Christine
I'm sitting on a blanket in a meadow of wildflowers, watching as Erik chases our children. Little Gustave is five and has my dark, curling hair and his father's piercing blue eyes. His baby sister, Céline, is three and an almost perfect miniature of me. Erik is a wonderful father, stern when he has to be, indulgent when he can be, and always so patient.
The week after Raoul abducted me, we moved to a flat near the opera. Raoul was tried, convicted, and sentenced to five years in prison. Erik, of course, found the sentence completely inadequate. The week after his release, the papers carried the headline "Disgraced Vicomte de Chagny flees to England."
Not long after moving into our flat, Erik managed to obtain legal documentation of his identity, taking the surname Leroux. We married legally; however, both of us still regard our marriage in his home on the lake as our true anniversary, and we still celebrate it every year.
Erik designed a stunning home for us which we had built as close to the opera as possible. He has since opened his own architectural firm and is one of the most sought after architects in Paris. As though this were not enough, Messrs Firmin and André decided that running an opera house for a tyrannical ghost was not for them. They sold the theater and Erik bought it. He has composed several operas of his own which have been performed first at the Opera Populaire, all to great acclaim.
Between his architectural designs and his operas, Erik is nearly a household name. No one ever questions the fact that he seemed to simply appear out of thin air. Afterall such a meteoric rise to fame is not unheard of, especially in Paris.
My own career has been illustrious, but is now behind me. I retired from the stage when I was carrying Céline. I do still occasionally sing for charity events or as a guest at the theater. Mostly, my singing is reserved for Erik and our children.
Our life together has not been perfect. Chief among our sorrows was the loss of our first baby, Gabrielle, who was born perfect, but sleeping. Our grief was deep and terrible. For a time, Erik buried his in work, to the detriment of our marriage. In the end we overcame this trial, and our love was made all the stronger by it.
The Opera Ghost has not been heard from in many years. Erik is fond of teasing that he might reprise the role on occasion. "Afterall," he says, "every famous theater needs a ghost."