The head waiter eyed Erik suspiciously as he approached. A flick of the wrist and Erik produced his badge from the sleeve of his trench coat and showed it to the man, which if anything heightened the waiter's suspicion.
"I'm investigating a missing persons case and would appreciate your assistance in the matter," his words were polite but his tone brokered no debate. "Did you notice anything suspicious last night? Any odd customers?"
It turned out it had been a slow evening the night before, the only customers were regulars there - and many of them performers or crew from the opera. Erik took down a list of their names just in case, and spoke to more of the staff who had also worked that evening. All agreed it had been a normal night - mostly small groups of singers celebrating after the show, a few stage hands here and there, and several customers who were not usual guests of the establishment but also didn't draw much attention.
At the Opera Populaire, Antoinette was inquiring about Raoul's new position as patron.
"He's been quite generous," the manager shrugged. "There seems to be no limit to what he's willing to spend. He doesn't strike me as... The brightest young man, but he's very likable. I can't imagine anyone wanting to harm him."
Antoinette nodded.
"He hasn't mentioned any kind of troubles? Has he made reference to any kind of a debt, or owing someone something?"
"No, nothing of the sort."
"Have you ever met his brother, Philippe?"
"He's often spoken of his brother - he thinks the world of him - but I've never met the man, no."
Antoinette scribbled down a note and was about to ask another question when the door tentatively opened and a young girl from the concierge entered, frowning.
"Someone just dropped off this letter, they said it was urgent," she held out an envelope to the manager.
He opened it quickly and turned pale.
"Wha- what's the meaning of this, then?" he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and mopped at his brow.
Antoinette reached for the letter and looked at its contents.
"No, no... Who gave this to you? What did he look like?"
The girl fidgeted nervously, unsure of what was going on.
"He was average height, a big grey cloak, black boots... He had a good up, I couldn't see him very well."
The words were barely out of her mouth before Antoinette shot up and ran down the hallway at full speed, past the concierge desk and out into the street.
She ran first one direction, then the other, eyes wildly searching all the while, but she could catch no sight of the man who left the letter. He was gone. Her gaze drifted down to that letter still clutched in her shaking hand, that familiar spindly script forming words that made her blood run cold. Written by the same hand that wrote Raoul's ransom note. She seemed frozen there in the middle of the sidewalk for a moment, the world rushing on by while all she could think of was the threat to Christine spelled out in those thin mocking ink lines. The stupor broke and she ran back inside the Opera House, down to the ballet rehearsal rooms where she knew Meg would be practicing.
"Where is Christine?!"
Meg jumped at the sudden surprise, Antoinette's fear seeping into her as well.
"She was just here, why? What's happened?"
"She isn't safe - we need to find her right now!"
Meg darted out of the room and her mother followed.
Christine was found wandering a hallway, blissfully ignorant.
"Christine!" Meg threw her arms around her.
"Meg! What's happened?" Christine asked in wonder.
"I don't know, but Maman said you weren't safe! Are you okay?"
Christine felt panic rising up in her.
"I- I think so?"
Antoinette reached them moments later.
"Oh, Christine," she breathed. "You need to come with me, my dear. I'm afraid something has happened."
Christine raised a hand to cover her mouth, tears forming in her eyes as she noticed the letter in Antoinette's hand.
"Is it Raoul?"
"No, dear," Antoinette paused. "It's about you."
Even after sitting in Giry's office for the past hour, making idle small talk with Meg, Christine can't shake the tremble to her hands. Antoinette had let her read the letter after Christine had practically demanded then begged to be able to do so, but only after the door was locked.
"Jammes was so mad that the costumes for the second dance are going to be red - she says it'll look awful with her hair. But you know, I'm quite pleased with it because it looks just lovely with my hair."
Meg gave her long, black hair a flip, reveling in it finally being down out of a bun for a change.
"Jammes doesn't think anything looks good with her hair," Christine rolled her eyes.
Meg nodded.
"I told her to just wear a wig if she's so particular about it, and she got mad at me, can you imagine? I was just trying to help!"
Christine managed a giggle in spite of herself. She loved her friend for her attempts at distraction, but she didn't think anything could ever set her mind at ease until this whole ordeal was over.
Still, she tried to lose herself in Meg's gossip about the other ballet girls, until suddenly the locked doorknob rattled, shattering the stillness and making both girls jump. Antoinette stood quickly from behind her desk, reaching underneath for the weapon she stored there.
