Chapter Summary: Raoul watches as his wife and family begin to fall apart. Another letter is sent, a rose is delivered and the truth is finally told

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Raoul found that he could not sleep. He lay quietly in the bed he shared with his wife, eyes closed, replaying the events of the last days, trying to still the fear growing in his heart and mind. They had thought themselves safe and happy for too long; he should have known it could not have lasted. He had always known that Erik would come back but Raoul had thought it would be for his wife. Now with the arrival of the sheet music and the party mask, it appeared as if The Phantom had, indeed, returned and not for his wife but for his daughter. It was a thought that chilled Raoul to his very soul. He began to roll over, reaching out for Christine, seeking the comfort of her arms, when he heard a strange humming. Raoul opened his eyes. Christine was standing at the window, her back to him, a taut silhouette in the bright moonlight. Her arms were wrapped tightly around her waist and she was humming.

"Christine?" Raoul tried.

The humming stopped. "He's still there, Raoul," Christine whispered into the darkness. "He still sings in my head. I thought he had gone away," she hung her head. "But he will never let me go. It will never be over."

His heart breaking for her, Raoul got out of bed to embrace his wife. He felt Christine stiffen at his touch and let her go.

"Now he wants to take my child from me," Christine continued, not even knowing that it was her husband who had reached out for her. "He will take her into his darkness and we will never see her again. She will be lost in the depths of Hell, listening to the music in her head, never knowing if there will be anyone to save her."

There was confusion mingling with the fear in his wife's mind of that Raoul was certain. Christine was talking almost as if Annalise were herself, all those years ago, on the night that the opera house had burned and Erik had forcibly taken her away in front of everyone. It had broken his heart then to see her caught up in Erik's spell, knowing that he had asked and convinced her to participate in their plan to catch him against her better instincts. He had been unable to do little but watch as events unfolded before him, the care of everyone present that night his responsibility. Now, though, it was just the two of them and Raoul, once again, reached for his wife, unwilling to let her go.

"Raoul," Christine said pitifully as she turned around to face him, "why? Why my baby? Why?"

It was a question for which he did not have an answer. Raoul looked into his wife's eyes as they searched his face, seeking, pleading for an answer to a question that terrified them both. It was a look he had seen before and had hoped to never see again and as Christine began to cry, Raoul drew her into his arms, letting her silently sob out her fears on his shoulder. All he could do was hold her and hope that it was some comfort for Raoul was unable to find any peace or comfort in his own soul.

He finally drew back, as Christine's shoulders stopped shaking and her breathing became easier. "It will be morning soon. We should try and get some rest," he told her. "Come."
He led her back to their bed, pulling her into his arms, drawing the summer linens around them. They lay there like that, lost in their own thoughts and fears, until the sun began to lighten the room, chasing away the cold fingers of the night.

While the bright summer sun had chased away the darkness of the night, it did little to chase away the lingering shadows that permeated the de Chagny home. There was an almost palpable tension in the air as if some unseen presence was haunting the very corridors. Christine, her face pale and drawn, would jump at every strange sound. Raoul remained in his study, papers unread before him, lost in the far recesses of old memories and unresolved feelings. Annalise and Gustave, forbidden from leaving their home, retreated to their own corners to watch as their parents became two individual ghosts who exchanged furtive glances and barely spoken words.

Annalise felt herself responsible for the strange and sad turn of events. She did not know what she had done wrong or who it was who had sent the odd gifts that had tossed her world upside down but she was certain it was her fault. She longed to speak with someone but knew that her parents were beyond her reach. She had looked to her brother but the frown on his face chased her away, up the stairs and into her bedroom. She sat down at her dressing table, fighting back the tears that were threatening. There seemed to be no one to whom she could turn. She opened the top drawer, reaching in and pulling out a handkerchief; it was then that she noticed the white handkerchief with the black edges and black embroidery. Suddenly Annalise knew to whom she could pour out her fears in safety. She eagerly took stationery from the box on the dressing table and began to write a letter.

