Sorry this took so loooooooong! I just moved and am still unpacking. I just hope I do this right.

Ch. 10: A Phantasy World No Longer

Part one

"Oh, God."

" I'm waiting, Erik. Explain this!" Raoul spat the word "this" like a disgusting curse word, roughly shaking Delight by the arm. The man in the cell threw himself against the bars of the degrading prison, bending a few bars in the process. "Don't touch her. Don't you dare touch her you goddamn son of a-" Raoul put up a hand to silence him, only making Erik all the angrier. Heaurs eagerly jammed the rest of his cheese danish. "I asked you a question. Answer me!" His visage was twisted with rage, an ugly portico of jealousy and mistrust. Delight was whimpering quietly. Her father noticed her arm was turning purple under Raoul's grip. It gave him pain to see the four of them in such a dire situation.

"I-I'm not saying a word without Christine."

Raoul flinched at his wife's name, but didn't say a word. Somewhere in his subconscious, he always imagined she had something to do with him even after their marriage. Without a word, he passed a small bag of coins to the fat policeman, who eagerly caught it like a hungry dog would a scrap of gristle. "Go. Bring her here. It's raining. She's probably at that little café near Rue de Fallise. Don't…harm her." Heaurs waddled out the door and left the three of them to the long, hateful silence ahead.

Christine ran through the streets, utilizing her basket of ruined baguettes as a crude umbrella. She searched frantically for a shelter from the pouring rain. It was late at night and the streets of Paris were, as the ruddy policeman had said, were not a guiltless friend. A familiar café presented itself and she gratefully ducked inside. It was deserted, apart from a pair of women whispering in the corner. The girl seated herself nearby the pair I hopes of joining their conversation. It was just too much to be alone at this point in her life, and there was really nobody she could talk to. This was quite literal, for Meg had buried herself in work around the opera house after Darryl stopped calling, much to everybody's immense surprise, Madame Giry was too emotionally emaciated to talk much, all of her friends prior to her marriage seemed to have drifted away, and the ones after her marriage were caught up in the rumor of her infidelity, and, well, you just couldn't talk to men, even ones you had once been intimate with.

An exhausted-looking waitress handed her a cold cup of tea. She nodded her thanks and sipped it with a look of forced enjoyment on her face. As she continued to force down the drink, Christine began to listen to the women's conversation.

"It's quite nice to be back in Paris, but I shall miss the lovely climate of Spain. The weather here is so dreary, Evelyn." Her sister nodded behind a mouthful of buttered croissant. "Too right you are. Can you believe it's already been six years since our brother was taken from us?" Indeed, both of the women were garbed in black mourning dresses and veils. Christine leaned closer, not noticing her tea spilling all over her calf.

"Oh, dear. How are we going to tell our baby brother that we've just up and come back to town? I think he still has a grudge against us for telling father that Philippe committed suicide. Poor Philippe did kill himself, but Raoul has this ludicrous story of some madman murdering him."

And suddenly, the sou dropped noisily in her head. These were Raoul's estranged sisters! Before she could creep quietly back into the night, they spotted her and zeroed in like a pair of raptors.

"Christine, dearest, is that you? Why are you lurking in the corner? Come here, you look chilled to the bone! Have some tea!" This was strange. Gladys and Evelyn were being kind to her. They were always kind to her, but she didn't expect this, not with the trouble between her and Raoul. They probably hadn't heard of such things yet.

"Gladys, stop stuffing your face and offer Christine some éclairs. You mustn't always eat until the chair breaks."

"Oh, do hush. Now, Christine, tell us what's news. How's Raoul?" They both looked at her with the same baby blue eyes that her husband had. "He's, uh, well," Her words got tangled on the tongue and refused to come out right. The de Chagney sisters had a look of calm patience on their faces, but all turned quickly in relief when the door swung open.

