Authors Note: Here's Chapter 8. I was quite sad to see no reviews for my last chapter. Please review. It only takes two seconds. I see the hits on this story is high… Thanks for reading. Don't worry Christine and Erik will be reunited soon.

The night was still and serene. A light breeze ruffled through the leaves of the shrubbery and trees outside the Opera Populaire. Emiliee walked silently outside, ignoring the fact that Francois was walking right behind her. Her eyes burned with tears of hurt, fury and confusion. Her mind kept replaying the scene that she had just been through. She wished desperately to talk to her mother or father. Or someone that would have some answers. The young de Chagny wasn't sure what to think. The man must have been lying…or joking. Yes, he had been joking.

Emiliee fed herself this answer over and over in her mind. But his tone held no mockery as he had conversed with her. She heard the door to the Opera House close softly behind her and became aware that Francois was standing silently behind her, watching her every move. Emiliee took a deep breath before turning around and smiling delicately at him. There was one thing that she knew for sure and that was that she had to maintain the air that she was pulled together around him.

She had been planning to remark about the beauty of the night which was around them. Or comment on the latest political affairs. Her backup plan was going to be to ask about the Opera. But all these preparations were deemed useless when she looked into his eyes.

His eyes held so much pity, so much compassion. Usually she would have been offended that someone would think she needed that kind of sympathy. But when she saw that look it changed her. Changed her ideals on how she should act. She couldn't help a small tear roll gently down her face and she held his gaze. It made her feel sorrier for herself.

Ashamed, Emiliee quickly looked away and wiped away the tear. Her gaze stayed on the rough ground in which she was standing. She didn't say a word, and neither did he. The air surrounding them was not of awkward nature. But almost of peace. Emiliee was deeply relived that he did not speak. For she feared speaking would ruin the imminent point when the peace, the dreaming would end. She wished to sustain it for as long as possible.

Emiliee raised her gaze finally and stared out over the rooftops of the other buildings.

"Thank you," she muttered softly "for what you did back there."

"It was my pleasure Mademoiselle de Changy." He said in the same soft tone.

Emiliee froze as she heard her name uttered from his lips. Was that the reason why he had saved her then? To get on the good side of a de Chagny! Someone high ranked in society? Emiliee turned back to him and nodded briskly.

"Well monsieur if you wouldn't mind. I feel quite exhausted. I would like to return to my room."

Emiliee walked vigorously to the front doors expecting Francois to move out of the way. But he didn't. Emiliee stopped in front of him and looked at him in the most professional and high class way that she could muster. Inside her mind was screaming. Why couldn't he just let her go? She had so much to think about, so much to straighten out.

Please…she thought desperately please let me be. Let me go.

Francois touched her arm briefly before saying anything. In spite of herself, Emiliee felt her stomach flutter.

"Please don't go," he said "just…let's go for a little wander around outside."

Emiliee stared at him for a long while before saying anything. He sounded sincere. But did that really count for anything? She hardly knew this boy. He could be a creep, a bore, or a murderer for all she knew. And frankly, Emiliee had had enough of murderers. Already she had met one too many.

A pang of fear overtook her as she thought of the masked man. Here she was outside, relatively alone whilst a murderer had threatened her. She was so stupid.

"Alright." She said finally looking around her anxiously for some indication if someone was following her.

Either Francois didn't notice her tense nature or he merely ignored it because he said nothing.

"Sorry but…where did you plan to go?" Emiliee asked slowly.

Francois let out a small laugh as he looked at Emiliee again. She certainly did do her research before going anywhere.

"Why the Opera House gardens of course…" he said motioning towards an extravagant garden gate.

Emiliee nodded slowly muttering things under her breath like "yes" and "of course, how silly of me". Her words were lost to the wind for Francois couldn't hear her as they walked through the gates.

The sight in front of her was…amazing. Tall tree's overhung over the patches of flowers. But they weren't just patches of flowers. The flowers had such vibrant color but yet they were so delicate and vulnerable even. A few fountains littered the garden walls making the scene even more breathtaking. Emiliee could hardly imagine this being part of the Opera House garden. This was a spectacle in itself.