In the midst of her fear, Christine marveled at Antoinette. When something happened that caused most other people to flinch backwards, Antoinette was lurching forwards, courageously putting herself in between danger and its target so that she could put an end to it, without any thought for herself. Christine longed to be that brave one day.
The noise of the knob rattling was replace with the sound of a key turning.
Erik opened the door and was greeted with the sight of Christine clinging to Meg on the couch and Antoinette posed in such a stance that he knew she was holding a small pistol under the desk.
He paused, glancing at each face, before entering the office and quickly locking the door behind him once again.
"I take you all had a more interesting afternoon than I did."
Antoinette had slumped against the desk as soon as she realized it was him, but quickly produced the letter regarding Christine and showed it to Erik. His expression turned dark as he read it.
"This was delivered to the manager's office when I was there this morning," she told him.
"The same handwriting, is it not," he murmured.
"Yes. I want Christine under constant supervision until this perpetrator is found."
Erik nodded his agreement.
"I need you to stay here and keep an eye on her while I go see the Comte," she continued before turning to a dress Christine. "When I get back Meg and I will escort you to your apartment, where we'll help you pack everything you'll need. You'll be staying with us until we get this all sorted out."
Christine nodded mutely. Her mind was still reeling. Just this morning everything had been going about in a fairly normal manner, and suddenly everything was turned upside down and she felt like she was on the run.
With that Antoinette left to question Philippe. Erik turned to the girls on the couch, pulling his notes out of his pocket and settling himself behind the desk where Antoinette had been moments earlier.
"What can you tell me about these people from the Opera?"
He read each name off of the list, pausing to hear their opinions before moving on to the next.
"La Sorelli at a restaurant?" Meg scoffed. "She actually eats?"
"La Sorelli is too sweet to be involved with anything like this," Christine shook her head.
"Isabell and Peter are too busy planning their elopement to have time for kidnapping," Meg said decisively.
"What?" Christine looked confused.
"Oh," Meg clapped a hand over her mouth. "That was supposed to be a secret... Jospeh Boquet? He's drunk off his ass most of the time and I doubt he has enough brain cells left to plan a dinner let alone something like this."
"Meg!"
"Are you denying it, Christine?" Meg sniffed. "You know it's true."
"It's true, but you shouldn't say it!"
"And Katrina is a horrid old busybody, in everyone's business. She's so petty, but she couldn't keep a secret if her life depended on it, so it definitely isn't her."
Erik raised an eyebrow at the description that Meg delivered without a hint of self awareness.
"None of them would have reason to extort the Comte?" Erik asked.
"No, no reason I can think of," Christine bit her lip.
She didn't think there was a reason, but as of a hour ago she wasn't so certain of anything anymore.
Erik thanked them for their help and focused on clarifying his notes for when Antoinette got back.
Christine felt too shy to continue to gossip with Erik in the room, grabbing a pillow off the couch and hugging it to herself as though to add another layer of protection against his gaze even though he wasn't looking at her. Meg flipped through a magazine, pointing out pictures and articles to Christine, until finally they reached the end of it and she tossed it back on the table in a huff.
"Can Christine and I go get a soda from the corner store?" she asked presently.
"No," Erik didn't bother to look up.
"We can be back in five minutes."
"No."
"What if you went with us?" Meg tried hopefully.
Erik paused, finally looking up.
"Definitely not, then."
Meg dramatically threw her arm over her face and leaned back on the couch, Christine burying her face in the cushion to keep from laughing.
"Erik," Meg whined. "We are bored."
Without a word Erik reached into a desk drawer, pulled out a deck of cards in a small box, and threw them at her. They bounced off of her shoulder and she gave a small yelp. She picked them up with a loud sigh and a pointedly doleful look at Erik - which he entirely ignored.
Meg gave up her hopes of going out and began setting up for a card game with Christine. They played for what seemed an eternity to Christine, and she began to wonder if this was what her life was going to be like for the foreseeable future.
"Meg," she whispered. "If I have to play one more game of rummy, I am going to lose my mind and scream."
Meg snickered.
At that moment Antoinette returned and saved them from the deck of cards. The rattle of the key startled the girls once again, while Erik merely looked up attentively and made an odd motion with his wrist.
Antoinette stormed in, a scowl on her face.
"It's only me, Erik, put your lasso away," she sighed.
