A/N: Short again. But I just had to end it like this. Nothing else for it. Thanks for reviews! Don't stop. Read on.

Ryan had an alibi. Of course. For the holiday, he'd stayed with his parents, sister and brother. Naturally they would vouch for him. His father had designed the software that ran in nearly every business in the city, the whole country perhaps. Even if Ryan openly admitted to the crimes, which he didn't, the family could just throw their name around, and he'd have no charges against him. The police didn't spend too much time trying to break him. He was immovable. They didn't even search his home, or car. Erik was not pleased, and that was the understatement of the year.

After her few days' stay in the animal hospital, Lucy recovered fully; only a very slight limp reminded them of the incident. She was back to playing catch in no time. Erik took care to reinforce his locks and overall security of his apartment. Nothing of that sort would be happening to him again.

Rehearsal had begun for Erik's opera, which meant extra long days for both of them. They had a tough time adjusting to their new schedules, but they managed to find time for Christine's singing lesson every day still. Erik still kept on his toes. Christine had heard and seen nothing of Ryan since the whole police incident. And Erik was glad of it. Generally Erik tended to stick with her, even if it was to the crowded mall with Giry.

It was opening night for Don Juan Triumphant. They had had a month and a half of peace. No notes. No bricks. Absolutely nothing out of the ordinary. The theater was sold out. Erik couldn't help but be excited. He would at last get to see Christine as Aminta. His only regret was that he couldn't be her Don Juan. What he wouldn't give to be able to perform with her.

Unfortunately that could not happen. Even though his Don Juan was masked, the mask did eventually come off, and he knew he couldn't bear that. He could just be content to watch her as Aminta. Erik knew she was singing for him anyways.

Erik watched as the seats filled from his box. Unfortunately he wasn't watching closely enough. Ryan had purchased a ticket. He sat in the shadows on the lower level. His eyes never left the box where he knew the masked man sat. Reclining in his chair, he waited patiently for the show to start.

Erik smiled as the Giry's made their way to the front of the auditorium. The younger Giry spotted Erik, then jumped and waved at him. He nodded, smiled despite himself and waved back. Erik sat as the lights began to dim. The crowd hushed and the orchestra started playing his overture. Loud cacophonous sounds filled the place. Erik gulped as his work was put on display for hundreds of people. No one got up and left as far as he could tell. That was a good sign.

Soon Christine graced the stage, waiting for her cue. Her eyes flitted up toward Erik's box; he smiled and brought a fist to his heart. She smiled, her eyes sliding back toward her flower basket, which contained, of course, dark red roses.

During the intermission, Erik was pleasantly surprised to hear such praise for his opera. Christine was most definitely going to be a star. He spotted his managers and received a thumbs-up. Erik grinned as he made his way back to his box. He wasn't one to particularly care for other people's opinions, but his heart swelled with pride he hadn't felt in years. Proud of himself, and his Christine. Things couldn't be better.

The second act was just as well received as the first, if not better. There was a standing ovation, and the managers cornered him before he could run off to see Christine. About a half hour later, Erik finally escaped the conversation.

Cast members still covered in make-up and half in costume littered the backstage area, congratulating each other, giving each other praise. Erik stopped to talk to a few before making his way to the diva's dressing room. One last chorus member stopped to talk to him before he knocked.

And knocked.

And knocked again.

There was no answer. No sound from within.

Quickly he pushed the door open to find the costume there, but not the singer.

"Christine?" He called out, though there was little place for her to be. He rushed back out into the busy hallway. No one had seen her leave. Pulling his small cell phone out, he dialed hers. It rang from the small dressing table inside the room. Swearing, he ran out into the night.

In an instant he felt a sharp pain in the back of his head, and then darkness.