When I woke up, with the sky resembling the night far more than the morning, I could think only of singing. I sang boldly, loudly, not caring if the whole world heard.

I did not hear my door swing open.

I did not hear his footsteps across my floor.

I did not realize anyone was there until I felt someone tap me on the shoulder.

I jumped and spun around.

One, enormous shade in the darkness! A menacing shadow in my house! A criminal! A murderer! A kidnapper! I would be killed!

"Lotte," said the shadow.

I looked closer, and in the dim candlelight, I could see it was Daaé. At his side was Christine (still clutching my doll!).

"Good morning," I said uncertainly. I felt embarrassed and annoyed that the two had caught me in this moment of practice for my Angel of Music. Practicing had become a private thing for me, and I felt uncomfortable when outsiders caught me singing for my Angel. I wished they would just leave me with my music.

"We woke to hear you singing," Daaé said.

My hand flew to my mouth. I truly had not realized I had sung so loudly! How thoughtless of me, to disturb my guests! I began apologizing profusely, but Daaé shook his head.

"Do not apologize! It was a blessing to hear you sing. I was quite impressed. Never have I heard such talent! How did you learn to sing like that?"

I did not know what to say. I had never told anyone of the Angel of Music. No one knew, aside from Mama and Papa. I looked from Daaé to Christine, who stared at me solemnly while, to my dismay, crushing my doll in her hands.

"Why do you ask?" I stalled.

"You sing beautifully! You are well off, a middle class girl, and surely you've been instructed. Have you been trained? Do you take lessons?"

"No, I do not." Not formal lessons with a physical being, at least.

"Then how did you learn to sing so well?"

I realized my blunder in not admitting to taking any lessons. True, I never had; but my confession would only heighten his curiosity. I should have lied! But… lying was wrong, was it not? Was it not a sin? I could not sin. Yet, another sin wouldn't hurt, would it? Just another-

What could I say? He would take me for a madwoman! Yet I was a madwoman already! Yet he was a stranger, he would leave soon, I would never see him again, so my secret would be safe! And surely, he would die, and my secret would die with him! Fools don't live long!

But what if he did live long? What if somehow this man got lucky and lived to tell the tale of the madwoman he met? That would never do. I could not tell him. No, I could not-

"That night, I had been dreaming. I dreamt of something so powerful, that I soon woke, unable to return to sleep" I said, hardly realizing I was speaking. Confound my mind at this hour! It seemed I had no control over myself in the shade of the night! "I dream of the same thing nearly every night, actually." I hesitated, and scrutinized Daaé's face for any signs of doubt or skepticism. The slightest flinch, the smallest smirk, and I would cease to tell my unlikely fairy tale.

"Please continue," said Daaé, taking a step forward.

"I cannot tell you. You will think me mad."

"I won't! The madder the story, the more I shall believe!" Daaé said, smiling, and I knew that this simple man would. His eyes glowed not only from the dim candlelight, but also from genuine, almost child-like interest. He took a seat in a chair by my desk, and sat Christine on my bed.

I hesitated, then said, "Sometimes, when I go to sleep, I hear an Angel of Music in my dreams. The first time I heard him was when I was just a baby sleeping in my crib; I remember it so clearly! I heard a beautiful, almost celestial voice. It was something I had never heard before. I have never seen him, but I shall never forget his music. When I wake up now, sometimes I find that I must sing these songs to relieve my mind of them. Such was the case the other night…" I finished vaguely. I would certainly not tell him of my other habits!

Daaé did not stare at me strangely. He looked completely serious, and awestruck.

"And is it… an enjoyable thing? Is it painful to hear him?"

I laughed aloud. "Painful! Certainly not! No, what I love most is to go to sleep and hear the Angel of Music in my head!"

"And this is how you have learned to sing like an angel?"

"If you insist on terming it that way, then yes."

"Did you hear that, Christine?" said Daaé excitedly. "An Angel of Music!" He sighed, and said, "If only your Angel came to me or my Christine! Do others hear him, or is he yours alone?"

I shrugged. What sort of question was that? Of course only I heard my Angel. He was my Angel, after all! But, I would humor the poor man – and even insult him and his unruly daughter in the process!

"No, sir, I am certain he comes to others, but only to those who are meant to hear him. And he only comes when they least expect him to, usually when they are sad and depressed and they can scarcely believe in a miracle. When he does come, he arrives at all ages, even to young children. But only to good little boys and girls," and here I cast an invisible smirk in the dark in Christine's direction. "Yet sometimes he does come to young children, which is why there are such talented young geniuses out there! Other times he waits for the child to grow up and mature. And then in a few sad cases, he will never arrive if the person is truly dreadful, or has a terrible heart or conscience." Those last few words were aimed at Daaé, for, in my opinion, he had no heart or conscience if he forced his daughter to live such a wretched life!

