news, as I could practically see all the questions running around in his head. "How did this happen?" he asked.

"They had been pinning after each other for months - you would have gotten a good laugh out of it had you seen them. Gustave and I teased them relentlessly. It wasn't until Jane walked up and told him that he had the nerve to do anything. They were inseparable from that point on."

"I wonder if Maddie knows about this, I'm sure she'd love to meet her," he snickered before continuing: "Knowing Maddie, she'd probably invite her over and make her a full meal."

"I don't know if he told his parents. I know Jane hasn't told her mother because my mother has yet to ask me a million questions about it," I said.

Erik smirked and looked over to his desk, where there was a picture of the two boys together when they were younger. "You know, the whole coward facade sounds nothing like William. He was always the more outgoing of the two."

"That much is easy to tell. William is always finding new ways to get into trouble and Gustave is always finding ways to get him out of it." This warranted a laugh out of Erik, and something told me he had laughed more today than he had in a long time. He had a reminiscent look on his face and I simply had to know more. "What are you thinking about?" I inquired.

"Well, I just noticed that William and Gustave are almost exactly like Nadir and I. When I was younger, I was a lot more outspoken. I didn't care who I was talking to and how I was talking to them. As you can imagine this got me into a lot of trouble, especially in Persia. But Nadir was always there to get me out of it." He looked down at his hands and smiled. "Though sometimes I was the one who had to get him out of trouble, it seems we've always needed each other. I'm only laughing because I cannot believe I hadn't noticed that little parallel sooner. "

"I suppose it must be rather obvious when you put it like that."

"It does. Anyhow, you mentioned that Jane is not taking his absence very well. I do hope she is alright."

I looked down at my hands. I wish I could have said that she was alright but she had been an absolute wreck. The worst part was that she hasn't told her parents so she couldn't even go to them for support. "You know, I think she'd be doing better if William would send her a letter. I gave him her mailing address but she still has yet to receive anything."

"I am sure he will send something soon. From what I've heard they have been keeping the boys busy with whatever it is they are building. Gustave is practically nocturnal thanks to my genetics, but William is not as accustomed to not getting sleep."

"I hope so. I wish there was some way to help her, though. Like a way to know him without him being here."

"Well, Maddie has better stories than me, but I like to think I had a say in how that boy was raised, so I do have some stories about him."

I had been getting lunch ready inside when William came running through the back door.

"Uncle Erik, Gustave fell outside! I think he hurt himself," he exclaimed. I immediately dropped what I had been doing and ran outside to find Gustave sitting on the grass. As I walked over to him, William explained what had happened: "We were playing and he tripped on something, but I don't know what. He fell on the grass but he still hit his head pretty hard."

When we finally got to him, Gustave looked at me and the first thing I saw was all the blood pouring down his chin. I got down on my knees and panic filled my mind at all the possibilities of what could be broken. "Are you alright? Are you in pain? Do you feel dizzy?"

"Well to answer the questions in order. Yes, no and no," he replied. He was acting smart - another quality he seemed to have inherited from his mother and me, though at least Christine was more eloquent about it. I gave his mouth a quick inspection to find that he had cut his lip and that seemed to have been the source of all the blood.

"William, could you please go get me a washcloth? Make sure it is slightly damp." With his simple instructions, he went running inside. I knew that William had been at the house often enough to know where things were kept. In a few minutes, he returned to my side with what I had asked him to get. While most children his age would have waited at the side in the presence of an injury like this, William was right there next to Gustave as I cleaned him up. These two boys had only known each other for a year or so but it was like they had been brought up together since birth.

Once I had gotten most of the blood out of the way I was able to get a proper look at the cut, which was small considering what had come out of it. My theory quickly became that when Gustave landed, he had accidentally bit his lip. "Well, it could have been worse, but it seems to be alright now."

Gustave smiled at that, which was when I noticed a gap in his teeth that hadn't been there a moment before. Instantly all the panic that I had experienced before came flooding back to me. "Gustave, you lost a tooth!"

"Yes, I did." He nodded his head and then lifted his hand to show me the bloody tooth in his palm. "See, here it is."

"Neither of you thought to mention that earlier." I was looking at both of the boys for an answer and William was the first to speak up.

"He said he was fine. I wanted to tell you but he insisted that it wasn't a big deal."

"Because I am fine. I am, I promise," Gustave added.

"But..." I began, but I stopped when I realized this was a losing battle. If he said he was fine, I should believe him. Besides, he didn't seem to be bothered by any of it. "Alright, if you say you are fine, then that's the end of it. But if it starts bleeding again we might have to go to the doctor."

"Alright, Papa." Gustave agreed to that at least, but William still looked a little concerned. At least I knew someone was going to tell me if things got worse because something told me that Gustave would avoid doctors at all costs. "Can William and I keep playing?"

I sighed and couldn't help but smile to see that he was so unphased by it all. "Yes, you can keep playing. But I don't want to see any more gaps in your teeth by the time you come back in," I said.

"I promise," he replied quickly before he stood up again.

I then turned to William. "Same goes for you. I don't want to have to explain something like that to your mother. I doubt she would be pleased."

He quickly nodded before replying, "Believe me, I know."

I smiled at him and ruffled his hair. "Healthy fear of your mother. Good decision."

And with that, those two resumed their playing like nothing had happened. From what I gathered, it was a game where the two of them were at war with something. It was hilarious watching them throw stones and use sticks as guns against an imaginary enemy.

