I wanted to give ya'll another chapter...since mine are always so brief. To those of you new to this story, please read Of the Stars first...only because this story will refer back to it a lot. Also, it will give you a better feel for my writing style, which is kind of weird. :)

Oh yeah...standard disclaimers. Would love to own POTO, but do not.

Enjoy! I hope you're as happy as I am that this story isn't over! (I'm so lame!)

-Nico


"What is she doing here?" Carlotta demanded, her shrill voice making Christine's skin crawl. "I will not be singing if she is here!"

Carlotta snatched a fluffy brown dog from one of her assistant's arms and held it tight to her chest, pouting.

"Mademoiselle Daee!" Monsieur Firmin suddenly emerged from the wings, Monsieur Andre close behind. "How wonderful to see you again!"

Christine slowly climbed up onto the stage, Madeline following closely behind. Her ex-managers each embraced her in turn, kissing each cheek politely.

"To what do we owe this pleasure?" Andre asked.

Carlotta harrumphed loudly from upstage.

"Actually she is here to see me," Madame Giry said, stepping forward to embrace Christine as well. "It is good to see you again," she said earnestly. She knelt down and craned her neck to see Madeline, who had been silent for the past several moments. "And it is good to meet you," Madame Giry said to her.

Madeline looked from the strange new woman to her mother. Christine smiled. "Go ahead darling. This is Madame Giry," she looked to the older woman, remembering all she had done for her…for Erik. "A very dear friend," she concluded.

Madeline continued to stare, her dark brown eyes narrowed slightly.

"I see so much of you," Madame Giry commented, straightening up again. "And also, so much of him."

Christine's smile widened. Few people knew of her marriage to Erik, or of Erik at all. She knew that most of the members of the Opera Populaire believed she had run away with a much older composer, content to live quietly in the rolling hills of the Paris countryside.

Well, thought Christine. They were more correct than they knew.

One of the people who knew the truth, however, was the blond girl in a tutu running at full force in Christine's direction.

"Christine!" She exclaimed, nearly knocking the brunette off her feet as she enveloped her friend in a tight embrace. "It's been too long!"

Christine laughed, not realizing just how much she had missed Meg. She pulled away. "Meg," she said, still laughing. "There is someone I would like you to meet."

She pulled Madeline in front of her. Meg clasped her hands over her mouth and then instantly pulled the small girl into another embrace.

Madeline turned her head to Christine, her eyes wide. "Mama?" She squeaked.

"This is your Aunt Meg," Christine explained. "The one who writes us the letters," she finished, hoping Madeline would remember the monthly correspondences exchanged between the friends.

A spark of recognition flared in Madeline's eyes. She turned to Meg."Mama gets sad when she reads your letters," the child informed her.

"Does she?" Meg asked, instantly charmed by the girl. Madeline nodded.

"She says she misses you and wants to visit but that it's not safe for Papa," she said.

"Madeline, hush now," Christine said as Meg lifted sad eyes to hers.

"I miss your Mama too," Meg said softly. "But I must say, she never told me how beautiful you are," she added, forcing her tone to once again be light.

Madeline giggled.

"Hello?" Carlotta's voice pierced the happy reunion. "I do not work with babies either," she informed Andre and Firmin, casting an evil glare in Madeline's direction.

Madeline stuck out her tongue.

"She is just like her mother!" Carlotta proclaimed. "Another Christine Daee, here to run me off the stage and back to America!"

And with a sweep of her embellished skirts, she dramatically left the stage, cursing in Italian the entire way.

The managers exchanged pained looks.

"Please excuse us, Miss Daee," Firmin bowed slightly.

"Of course," Christine said, feeling terribly sorry for the two men who rushed off to grovel at their one remaining diva's feet.

"Why have you returned, Christine?" Meg asked, used to the drama that was Carlotta.

Suddenly, Meg's expression changed. Her features literally fell into darkness. "Oh," she said softly. "I suppose you've heard…"

"Heard what?" Christine asked.

"Meg!" Madame Giry silenced her daughter.

Christine watched as mother and daughter exchanged glances.

"What is this all about?" Christine asked, a cold feeling creeping down her spine. "What's going on?"

Madame Giry looked back to the cast and down to the orchestra pit.

Everyone was staring, watching the scene unfold before them.

"Come," Madame Giry said, leading the way. "It is better we speak in private."