Christine tried to get a better look at the arm he had moved when he heard the door opening. Did he have some kind of weapon up his sleeve?
"How did it go?" he chuckled.
"Damn that Comte," Antoinette muttered. "He was so uncooperative, he flat out refused to answer certain questions, and he insinuated that this was a situation better left to the men."
Erik steepled his fingers and watched his partner fume as she paced the room.
"Shall I rough him up for you?" he offered.
She gave him a small glare.
"It wouldn't have to be very bad, just a little, you know," he continued. "I could go at night, wear a different mask, he wouldn't even know it was me."
Antoinette rubbed at her temples, sighing.
"As tempting as that sounds, I believe your standard verbal lashing will work just as well," she dropped her notebook on the desk. "Read over what I managed to get and prepare accordingly. I'll watch Christine the rest of the day and tomorrow while you're at the Comte's, then you'll have her the next three days."
You'll have her the next three days.
"W-what?" Erik stuttered.
Antoinette continued on as though she hadn't heard.
"I'll take her over the weekend, and on Wednesday, and you'll watch her the rest of the time."
"What?"
"What?"
"Antoinette..." his tone bordered on whining. "Why am I watching her the majority of the time?"
Antoinette raised an eyebrow.
"I'm sorry, Erik, did you have other plans?"
Erik looked at Christine with an air of dismay.
Christine was hugging the pillow tightly again, blinking hard. She felt like a child once more, having to be foisted onto someone who didn't want to have to care for her but had no choice. Mamma Valerius had been good to her, but there had been several families she had had to stay with after her papa died and before living with Mamma that had been less than enthusiastic about having to care for her.
All Erik could see, however, was a young woman who clearly didn't like hearing who she was going to be spending the majority of her time with.
Christine glanced up at him, inwardly wincing at how he was looking at her with such disappointment, such disapproval. He didn't want her around him, and it brought back feelings and memories she'd rather forget.
"Please, Madame - can't I stay with you the whole time?" she pleaded.
"Erik, you've always done all of the surveillance in the past, I don't see why this is any different. Christine, dear, you'll be staying with me every night and three days a week, I wish I could accommodate your wishes more, but I do have one more case I'm currently working and I can't always have you there for that. Erik will be able to accompany you to your work, and you can spend your days off with me."
She paused and glanced at both disappointed faces.
"And the quicker we all get used to this arrangement, the quicker we can find this scoundrel and no one will have to watch anyone anymore. Now, is that settled?"
Christine nodded and Erik slouched down in his seat, resigned to his fate.
"Good. Christine, are you ready to go to your apartment?"
Christine's mind was still reeling on the walk to her apartment, a vague fear that someone might jump out from around the corner and attempt to spirit her off to some place no one would ever find her again. Antoinette and Meg on either side of her did little to calm that fear. She half wanted to insist that the Opera simply pay the requested sum in the letter so that she wouldn't have to worry anymore, but that amount of money would bankrupt them. Pay the bankrupting fee, or have their new star taken from them. Neither would happen if Antoinette had any say in it, but as the Opera certainly would not be paying, Christine was wary of the other options.
As she attempted to sort through her belongings to find what she could not live without, her mind tried to get used to what her life was about to become. She had to admit that from a purely scientific viewpoint, Erik would make a better security guard than Madame Giry - it was merely a given that someone that tall would also be stronger as well, although she knew from past experience that Madame could most definitely knock a man out cold. Still, she didn't relish the thought of spending so much time with him. He was so awkward to be around. She had such trouble reading his mood because she couldn't see his face, and she was afraid that any glance not directed at his eyes would make him think she was staring at the mask, but any eye contact that lingered then felt like she was staring at his unusual eyes and then she'd have to look away, flustered - only for that to give the impression that there was something about him that made her not want to look at him.
She sighed wearily just thinking about it.
She hadn't even given a thought to how work would go. She had a show coming up, a small show featuring a few singers performing some solos, and she had been added to the lineup after her excellent run during Faust. Would he have to be there for that? Would he have to stand on stage with her? She would feel ridiculous doing that. Just how close an eye did he need to keep on her? Would he- would he have to be in her dressing room with her? A blush rose up on her cheeks thinking about it.
"Why are you making that face?" Meg asked as she helped her pack her toothbrush and floss.
Christine rolled her eyes.