"They're headstrong, the both of them," Erik admitted. He was smiling at the memory and it felt so good that I was helping him smile.

"That is one quality they both share, though I think Gustave is more stubborn. William can be swayed after a little convincing. Gustave is next to impossible," I said, thinking about those few times we'd been caught up in disagreements.

"Oh definitely, he gets that from me. Us arguing is a bad combination," Erik explained. I could only imagine what that would be like, considering what I know about the two of them. "The biggest one must have been when he told me about you."

I couldn't keep my shock from manifesting in a baffled expression on my face. "You fought about…me?"

"I suppose he never told you. I can see why. Anyhow, we did, It was the worst." I couldn't tell if he was trying to make me feel better or worse; nevertheless, he continued: "I was not happy at all when I found out who your uncle was. To be fair, neither was Gustave, but I was livid. I have seen more of the Vicomte than he had and I knew him well, as I'm sure Nadir at least hinted at. So to hear that my son had fallen for that man's niece was the last thing I wanted to hear. I had been eager to eliminate him from my life, but he was being brought into my house through his family. After he got home from his first meal with you and your parents, we had quite the fight. We had never yelled at each other like we did before that and we haven't yelled at each other like that since then."

"I never meant to come between you two," I said quietly as I noticed an all too familiar bulb of guilt rising in my chest. "Sometimes I wonder why Gustave stays with me after what happened to him."

It seemed that Erik realized how much my family name weighed on me in my relationship with Gustave. Though he hadn't told me everything, I did have some idea of what my uncle had done to Gustave and his mother and I could not imagine all the other things he hadn't told me. I was constantly in disbelief when I see that he has chosen to stay with me. Erik pulled me under his arm again and just held me there for a while before saying: "You know I mean this as no offence to you, but I had wanted Gustave to terminate your relationship entirely when I found out. But Gustave was so passionate about keeping you in his life; it was like nothing I had ever seen from him before. He said that you made him forget everything that had happened, that you make him feel like more than he is. So, in my eyes, there is no question as to why he stays with you - it is because he needs you. You should not feel guilty about something that happened without your knowledge. You are an intelligent young lady, I know you can see that there is no logic in being guilty of something you did not do."

I hugged him from the side, given our position. "Thank you."

"You are quite welcome. You are practically part of the family at this point." His comment made a wide smile spread across my face and a warm feeling replaced the guilt that had been growing. Without realizing it, my eyes had drifted over to the piano, where sheet music was open. My curiosity got the better of me and I had to know what the song was, so without a word, I stood up and walked over to the piano.

I sat down on the bench and read through the papers. The title was scrawled out in messy handwriting that looked to have been written a long time ago: No One Would Listen. I was tearing up by simply reading the lyrics; I could only imagine the pain Erik must have been feeling when he wrote it. Without thinking, I was able to play the first few notes. Erik had walked over at some point and was standing next to me, the needle having been taken off the record and Christine's voice no longer filling the room.

"I remember Gustave saying that he was teaching you to play," he said.

Sheepishly, I nodded. "Yes, he was, but I don't believe I am ready for a song this complex. I would love to hear it though."

"Allow me then," he said as he sat down next to me and adjusted the papers. He began to play and at some point or another, I had begun singing. The words were heartbreaking, but the melody was so smooth and calm you almost did not realize that someone's soul was being poured out with every word.

When the song was done, Erik turned to me in astonishment. "You can sing too. My god, you are perfect for this family."

"I am not very good." I was utterly embarrassed by his remark; I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks. Though it did feel good to know that it helped in my acceptance into this family, I did not like singing in front of others. I don't know what had possessed me to sing as he played, but something just felt right.

"On the contrary, my dear. Though your voice may need some training, it is quite good," he began, seeming almost enthusiastic about the prospect. "Regardless, it is still beautiful. If you would like, I could help you."

"You would do that?" I asked, never having considered taking voice lessons before.

"Of course I would. It would be a shame to leave that talent untapped."

I couldn't help but smile. Nobody had ever thought so much of me before. Mother was still averse to Gustave teaching me piano, so I wondered what she would think of Erik teaching me how to sing. "Thank you. It is easy to sound good when the song is beautiful. Though I have to ask, Erik…how do you deal with it? All the pain that undoubtedly consumes you."

A sombre expression draped over his face. I felt guilty for bringing this up after we were making such progress, but I needed to know or the question would bother me to no end. "Well, my dear, there is no easy way of putting it. After decades of being alone, the tears stop coming. Eventually, you give in. You accept your perpetually numb state and live with how you are. But he…he is one of the greatest things to ever happen to me. It was as if the forces of the universe had finally taken a break from causing me torment and given me a reprieve of happiness. I can't lose him too. I don't know what I'll do with myself if I do. He gave me a reason to live after all I've been through. I promised Christine before I lost her that I would do everything to keep him safe, I can't break my last vow to her."

Tears began to roll down his cheeks again and my first instinct was to hug him. I knew I had said it before but I tried to explain to him again: "We have each other. We'll wait for him together, and we'll greet him together when he comes home to our embrace. And Christine hasn't left you, just as Gustave hasn't. He is going to come home. Just like he promised."

We sat there for what felt like an eternity. Neither of us wanted to leave. It was clear that this was a heart to heart conversation we had both needed to have.