I sit now, just watching as the sliver of a moon ascends the sky. The night reveals its secret beauty now. Stars glisten brightly in the pitch black, a sweet light cast down from them.

But I do not see this. I cannot even think straight. My anger broils my body and soul. I do not why I watch them. I knew what was going to happen, that I would see how much he loves her. Yet I stayed. I wanted that complete knowledge of everything she has. Everything I should be giving her.

"Christine," I say softly as tears pool in my eyes. I should not have come here to see her, I realize. I cannot see her again. I begin to move when I hear a small noise. I wait for a moment, and then it comes again, drifting from the room next to me. Carefully and silently, I follow my curiosity to the next room.

The dimmed lights are revealed to me as I open the door slowly. My eyes search the paled darkness and rest upon the shape in the middle of the room. I shut the door and go to the sound that emulates from here.

I look down and see Cecilia, awake and moving in her cradle.

She sees me and stops for a few moments. Automatically, I touch my face, sighing silently as I felt the mask's ever-lasting cover. I look into the pale blue orbs that stare right back into mine. A feeling of confusion and being lost come over me. The baby's innocent eyes pierce my blackened soul, hurting me more than anyone can tell.

I watch as her hands open and close, searching for something to hold. Without thinking, I lower my hand to her's, smiling as her fingers wrap tightly around one of my own. Kneeling down, I watch her for a while more. She looks exactly like Christine. Her hair is brown and curly, just long enough to swirl off the top of her head. I imagine, once again smiling, that she will grow to have the body of a dancer as well, graceful and beautiful.

And her voice.

God, I would teach her as well. I would be her Angel of Music. She would sing as the Prima Donna at every opera house in Paris.

I come back to reality. Sobering reality. This child might never see a stage in her lifetime. If Christine and Raoul keep their promise, the promise never to tell of an angel in hell. Cecilia will be a dancer and, no doubt, a singer. But she will never see a stage to perform upon.

She begins to whimper, her mouth curled up as she prepares to cry aloud. I shush her softly, my other hand running over her head, her curls the same softness as her mother's.

Close your eyes, let your spirit to soar. And you live as you never lived before. I sing the words to the tiny child, watching as she quieted and became enraptured by my voice.

Let your mind start a journey to a strange new world. Leave of thoughts of the life your knew before. Let your song take you long to be. I pause, knowing the next words as they began to stab at my heart.

Only then can you belong to me. I continue softly, being sure not to alert anyone to my presence with Cecilia.

You alone can make my song take flight. Help me make the music of the……night.

I watch with satisfaction as her eyelids slid down and sleep took her again. Against my conscience, I lean in and gently kissed her cheek.

I wasn't used to having the wind on both halves of my face. A strange feeling came over me. I felt whole. Like that part of me I longed for in Christine was there, even though she wasn't.

I look back at the window to Cecilia's room. Christine came in shortly after I left, the light going up in the room once I landed on the ground.

She found it already. She'll hide it from Raoul for sure. I can only hope one day she breaks her promise. I hope one day, Cecilia realizes how beautiful and amazing she and her mother truly are.

I pull my cloak around tighter. The angel of music lives again. But only for a small child. Hopefully.