Luc himself started to believe that everything about the Phantom was indeed a dream: it seemed too bizarre to be real. And just like Madame Giry said, men don't return from the dead. Just as he was leaving the opera house, rummaging in his jacket pockets for change to pay the carriage which was going to drive him home, his fingers felt something that he knew wasn't there before. He took it out, and saw that it was an envelope lined with black, sealed with a skull-shaped seal. On the back the letters "c/o Mnsr. Luc Reyer" were written in elegant, swirly letters.

"Will you be getting in, Monsieur?" the driver asked him, but Luc had already turned around and marched up the steps of the opera house. The driver muttered something rude about wool-gathering customers, and cracked his whip at the horses.

Meanwhile, Luc had broken the seal and read the letter. He made his way through the now dark corridors of the opera house, carrying a candle-stick in his hand which illuminated his surroundings. Finally, he came to the door he was looking for. Out of his pocket, he took out the set of keys to all the doors in the Opera Populaire which he always carried with him, picked the right one and unlocked the door.

He remembered how Madame Giry strictly forbid anyone from the ensemble to enter this dressing room. The old dressing room was covered in dust, and his reflection in the large mirror which stood directly opposite the door seemed to be looking at him from a thick layer of mist. This was Christine Daaé's old dressing room, and that was the mirror the Phantom used to tutor her and speak to her as the mysterious "angel of music". Luc approached the mirror and ran his hand across it to wipe away the dust. And then, on the other side of the mirror, another hand followed his .

Luc quickly pulled away his hand from the mirror, as if it was burned. The Phantom's face stared down at him from the other side.

"Am I that revolting to you, Monsieur?" the Phantom said.

"I--" Luc began.

"You don't have to apologise," the Phantom said, "I know what you think of me. All I ever did was out of love. But you still think I am a monster. Maybe you are right!" The Phantom's silhouette retreated into darkness, and all Luc could see now was the faint outline of his mask. "I can help you with your predicament, Monsieur. If my orders are obeyed."

"What do you want from me?" Luc asked.

"I want, Monsieur, for you to bring me Christine Daaé," the Phantom hissed.

"She is now Christine de Chagny," Luc said with resignation. The Phantom spoke again, his voice shaking with anger.

"That doesn't matter. You will call Christine to sing the role of Euridice on the gala night, and she will come. If she comes with the Vicomte, yet the better." The Phantom slammed his fist on the glass, and Luc jumped backwards. "The music of the night will continue, Monsieur Reyer!" he growled, and vanished, leaving Luc standing alone in the dark room, the only thing keeping him company his own reflection in the mirror.

Luc felt as darkness extended its cold fingers towards him, creeping up all around him, and icy dread filled his thoughts as the empty room creaked in the darkness. As quick as he could, he went to the door, opened it, went out, shut it behind him, and hastily locked it. Resting his back on the wall, he let the warm yellow light of the corridor overflow his senses, as colour slowly returned to his cheeks.

Then he heard footsteps, delicate, soft and barely audible on the thick and dusty carpets. He regained his composure, ready if it was the Phantom again. Whoever it was, the person was carrying a candle, making their shadow erratically bob across the walls as the flame flickered. Luc hid behind a column in the hallway, prepared to jump at the person as they came level with him, and watched as, on the wall opposite, the candlelight came ever closer. Luc held his breath as the person paused just a few steps away from him. There... only a moment now...

Just as the person was about to come level with him, Luc jumped out of his hiding place, grabbed the person by the wrists to stop them from trying to hit him, and pinned them to the wall. The person dropped the candle and screamed. And then, they recognised each other.

"Miss Giry?" Luc said, surprised, and let go of her, embarrassed.

"Luc--" Meg realized her mistake, and corrected it, "I mean, Monsieur Reyer? What... I thought everyone has gone home?" She gave him the kind of scornful look so like her mother's that Luc almost laughed, for it didn't suit little Meg at all. "It's past midnight, Monsieur. What are you doing, wandering through the opera alone?"

"I could ask you the same thing," Luc said. Meg blushed.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," they said at the same time.

"Maybe I would," Luc said, smiling, feeling the ominous presence of the Phantom melt away from his thoughts.

"Well, Monsieur," Meg said, searching her dress - Luc saw that she was dressed only in a wispy white nightgown, "tonight I found this under my bed sheets." She gave to him an envelope lined with black, sealed with a skull-shaped seal, just like the one he found in his jacket. He opened the envelope and read the note:

"Dear Mademoiselle Giry,

a note of praise: I have been acquainted with your singing talent, and wish to hear your further vocal abilities. I will be waiting for you in Christine Daaé's old dressing room east of the stage, ten minutes after midnight tonight. I would be delighted if you could bless me with your presence again.

Your obedient servant,

O.G."

Luc looked up at Meg, and took out his own letter.

"It was this which made me come here," he said to her. "I found it in my jacket just after leaving the opera."

His note read:

"Dear Reyer,

I have come to see that your ability in picking divas doesn't match your conducting. Carlotta cannot sing for her life, which was proved on the latest edition of "The Magic Flute". I am willing to offer you a new soprano, far better than anyone you've heard. Then Señora Giudicelli can get back to yodelling in taverns, the only place which still welcomes the croaking you call singing. If you are interested, I will be waiting for you in Christine Daaé's old dressing room east of the stage at midnight tonight.

Sincerely,

O.G."

"What did he want?" Meg asked.

"He wants Christine to sing as Euridice tomorrow..."

"Mon Dieu! " Meg exclaimed. "Monsieur, you can't let him have his way! He will take Christine with him... and we will never see her again!"

"I know, but what can I do?" Luc said. "Carlotta lost her voice, and I have no leading soprano for the opera!" And then, the thought hit him. He couldn't realize how he hadn't seen it before. He was so happy he took Meg's hand and kissed it.

"Meg!" he said, "I have been blind!" She looked at him, not understanding. "You will sing Euridice! You have a wonderful voice: I'm sure you will sing it heavenly!" Meg didn't seem half as pleased as he did. In fact, she was pale.

"But, Monsieur... what about the Phantom?" she asked.

"The Phantom is a shell of what he once was, Meg," Luc said, frowning. "He cannot threaten us. I will not allow him to destroy the opera." His frown turned into a fatigued smile. "Now, come; enough of these dark thoughts. Let me escort you back to your room." He took the candle-stick from her hand and they disappeared around a corner.

Behind a pillar, there was the rustle of a cape. The Phantom's masked face looked after the departing glow of the candle, his eyes blazing with anger.

"Who scorn his words, beware to those, " he sang in a whisper, "the angel sees, the angel knows! "