Sara felt her way down the hallway. She had been in the opera house for almost a year and knew her way around by the texture of the walls and pillars. She had been summoned to her uncle's office for reasons unknown to her. Unfortunately, on her way past the workers dormitories, some of the younger boys followed her until they were well away from anyone who could give them trouble.

They said nothing to her at first, but when she stumbled on a step the first peals of laughter rang out, and wouldn't stop after that. She continued to feel her way down the hallway, the sound of the boys teasing following her relentlessly. She stepped on the bottom of her skirt and fell forward. She could hear the boys laughing at her and felt hot tears of anger and embarrassment burning in her eyes.

Her hand and arm stung as she pushed herself up. She heard a collective gasp from behind her, and could hear the sound of the boys struggling to get past one another. She felt a hand slide under her left arm and felt someone strong lift her to her feet.

"Thank you." She said to whomever it was that had helped her up.

"You're bleeding." A familiar male voice sounded in her ear. It was the voice she had been waiting 11 months to hear from again. He grabbed her uninjured hand and led her away from the place she had fallen. "Come, I'll clean that for you."

He led her down a passage that she could sense she had never been down before. The air was musty and mouldy and when her hand brushed the wall her hand came away wet. She turned her attention to the man in front of her that was leading her down this new passage. His hand was covered in a material much like that of the ballerina leotards that she often repaired for Mme. Giry.

The man slowed their pace and eventually brought them to a halt. She could hear water dripping and the sound of two pieces of wood bumping together. He tightened his grip on her hand, as his other arm went around behind her.

"You are stepping into a boat, but don't worry, I have you."

Sara smiled to herself; she was not worried that he would hurt her. She could sense a power in him that made him frightening to everyone, but she could not understand why. He helped her sit down on a seat covered in fur and steered the boat out onto the water. It took several minutes before she heard the clank of metal as a grate rose from the water to the ceiling.

She felt the boat bump against land and the man helped her to her feet once more. "Count your steps until I tell you to stop." He told her.

After thirty seven steps he told her to stop, and sat her down on something soft. She quickly realized that she sat on a bed, and the sheets beneath her were satin. They were cool and soft against her arms. She could hear him walk away and heard the sound of him rummaging around. She could hear his footsteps return and the bed beside her shifted. He began to clean her cuts with water before adding an ointment that made her arm sting.

"Who are you?" She asked after several quiet minutes.

"Who I am is not important to one as young as you." He told her, trying to concentrate on his task.

"You're the man that helped me when I was first brought here. I knew who you were the minute the boys grew frightened."

"So then if you know who I am, why ask such silly questions?"

Sara sighed in frustration. Her twelve year old brain could not comprehend why he was avoiding her questions. "I just want to know what to call you."

The man stayed silent for several minutes. "I have no name."

Sara fell silent while he dressed the largest of her injuries. The man began to feel uncomfortable by her silence. He knew the young girl was blind, but it still unnerved him that she was staring right at him, without seeing him. He had become used to people fleeing at the sight of him, and yet this small girl, knew none of that.

He jumped when he felt her hand touch his arm, and slowly move upward. Sara's breath was shaky as she slid her hand up towards the man's face. Her hand touched the left side first before her other hand touched the right. Her face knotted into confusion as she felt the smooth leather of a mask. Her eyes widened when she realised who he was and gasped.

"You!" She gasped.

The Phantom pushed her hands angrily away and stood up. He stormed off, leaving Sara shaking, now knowing why the boys had run from this man. The Phantom strode over to his writing desk and threw down the bottle of ointment in anger. He should have known that her childish curiosity would get the better of her eventually and she would try to find out who he was. Sara had brought him great comfort at the thought of him finally finding someone who would not be frightened of him.

Sara took a deep breath and stood from the bed. She had no idea which way the Phantom had disappeared in, but at the same time she could sense his presence. She stumbled her way along a stairway, one hand on the wall and one hand outstretched in front of her. She finally felt the heat of his body and closed her hand over his shoulder. She slid her hand up the left side of his face before wrapping her arms around him, embracing him tightly.

"Erik." She whispered into his ear.

He touched one of her arms and held it. "What?"

"Your name," Sara told him. "Now your name is Erik."

For the first time in a very long time a smile crept across his face. They stayed like that for several minutes, before Erik stood and grabbed her hand. "Come, I must return you to the dormitories. I'm sure your uncle is wondering where you've disappeared to."

This time, instead of leaving on the lake, he showed her a passage, and had her touch the walls. He pushed open a door that lead to the hallway of her Uncles office. The same door he had exited through when he first saw her standing in the corridor. She stepped through and he quickly closed it behind her.

"There you are!" Her uncle exclaimed. "We've been searching for you for almost an hour!"

"Where have you been child?" Mme. Giry asked.

"With Erik." Sara said before she could stop herself.

"Who is Erik?" Her uncle demanded.

Mme. Giry saw the bandage on Sara's arm, and her eyes widened slightly. "Erik is one of the new stage hands, monsieur. She must have been showing him around and gotten lost."

Sara's uncle sighed in frustration. "Very well, what I needed to discuss with you will have to wait. I have a meeting with the Marquis; perhaps he will be feeling generous tonight and donate some more money to the production of the new opera. Mme. Giry, please take my niece back to her room."

Mme. Giry nodded, and after grabbing Sara's arm rather roughly, dragged the girl along behind her. "I don't know why you disappeared earlier." Mme. Giry told her as they reached the dormitories. "But be very careful to whom you speak of Erik to."

Sara's eyes narrowed in confusion. "You know who he is then?"

Mme. Giry said nothing, but opened the door for Sara. "Go to bed."

Sara nodded and walked through the door, counting the twelve steps that it took to get to her bed. She sat down and began to undo her shoes, feeling someone else's weight join her. "Who is it?" She demanded.

"It's me." Christine whispered to her softly.

Sara sighed, not wanting to deal with any of Christine's problems at that particular moment. "What's wrong?"

Christine sighed and glanced around to make sure that none of the other girls were listening. "Do you believe in angels?"

"Of course, why do you ask?"

Christine looked around once more before leaning in closer to Sara. "I think my father sent the Angel of Music to me today." Christine said.

Sara's jaw dropped, Christine always spoke of how her father promised to send her an Angel to guide her. Before today, she would have thought that Christine was making it up, searching for some way to bring herself the comfort that she was constantly looking for. But now, she knew who Christine was speaking of. It wasn't any Angel, but Erik, continuing the search for someone to love him.

Christine took Sara's shock as one of disbelief. "Christine, did the Angel tell you his name?"

Christine gave her friend an odd look. "No, he only said that he was the Angel of Music come to guide me. Why would you ask if he told me his name?"

Sara shrugged, looking away from Christine. "No reason."