Daaé nodded, eyes alight. He accepted my every word so acceptingly! He did not even question how I had deduced all that knowledge; obviously a young girl such as myself would not have had the time to tour the world and discover all of the different geniuses who had been touched by an angel! I nearly laughed at the gullible fool.

"Oh, Christine, just think of it, he may come to you! You must be good, darling!"

I feigned a loud cough for a derisive snort. Christine? Good? She treated my doll horribly; there was no way my angel, who always expected me to take good care of my doll, would approach her!

Daaé's next words nearly stopped my heart.

"Lotte, you are so lucky to be one of the few who hears this Angel! You could be great someday! Why then do you stay inside this house? Where are your parents? Surely you could simply walk out now and build your own career!"

It was precisely what I had been thinking. Why did I not leave? My doll had always told me to run away, to free myself. I had the skill, the talent to provide for myself. Papa and Mama weren't even here now; this was the perfect time to flee!

I knew the answer. I simply wasn't brave enough to take that final leap in the air, to fly away from my nest. I was a middle class European girl, and ever since I was a small child, I had been drilled to prepare myself for marriage and my husband. I simply could not imagine a life on the road and the streets, singing for a living. I expected a safe marriage to a good husband, not an independent life fighting for my living! And while I lived under the safe wings of my parents, I did not dare-

My parents! When would my parents return? Today! No, not today! Yesterday! They were due to arrive now! Now! And they had instructed me specifically to let no one in the house! What had I done? I had let someone in the house, a man and beggar, no less!

"My parents are coming back today!" I said aloud in my distress.

Daaé's face fell. "I was looking forward to meeting them, Lotte, but today Christine and I are leaving, and so-"

"Wait – you are leaving?"

"The weather has cleared, and Christine and I shan't be a burden on you any longer." Daaé got up from the chair and plucked Christine off the bed. "Come now, Christine, leave Little Lotte's doll here. It is hers."

In the lightening sky, I noticed for the first time that Daaé and Christine were now wearing their old, tattered rags and traveling cloaks. How had I missed that? They were leaving! They were leaving, and I would not have to provide for them the rest of my life!

Christine stepped forward to hand me back my doll, but then I had an idea. An idea that seemed quite right and noble at the time, but in the back of my head I had a vague feeling I would regret it.

"Christine, keep my doll," I said. "You need her far more than I do."

Then, all at once:

"Really?" said Christine.

"Lotte! What are you doing?" shouted my doll in alarm.

"Yes," I said, not answering my doll. "But, could I have a word with her for a moment?" I added to Christine.

Christine looked to her father for help, and when he nodded, a bit mystified, she handed the doll to me.

"This is the only way," I whispered to my doll, my back turned towards them. "We agree that Christine must learn to fly on her own. You can teach her as you have taught me!"

"No, no, no, Lotte," said my doll, not bothering to keep her voice down. I glanced nervously at the Daaés, but they simply stared blankly. "She is a deaf girl, she will not hear anything I have to say. Look, she cannot hear me now! I cannot teach a student who has no will to act independently, a student whose mind is not her own. This is a foolish idea, you still need me; you still have so much to learn!"

"She needs you more than I," I insisted in a hushed tone, and with that, I turned back around and shoved my doll into Christine's hands. She smiled, pleased to have acquired a new friend.

"Come along, Christine, you shall keep the doll. We must be on our way now!" With that, Daaé and Christine made their way to the door, with my best friend in the world wailing in Christine's hands. I felt terribly guilty, but it was the only thing I could do!

They finally stopped at the door, and Daaé turned around to address me one last time. "I cannot express how thankful I am of your hospitality. Few would have taken us in, and I'm certain that without your help, Christine would have died." Daaé shivered at the thought. "I will always be grateful for your kindness, Little Lotte, and for your doll and your story of the Angel of Music! Really, you were too kind! I will make certain that Christine will always remember you, for I will always tell her your story!"

I ignored the man's babbling, distracted by my doll's crying. No tears poured down her face, she was incapable of moving, of fending for herself, but she controlled her mind, her feelings, and she wept without tears now.

Daaé extended a hand, and mechanically I shook it. Then he pushed Christine forward to shake hands with me. I took Christine's hand in mine, then let go.

"Thank you, again, Little Lotte…"

Then they were gone.