A/N: My dear readers…this is my farewell. I am riding off with my Erik. He loves me, I love him…my days could not be any brighter. I thank you all for your kind words. It has filled my heart with joy and love.

Enjoy the last chapter. I hope that you will enjoy 'Into the Mind's Eye' which will take you on a whole new journey. It will be posted some time tomorrow. Keep reading, smiling, and above all else…remember your future is what you make of it. There is a little bit of Erik with all of us.

The stage is yours as the curtain falls.

With much love,

Angelina

PS…Erik wished for me to leave you with a song. It is not his but Monsieur Josh Groban's. He has been an inspiration to Phoenix throughout this story. Erik feels that the song at the end captures the essence of 'From the Light…Into Darkness'. Enjoy…

Chapter 53 – The Story Retold

The house had grown empty and cold. All Raoul could do was stare out the window and watch the rain fall. It had fallen ever since he had visited Christine's grave. The sight of the rose still haunted him as did the letter from his daughter.

Dearest Father,

I have heard of Mother's death. I am saddened by her passing. Know that my thoughts and prayers are with you wherever I am. I am always with you in both spirit and heart. I love you, Father. I always will.

Angelina

He had not seen her since the night of her disappearance. It troubled him to know that she could be anywhere in the world. And what was worse was that she was with him. The man had not only claimed a piece of Christine's heart but all of Angelina's.

"Sir?"

Raoul turned in his chair and looked at his assistant standing in the doorway.

"What is it?"

"A young woman is here to see you. She said to give you the name of Angelina de Chagny."

Raoul's eyes widened at the name spoken. "Show her in!"

His assistant quickly moved away as a beautiful woman stood in the doorway.

"Hello, father."

The same graceful features were present, but Raoul noticed how much she had grown. She no longer had the baby face he loved but the face of a beautiful woman. Her hair had begun to show gray around the edges but the red was still bright as ever. Her frame was still petite and her walk was still that of a ballerina.

"Angelina…"

He tried to stand but the weakness in his legs would not allow him.

"I will come to you."

Raoul watched her graceful walk over and felt the light touch of her lips on his cheek. A tear rolled down his cheek as she sat down next to him.

"You have come." He thought of why. "He let you come see me about your mother?"

"He is dead."

Raoul looked at the sadness in her face. She was not lying to him. The man he despised had left the world in peace.

"Erik died only several days after mother did." Tears streamed down her cheeks. "I thought you would want to know that the Phantom is dead."

Raoul did not know if he was relieved at the fact that his nemesis was gone. "I am sorry, Angelina."

"Do not mock me, father. I know the hatred you possess in your heart for him."

"You do not know what he put your mother and me through."

"What I do know is that he loved me with every fiber of his being. Both you and mother did everything you could to stop it. But it was there whether you wanted to believe it or not."

"Angelina…"

"I am a widower, just like you. I wish to mourn for my husband in peace, father. I did not come here to argue about what happened."

Solemnly nodding his head, his eyes looked at his little girl. "You have grown into a beautiful woman."

"Thank you." She looked at her father restricted to a wheelchair. "I heard about your accident. I wish I could have been here sooner."

"I was glad you did not see me in the state I was in. I did not want your mother to see me but she endured my tirades."

Silence hung between them. There were so many things to say but neither knew how to say them.

"I want to know the tale."

Raoul looked at Angelina. Her eyes met his. Kneeling before him, Angelina looked at her father with a longing that he had never seen before.

"I want you to tell me the tale of the Phantom of the Opera." All she wanted to know was what everyone hated about Erik. He was so loving and kind toward her. She did not understand. "Tell me everything. He has told me his side and I wish to know yours."

"There is nothing to tell, Angelina."

"There is plenty to tell. I wish to know it. I want his memory kept intact."

"Where have you been?" He quickly changed the subject. Memories were not something he wanted to delve into. Christine's death was still fresh in his heart. They would reopen wounds he had closed long ago.

"Where have I been?"

"I have not seen you in years and here you are. I ask again: where have you been?"

"I have been all over the world: London, Rome, Madrid, and the Americas." She smiled as she began to remember the adventures they had gone on. "Erik was a great composer. His music became famous. I was his outlet – the only way the world would hear it." There was a long pause before she continued. "And the world trembled at his feet."

Silence seemed to want to suffocate them as if they were in a tomb. Raoul did not question Erik's talent. It was his methods that he questioned. Wanting to tell Angelina everything, he withheld, not wanting to destroy the memory of the man she loved. Their gazes met once again.

"You are avoiding my question."

"I do not wish to rehash a moment in my life that was not memorable."

"Tell me the tale of my husband!"

Raoul had never known his daughter to raise her voice. It was unlike anything he had ever experienced before. Whatever haunted her troubled him. Maybe Erik had told her to ask as his dying wish. She would certainly not reveal that to her father. They had shared a bond once. Maybe it was time…

"Fine, you wish to know the tale of the Phantom of the Opera, I will tell you. It is not the story he has told you."

"My opinion will not be swayed. I loved, and still love, my husband. Nothing will change that."

"Then I shall tell you the tale and let your opinion form in time." He took long deep breaths, preparing himself for the long tale of so long ago. He took Angelina's hand as she sat beside him once again. "It was Paris, 1870. The Opera Populaire was just bought by two new owners. It was to perform a production of Hannibal starring Carlotta Giudicelli. But it would not be performed by her; it would be performed by Paris's newest star: Christine Daae."

The End

You Raise Me Up

Lyrics by Brendan Graham
Music by Rolf Lovland
sung by Josh Groban

When I am down and, oh my soul, so weary
When troubles come and my heart burdened be
Then, I am still and wait here in the silence,
Until you come and sit awhile with me.

You raise me up, so I can stand on mountains
You raise me up, to walk on stormy seas
I am strong, when I am on your shoulders
You raise me up... to more than I can be.
You raise me up, so I can stand on mountains
You raise me up, to walk on stormy seas
I am strong, when I am on your shoulders
You raise me up... to more than I can be.

You raise me up, so I can stand on mountains
You raise me up, to walk on stormy seas
And I am strong, when I am on your shoulders
You raise me up... to more than I can be.
You raise me up... to more than I can be.