Gaston left the office in a daze.

Ghosts!

Mon Dieu, this was certainly not what he had sought. His research had pointed him quite objectively in the direction that the Opera Ghost was a living, breathing man, not a true spectre! His leather portfolio now felt silly and useless. The smooth, brown surface was warm and aromatic. He was about to throw it down onto the ground, when a few tiny voices called, "Monsieur, Monsieur!"

A handful of little ballet rats were dance-running down the corridor, dressed in their white practice frocks, their hair either pulled back into a bun or down and frizzy. The sight of loose brown hair took him back instantly to that night: Where are you, mon ange? His heart swelled at the memory of her sobs.

The girls gathered around him innocently, like small chicks. "Monsieur, are you going to write about the ghost?"

Gaston sighed. "I-I was. But it was a different ghost."

"Oh, but you must write about the Angel in Hell."

That name. A shiver ran across his arms. He had heard it just earlier. "The Angel―?"

"Mais oui, M'sieur!" one of them chirped. "We all hear her at night, singing for her lost love. They say she was a diva here, years ago―"

Chaos erupted. The chattering of young girls' gossip filled the hallway.

"She fell in love with a musician―a violinist!"

"No, it was an organist―"

"No, you're wrong, he was a penniless composer!"

"He locked her up―"

"She was engaged to a rich patron―"

and he killed her." This last phrase was spoken with such vehemence, the ballerinas fell silent for a moment. "He was a monster, you know."

"There's no such thing!"

"Well, if ghosts can exists, monsters can, too!"

"Girls!" interrupted a sharp voice. "Allez, allez, allez! Maintenant!" The ballet mistress rapped her cane on the floor, and the ballet rats all scrambled away, toward the auditorium. She gave the reporter a scrutinizing look before passing him. No, this woman was not the cool, dark Madame Giry he had encountered.

Dead.

The thought came again. So there were several ghosts in need of explanation. The Angel in Hell, the former ballet mistress, and the Phantom of the Opera.

Where do I go from here? he wondered. Then, he knew.