Fifteen minutes later, she was signing her name with a sigh and reaching up to wipe away the tears that had never stopped all the while she had been writing. She was wiping away the moisture that had run onto her neck when she felt the delicate chain that rested there. Annalise gave a small smile as she undid the clasp, removing the chain and locket to hold them in her hands. She opened the locket and looked at the two miniatures hidden inside - one of her and one of her mother; the locket a gift from her father when she had turned sixteen but a year earlier. She slipped the locket into some tissue paper that she pulled from a drawer and placed the locket and letter into the envelope that she had addressed to Monsieur Pfieffer. Annalise stood, leaving her bedroom and walking down the stairs. She found her brother sulking in a chair by the front door.

"Have you seen Rachel?" she asked him.

Gustave looked at her. "Why? Do you think you are going to get out of here if you take your maid with you?"

"No," Annalise told him. "I know we cannot leave. I just want Rachel to post a letter for me."

"She'll need to take one of the footmen with her. Father has forbidden any female of this household to leave unless they have a male escort." Gustave narrowed his eyes at his sister. "And you cannot leave at all so do not even think about it."

"I was not thinking any such thing," Annalise told him as she turned to the footman who always waited by the door. "Can you find Rachel and bring her to me?" He stood and headed towards the back of the house. Annalise turned her attention back to her brother. "Are you going to sulk all day or would you like to come and play music with me? I am tired of crying and need something to cheer me."

"There is obviously nothing else we can do," Gustave said with a shrug as he stood. "I might as well join you."

"So now I am reduced to a 'might as well'?" Annalise wondered.

"You know I did not mean that."

Before Annalise could reply, Rachel and the footman came back. Annalise smiled at her maid and handed her the letter. "Can you please see that this gets posted today? And you will need to take someone with you as I am sure you have heard Father's orders."

Rachel took the envelope handed to her. "I shall fetch the carriage and an extra groom from the stables. I'll not be gone long." She dropped a small curtsey and was gone back the way she had come.

The footman was holding a long, thin box in his hands. "Mademoiselle," he addressed Annalise, "the housekeeper asked me to bring this. It was delivered to the service entrance and is addressed to you." He handed Annalise the box and resumed his seat by the front door.

"Not another gift," Annalise sighed, a touch of despair in her voice.

"Do you want me to open it?" Her brother asked.

Annalise handed him the box. "Please?"

Gustave removed the stop of the box, pulling out a single red rose with a black satin ribbon tied around the stem. "What kind of a person would send something like this?"

"Send something like what?" they heard a familiar female voice, full of apprehension, ask.

Brother and sister turned to see their mother standing in the hallway, a cup of tea in her hands. They saw her eyes widen at the sight of the rose in her son's hand, the cup and saucer slipping from her fingers to shatter on the marble tile. The sound of the breaking china brought their father from his study.

"What is wrong ..." Raoul began as he looked at the china pieces scattered beneath his feet. He saw his wife staring at her son and followed her gaze. It took but a moment for Raoul to react. He walked over to his son.

"Give me that," he ordered.

Gustave handed over the rose and the box. "Sir ..." he tried.

"Not a word," Raoul warned. He looked at his daughter. "From either of you, is that understood?" He looked at the footman. "You will send for Jean-Paul, Richard, their wives and children. They are to come here immediately. Tell them it is an order from me and I will accept no disobedience, is that clear?" The footman nodded and Raoul turned back to his children. "You will both sit on the chairs outside your mother's parlor and you will not move from there until I give you leave. Now go."

Annalise took the hand her brother offered and walked with him down the side hallway. She turned to look back and saw her father taking her mother into his arms, holding her tightly as she sank to the floor, her sobs echoing off the fine plaster walls. "It is only a rose," Annalise tried as she and brother sat on the two chairs opposite the door to the parlor.