"I was just thinking... I'm not used to spending so much time around a man in such close quarters, especially one I barely know. It just feels... awkward, doesn't it?" she lowered her voice. "I'm so glad your mother is letting me stay at your place - I simply can't imagine having to stay overnight with him."
Meg smothered a wicked smirk and asked in her most innocent tone, "Oh, because he lives at the office?"
Christine gave her a knowing glare as they made their way to the small living room.
"You know what I mean, Meg. I can't picture having to spend the night with a- a man. It just feels... improper, even if it isn't like that at all. I know it's probably silly of me, but I can't help how I feel," she gave a small shrug.
Meg snickered and put an arm around Christine's shoulders.
"I don't think you're silly. But you don't have to fret over it because you're staying with us. Besides, Erik isn't even attracted to girls."
"Oh, like Raoul?"
Meg shook her head.
"No, he doesn't like boys, either. He just doesn't like anyone, not in that way."
Antoinette caught part of the conversation for the first time.
"Meg!" she admonished her daughter. "That's terribly rude - you shouldn't tell that sort of information about someone unless you explicitly know they're okay with you telling other people."
"I know, Maman, but it's not as if he's keeping it a secret - I'm sure he'd tell if he was asked, and I know Christine won't think anything bad of it..." she glanced sheepishly at her friend. "And I know she's good at keeping secrets, better than I am, at least..."
Antoinette sighed.
"Valid points, but please try to limit who you broadcast personal information to in the future."
"Of course, Maman. I will use the utmost discretion, you have my word."
Christine disguised her laugh as a cough - she could never keep a straight face when Meg's eye sparkled like that.
"Go pack some dresses for Christine, Meg," she handed her a suitcase for the chosen dresses and waited till Meg was out of the room before turning and addressing Christine.
Her mind lingered on Erik's previous words about Christine being afraid of him, on how she had asked to not have him as her guard, and now on the snippet of conversation she had overheard.
"Christine, dear," her voice was soft. "If you truly do not wish to have to be around him, I can work something out. I do not wish for you to be uncomfortable - would you prefer I make other arrangements for you, ones that don't include Erik?"
Christine hesitated. She knew Giry would go to the ends of the earth to accommodate her wishes if she so asked. She also knew that it would be rather a burden on Giry, likely taking away from other case she was investigating, or even a burden on herself - if Giry couldn't take enough time off for Christine's rehearsals and shows, then Christine would have to drop out of the show. Erik wouldn't be terribly pleased with having to watch her, and he would probably also consider having to do so a burden... And it was selfish of her, she knew, but if there had to be a burden - let it be on Erik. She would not drop out of her show and she would not delay the missing child from the other case being brought back home safely because of her own awkward feelings.
"No, it's alright. I think you were right before - it'll go quicker this way. I don't mind, really."
"If you ever change your mind, please do not hesitate to tell me. But I think you'll be quite safe with Erik - I trust him with life, and he's never let me down yet. I know he be a little... much, at times, but he's fiercely loyal, and can be quite funny. He's warm, too, in his own way. It just takes him a while to feel comfortable around new people and open up. He's had a very difficult past, you know, people have treated him very poorly because of-"
Antoinette threw up her hands and huffed.
"Well, and right after I reprimanded Meg, here I am doing the same thing. I wonder where she gets it from."
Giry smiled wryly and shook her head.
"We can fix this, my dear - we will simply pretend that none of these conversations ever took place. What Erik doesn't know won't hurt him... hopefully."
This drew a small chuckle from Christine, who was picking nervously at the hem of her sleeve and thinking back on how she had treated him at their first meeting. Surely begging to not be around him mere hours ago hadn't made the situation between them any better, but she consoled herself by remembering that he had been the first to complain about having to watch her.
Once everything was packed and transported to the Girys' small house, Christine spent the rest of the afternoon unpacking what she could. She helped Antoinette cook dinner, and insisted on washing the dishes afterwards, saying it was the least she could do to repay her kindness.
That evening she and Meg stayed awake far too late, whispering and giggling and feeling like they fifteen again and bunking in the Opera House together. Christine lay on the thin mattress of the trundle bed and stared up at the shiny foil stars pasted on the ceiling and listened to Meg talk about the choreography she was working on. For the first time that day since hearing about the letter, she felt safe, and her heart felt full at knowing how much her friends cared for her even after all this time. In that moment it was easy to believe that Raoul would be back with them soon, safe at last.