"Why did I come here," she said to herself as she stepped over a bit of twisted metal. A strand of broken crystals…no doubt from the fallen chandelier glimmer faintly in a pile of dust.
What do I hope to find here…after all these months with no word, no sign…nothing. The gendarmes found no sign of them after the fire…
For a moment, it seemed she heard footsteps echoing faintly…but they were so soft she could not tell where they came from…above her…behind her.
There is no one here…only ghosts and memories…
No, there were no footsteps…only a faint rasping sound…a scurrying rat, perhaps…
Were they still here…lost somewhere in this wrecked opera house…two bodies twisted together for eternity?
For Maman's sake…I must know what became of him…
He watched her from behind the proscenium arch, watched as she gently poked at a bit of broken scenery…a large plaster head…with the toe of her elegant black boot.
He had never seen this woman before. He was certain of that.
After all, there had been so few women in his life…the mother who had rejected him…the ballet girl who'd given his shelter in this very theater…the Khanum who delighted in taunting him with her cruel requests…and Christine…
Yet this woman with her honey-brown hair and refined features was too familiar to be a stranger.
Where had he seen her before? Why did he feel as if they had met before?
She looked around the auditorium one last time. It was futile to look for them here.
She turned with a dejected shrug, her heavy skirt rasping against the rough boards.
And she found a man standing before her…scarcely a foot away.
A tall man in a black cloak and a white mask.
This is the Opera Ghost, then…this is the man they called a Phantom.
He waited for the woman to scream…to flee in horror…to slump down at his feet in a dead faint.
She did not and he watched, feeling a vague stir of admiration, as she stiffened her shoulders against her fear.
So unlike those little ballet tarts and silly chorus girls who would shriek in terror and scatter if his presence was even hinted at.