"I have a funny feeling it is more than the rose or the mask or the music," Gustave told her. He looked up as Raoul led Christine into the parlor, closing the doors behind them. "And I think we had better sit here quietly until they are ready to tell us what is going on."

So they sat for the better part of an hour, listening to the words that drifted through the closed doors, struggling to understand what little they could hear.

"But we promised!" Christine said.

"I don't care!" Raoul replied.

"He let you go! He let us go!"

"He wants to take our daughter!"

"What if he kills you this time?"

"I don't care."

"I do!"

The words were frightening and Annalise reached out for her brother's hand, looking up as she heard footsteps coming down the hall. Jean-Paul and Richard, their wives by their sides, had arrived.

"What is happening?" Richard asked as he noted the strain on the faces of his younger brother and sister.

The parlor door opened and Raoul came out. "Good," he addressed his older sons, "you have arrived. I need you all to come and have a seat. There is something your mother and I must tell you." He stood aside, letting his children enter the sunny parlor. "Where are Chloe and Bertrand?"

"We sent them up to the nursery," Leonie replied. "Is that not what we should have done?"

Raoul favored his daughter-in-law with a slight smile and touch of his hand upon her arm. "It is fine," he told her, closing the door. He turned to face the room, noting that all of the children had taken a seat. He went to stand behind the chair in which Christine sat, taking her hand as she reached over her shoulder for the comfort of his familiar touch. "There is something that all of you need to know. It is something that we had hoped you would never need to know but the events of the last few days, the music, the mask and, now, the rose with the black ribbon, have necessitated breaking a vow that your mother made long ago."

Christine could not look at her children and turned her eyes to the fireplace. "I promised to never tell," she whispered softly. "I promised him I would never tell." It seemed to her family that she was struggling with inner demons.

"I want each of you to just sit quietly and listen," Raoul told them as he took a deep sigh. "You all know the story of how your mother and I met and the fire that destroyed the opera house. I am sure you have heard the whispers that float about regarding other events the night of the fire. It is time you know the truth behind those whispers." He reached down his free hand to place it gently on Christine's shoulder. "The legends of the opera ghost are true. There really was a Phantom of the Opera."

There was a stunned silence in the room.

"There was a man who had been hidden in the tunnels under the opera house when he was just a young boy," Raoul continued. "He had been born with a deformity and was rescued by Madame Giry from the gypsies when they were both little more than children. "

Annalise found she could not lift her eyes to look at her parents.

Raoul continued, "He lived his whole life in those tunnels and when your mother came to live at the opera house, he saw her and knew she was mourning the loss of her father. He let her believe he was the angel her father had promised her and began to teach her to sing. This ghost … this phantom … had a name. His name was Erik."

No one noticed that Annalise had stopped breathing or that her hands were clasped so tightly that her knuckles were turning white.

Christine picked up the story, filling in the pieces that she had lived through. "You know that your father and I had met when we were small children and never saw each after that summer. When I saw your father again – that night at the opera house – he was so sweet and came to me as a friend and not as the opera's patron. He was kind and gracious and everything I would have expected him to be. We did not know that Erik was watching us through the mirror in the dressing room and that he looked upon your father as intruding upon what he regarding as his possession." Christine continued to stare into the fireplace. "He killed a stagehand, he poisoned another woman's vocal cords so that she could not sing and I would take her place and he was furious with your father for having dared to fall in love with me."

"It was so easy to fall in love with your mother," Raoul told them. "I asked her to marry me and she said yes but insisted that our engagement remain a secret."

"I wore your father's engagement ring on a chain around my neck." Christine bit her bottom lip. "I think, even then, I know something would happen. There was a masked ball held at the opera house to celebrate the new season. Erik appeared and tore your father's engagement ring from my neck saying that I was still his." She hung her head. "I think it was then that I began to know he was not my father returned to me. I went to the cemetery to say goodbye to your grandfather and he was there. Erik would have taken me away at that moment but your father had followed us. There was a fight and your father was wounded."