Heaurs strutted through the threshold, brandishing one of Christine's ruined baguettes like a rapier. "Miss Daae? Come with me." He boomed, tipping his cap to the stunned sisters. "You are wanted at the precinct. Raoul and some moron named Erik require your presence to settle a dispute. Might want to wrap up those éclairs. This might be a long night and the little one is hungry.

At this, Christine's heart skipped a beat. It was her worst nightmares come true. She wanted to bolt like a frightened doe, but knew better than to try and run from the police, so she silently wrapped the delicacies in a napkin and bid her farewells to the awestruck sisters.

After she had left, Evelyn struck up enough presence of mind to say, "Such a nice girl isn't she?" Gladys nodded her consent, but the rest of the midnight tea passed in awkward silence.

All three waiting individuals stood bolt upright when Heaurs returned to the tiny room where the threesome killed time. Delight ran forward and hugged Christine's legs tightly, speaking quickly in Swedish of how she missed her. The policeman dutifully led her to a bench and tossed the éclairs over his shoulder before leading her to the cell with the masked man.

"What's going on?" she tried her best to maintain a low tone of voice, though she was itching to scream in mortal terror. Erik gave her a poignant look.

"Honestly, Christine. How stupid do you think I am?" Raoul was shredding his handkerchief between his fingers. Perhaps he really wasn't as stupid as any of us would have guessed !.

All four of them looked over at Heaurs, who was standing by for further information like a gossipy adolescent. "Monsieur, if you please." Delight said with a hint of a scoff. Heaurs scowled at her and stalked out of the room. The little girl sneered at his back and returned to her bench, not aware of the magnitude of the situation.

"Now let's see, where were we?" Raoul placed another éclair in Delight's small hands and crouched down beside her. She gave him a disdainful look.

"Darling, would you kindly tell us your name again? I'm afraid my memory isn't what it used to be."

"My name is Delight." The child said simply through a mouthful of sweets.

"Charming. What's your last name?" She looked at like he had begun speaking Russian. "I don't have a last name, like Homer or Quasimodo."

"Ah. Indeed. Is that your father over there?" he jerked his thumb towards the cell occupants. Christine tightened her white-knuckled grip on the bars."

"Yes, that's him. Why are you asking me all these silly questions? Let me ask a few." Raoul looked ruffled at this statement, but nodded quickly anyway.

"Your name is Raoul, is it not? If it is, I think my papa has something against you." Everybody looked over at Erik, who shrugged nonchalantly. It was he could do not to laugh at his own unfortunate condition. Raoul looked ready to pop like Carlotta after she downed a whole bottle of wine at the Christmas gala. "Right then."

Delight looked fairly amused. "Question two: why did you answer the door half naked reeking of whiskey? Does the Viscount himself have lapses in mannerism? Well, tell me something I don't know." Instead of a muffled snort, both Erik and Christine laughed uproariously. The questionee flushed a terrible shade of crimson. "Why you horrible little brute! Enough of this idle twaddle! I'm asking the questions here!" he pounded his fist on the table, upsetting a few mugs of cold coffee. Everybody immediately hushed up.

"I'm through asking questions, but I have one last one for my friend Erik here. Why did you steal an innocent child from that unwitting mother? Have you no soul? Have you any idea what that girl did to herself after she found that empty cradle? Drowned herself, she did! And Christine, why on earth did you help him?"

The two adults in the cell let out a noise of frustration and relief. Perhaps he wasn't as smart as her almost seemed to be. Raoul had apparently mixed up a kidnapping of a few years ago with the truth that nobody wanted to speak. "We didn't steal her, you moron. She really is my child. You really are stupider that I made you out to be." Raoul ignored the insult and continued. "But… if she is yours, who's the mother? I know there has to be a mother. That much I know is necessary." Erik folded his arms haughtily.

"That is my personal business, not for greaseball politicians such as you to know. Let us out of here."

"You're not leaving until this girl's mother comes into the room, looks me straight in the eye and tells me that Delight is indeed hers. Send for whoever needed. I mean it. We're staying here until I meet her."

"Let me out and you can meet her right now." Christine stammered.

Silence.

"What?"

End of part one.