"Wow…" was all she could manage out.

Francois nodded slowly before leaning on a small park bench in the middle of the gardens.

"When they rebuilt the Opera House they also bought some of the land over here. My father and Firmin thought that they could extend the walls of the Opera Populaire to occupy all of the space but that became impossible. So they decided that a garden would be a nice addition to their building," Francois shrugged "they needed to fill up some space"

Emiliee stared around at all of the flowers in front of her. She couldn't name any of them. They seemed to be of some rare breed that she had never seen before. Without taking her eyes off them she spoke.

"When you said gardens I thought you meant a few flower pots or something." She said in awe.

Francois laughed lightly "Really? I would imagine that a member of the de Chagny family would have been better acquainted with gardens to this scale."

Emiliee let out a small breath she didn't wish to talk about her family name.

"Those flowers are beautiful," she said quickly. Obviously attempting to change the subject as quickly as possible "they are so vivacious looking. The colors are so beautiful and bright. But yet they look so delicate and soft."

Francois watched her, a strange look of almost adoration in his eyes. He expected that she wasn't just referring to the flower.

"I wasn't aware that Andre had a son. "She said conversationally

Francois smiled at her and ran his hands through his hair. "Neither did he until a couple months ago."

Emiliee smiled in spite of herself. Her eyebrows raised "Really?" she said

Francois nodded "Excuse me for being so frank, but he had a certain fling that turned out differently then he had hoped."

Emiliee looked at him in disbelief. "Oh my…That's…"

Francois smiled at her "I know. My mother got in trouble with my father when he found out. There having this big row now. So my mother, bless her, figured it would be a grand idea for me to come out here and meet Andre."

Emiliee nodded before a question roused within her and she could not suppress "But, pardon me for asking, but how did she know Andre was the real father. If she is married…"

Francois looked at her inquiring face and laughed to himself.

Emiliee stopped and began to blush madly. "I'm sorry; really, I don't know what possessed me to ask a personal question like that. Forgive me."

But to her surprise he shook his head. "No it's alright. You don't have to ask for forgiveness. I, actually find the circumstance quite amusing

Emiliee let out a small breath of relief.

"Well, let's just say my mother and father have never been…plentiful in that area"

Both Emiliee and Francois laughed at his comment.

Francois and Emiliee wandered aimlessly around the garden. The talked of many things, but mostly things about Francois. Emiliee made sure that she constantly asked him questions about himself. Every once and awhile Francois would casually ask her about her family but Emiliee quickly veered away from the subject. She had enough to worry about her family without making all her worries public to him. It would only make them worse and more real. After what seemed like hours Emiliee looked back towards the Opera House. She was famished and exhausted. She wanted more then anything to sleep away her problems.

"Listen, thank you for everything. But I am really very tired and I must get back to the Opera House"

Francois nodded before they both started heading towards the doors to the Opera. The carefree, relaxed atmosphere that had surrounded them both was quickly replaced by a very tense and awkward atmosphere. Emiliee only muttered two words of thanks before entering the Opera House and leaving Francois behind her.

She turned the doorknob to her room slowly before walking in. The room was very dark and Emiliee didn't hesitate to get herself in-between the covers as she closed the door behind her. She didn't even bother to change into her night clothes.

She was almost settled in a deep sleep when a terrifying voice filled her mind.

"I don't trust this boy."


"Madame..? Madame de Chagny?"

A low voice broke Christine's despair. She looked up at the man who stood in front of her. He was one of the servants from their summer home.

"Sorry to disturb you but I just received word. Madame your housekeeper, Henrietta, she is dead."

Christine's eyes widened at the news.

"How?"

"Murdered Madame. Found dead in your bedroom."

Christine looked down at her feet in disbelief. It was too horrible to think about. Too horrible to comprehend.

Only now that she studied the man in front of her did she see the fear and urgency marked along the crease lines in his face.

"Raoul is gone."

"Gone where?"

The servant was silent and handed her a note. With trembling hands Christine opened it and tears began to flow freely as she read the words.

I have your husband.