"It was nothing," Raoul said, glossing over the extent of the fight.

"We got away," Christine said, "and your father came up with a plan to capture Erik. My teacher …" She struggled with the tears that threatened to overwhelm her, "had hurt too many people for him to continue on the way he had been. It was your father's responsibility as patron to ensure the safety of everyone there."

"I loved your mother and wanted to see her free of him." Raoul added as he closed his eyes and shook his head. "He had written an opera for your mother and we knew that if she sang, he would not be able to stay away. It was our chance to capture him and see justice done."

"I did not want to do it," Christine breathed softly. "Erik had been my friend, my teacher, my mentor. I did not want to betray him. I was frightened of what he would do when he found out I was the one who had betrayed him but what choice did I have? What choice did I have?" The strain of recalling the events of those final days was beginning to show on her face.

"Christine," Raoul whispered only to her, "it's enough. We can stop here."

"No," Christine told him emphatically, shaking her head. "No. If I am going to break my promise to him, they must know the whole story." She rose to her feet. "I sang that night and Erik came and I fell under his spell again. It was not until he sang your father's words to me that I knew which man held me in his arms. I turned to my teacher … my friend … and … and …" She took a deep breath to steady herself. "I took off the mask he wore, exposing him to everyone. He was furious! He cut the rope to the chandelier and plunged us both through a trap door and into the catacombs of the opera house." She turned to look at her husband. "Your father followed us and nearly drowned in one of the traps set throughout that underground hell." She shuddered as she remembered hearing Raoul tell her of falling through the trapdoor, into the water, the falling grate pushing him under.

"Christine," Raoul tried.

"No!" she nearly shouted. "They need to hear it and I need to say it!" She turned back to her children. "Erik nearly killed your father that night. When your father appeared at the place I was being held, Erik opened the gate to let your father in," Christine raised her hands to her face. "Only it was a trap. Erik surprised your father, flinging a noose around his neck, tying him to that gate, telling me I needed to choose. If I chose your father, Erik would kill him and I could go free; that freedom, though, meant I would have to back to Erik and he knew that. If I chose Erik, he would let your father go but I would need to stay. No matter what I did, I could not win." Christine choked back a sob, closing her eyes. "Your father begged me not to throw away my chance at life while my ..." her voice broke, "teacher, the man who inspired me, the man I thought was my dearest friend kept pulling that noose tighter and tighter. One man was willing to die for me and one was willing to kill for me. What choice did I have?"

Words spoken separately by each parent now made sense to both Annalise and Gustave.

Raoul turned around to look into the empty fireplace, hiding his emotions from the children he so loved.

Christine shook her head sadly. "I had no choice. I went to this man who had given me so very much but would gladly have taken away the one thing I loved most in the world and I tried to show Erik what it was like to be loved. I embraced him like a lover, trying to show him, convince him that he was not alone. I would have done anything at that point to save your father's life."

"He let us go," Raoul added softly. "He made your mother promise to never say a word about what happened and he let us go." He turned back to the room, reaching for the hand that Christine held out to him.

"I made your father promise to keep the same vow," Christine said. "He has honored my request for all these years."

Raoul looked at his wife, managing a small smile. "I could do no less after what you had done for me." He drew his gaze away from Christine to look at the shocked and stunned faces of their children. "But, now, with the arrival of the music that your mother sang the first night we met again after all those years; the mask that so resembles the one she had the night of the masked ball and the rose tied with a black ribbon that was always Erik's signature to her - all of these things make us think he has come back."

Raoul looked at his daughter, her eyes downcast, cheeks pale, the one child in the room who was not looking at them. He knew she would be affected by what she had heard. Raoul had no idea just how deeply affected Annalise was by their words or the turmoil that raged just beneath her surface. He swallowed hard and gripped his wife's hand tighter.

"It looks like he has come back," Raoul began. "And we are afraid that it is Annalise he wants this time."