The flickering light of the fire danced across Christine's face as she stood staring up at the blazing Paris Opera House. She barely remembered the journey from the cellar to the sidewalk, her mind filled with the image of the pained expression on her Angel's face as she placed the ring in his hand and left him alone, again, in the dark. He looked so lost and sad, like a child, not like the strong and dangerous man I know him to be. What will be come of him now? The police are on their way down to his domain at this very moment, and they're so angry, I know they are going to hurt him. Yet I find that I do not want him to be hurt…instead I feel an incredible urge to protect him…But after all he has put me through, how does that make sense? Another thought came unbidden; What has he done for me except everything in his power to give me my dreams…Is that so terrible? Yes, he has murdered Joseph Buquet and Piangi and who knew how many others…but from his words earlier in the evening, I know life has been nothing but cruel to him…no one has ever loved him…

She was abruptly jolted from her confused inner monologue by the gentle pressure of Raoul's hand on her arm. "Christine?" he said, looking into the depths of her warm brown eyes, "We must move away from the building, to safety." She wordlessly nodded her assent and allowed him to lead her away from the burning inferno of the opera house. Raoul somehow manage to locate his carriage despite the confusion and chaos outside of the burning building, and as he helped Christine step into the conveyance, he looked back at the orange glow of the fire. Why did he let us go? He thought I'll never understand what changed in that moment after Christine's kiss…just when he finally gets what he's wanted all along…he gives up… He shook himself free from his own thoughts and climbed into the waiting carriage beside his fiancee.

Christine did not say a word during the drive to the Chagny estate. She just sat staring out the window of the carriage into the black nothingness of the night beyond. It almost seemed as if she was listening for something, or someone, on the voice of the wind as it rushed past the carriage. "Christine," whispered Raoul gently, "Are you alright?" "Yes, Raoul, I believe we have both managed to escape that terrible fire unscathed,"she replied, physically at least, she thought, but did not say. Neither of them seemed to know how to broach the subject of the true events of the evening, the opera itself and what had taken place in the cellars below. Raoul tried to keep from thinking about the beatific smile that graced Christine's lovely features after her embrace with the Phantom had ended, while Christine tried to keep herself from thinking alltogether.

It was dark and cold…just he way he liked it, normally. There was something missing, and he did not want to have to admit to himself what that something was. He traced his fingers unconsciously over his lips, as if in disbelief of their very existence. Her lips touched mine…for one moment her light shone into my darkness and I was free, he thought, with a momentary flash of joy at the memory, now only several hours old, but already relived countless times. I cannot believe that she touched me, touched this face, kissed these lips…I asked her to make a choice, but I never dreamed that is what she would choose. He knew that memory would slowly consume him until there was nothing left of his life…or of him. The feel of her kiss on his lips was like the glowing ember of a fire that would slowly burn away at him until he just disappeared into the night.

The carriage slowed to a bumpy stop in front of a large mansion, ablaze with light from the many lamps glowing within its windows. Raoul gently shook Christine, "Darling, we're here," he said quietly, disturbed by the way her eyes looked into his, but did not even seem to see him. He helped Christine down from the carriage, and escorted her up the stairs to front door, where an anxious group of servants waited for their master. Raoul looked at their wide eyes and realized how he and Christine must look…wet, bedraggled, and smudged with soot. He quickly offered a brief explanation, "There was a terrible accident at the opera house, a fire." He Raoul directed his next statement to one timid looking young maid standing just inside the door to the house, "Would you please take Mademoiselle Daae upstairs and attend to her?" The maid curtsied and gently took Christine's arm from Raoul's grasp. His eyes followed Christine's slow measured steps up the stairs, and he then set off in the same direction, badly in need of dry clothes and a moment to gather his thoughts.

An hour later, Christine was cleaned up and sitting in a chair by the window of a beautiful room in the Chagny mansion, wearing a deep blue nightgown and robe. Raoul opened the door and brought in a small tray, bearing a cup of tea and some biscuits. "I thought you might be hungry," he said as he set the tray on a small table next to Christine's chair. She looked up at him, and said, "Thank you Raoul, but I'm not hungry, I would just like to be alone." He nodded his understanding, kissed the top of her head, and left the room, shutting the door behind him. All she needs is a good night's rest and she will be fine he though, not sure if this was really the truth, or just something he needed desperately to believe for his own well-being.

Christine breathed a sigh of relief when the door clicked shut behind Raoul. She was just too confused and upset to talk to him right now, and she did appreciate his apparent understanding of her need to be alone. She returned her gaze to the window, not sure what she was hoping to see, but somehow finding comfort in the darkness beyond the glass. I was always so afraid of the dark before him…no, I find it does not scare me as it once did…she thought, surprised to find herself having thoughts of him again, for what seemed like the hundredth time since she had left the burning opera house behind. Her hand went to her lips as she remembered the kiss she had shared with her Angel of Music…it almost seemed as if her lips still tingled with the pressure of that kiss, and she could still feel the surprise and joy that had coursed through her body as she took his face in her hands and gave him the only gift she could think of to make him see that he was not the monster he believed himself to be. No, I never thought of him as monster…but he was not the angel I believed him to be. He deceived me and he lied to me…he's KILLED people…Raoul would never do any of those things, he's so good and gentle. Yet, did he not want to have the Phantom killed this night? Was that not why the police were stationed around the opera house with guns at the ready? And more importantly…will I ever feel that same surprise and joy when I kiss Raoul? That last thought came from a different voice…a voice that tugged her back to the memory of that kiss in the cavern below…forcing her to remember the electricity and warmth that had flowed from her to him and back again in those brief seconds.

Christine shook her as if to clear the cobwebs from her brain. She looked around, her gaze falling on the plush bed covered with warm blankets and pillows. I'll feel better after I get some sleep, she thought, before pulling back the covers and turning down the lamp. As she settled into the bed she said a silent prayer that everything would be clearer in the morning light.

She was running through the maze of corridors below the opera house, she was looking for something. Her breathing was erratic and her heart was pounding. She raced past the organ, and the model of the opera house, the pictures of her, and the mannequin that once held the wedding dress. All of the mirrors were broken…How many years bad luck must he suffer before he is allowed to be free? She thought as she continued her desperate search. The mirrors! She stopped and turned and looked at the one covered mirror, the one untouched piece of glass. She pulled back the heavy brocade tapestry covering the frame, and gasped at the expanse of black darkness beyond where the mirror should have been. She carefully stepped over the broken glass and walked blindly into the dark…"Where are you?" she cried, pausing in her movements and hoping to hear a voice respond, "I can't find you, it's too dark." Then weakly, his voice spoke her name, "Christine…" almost in a whisper. She rushed forward, trying to follow the sound…the fear was choking her…if I can't get to him in time, he'll never know that I love him…

Christine opened her eyes and looked around her into the darkness in the room. I love him? She thought, That can't be right, that was not Raoul's voice I heard in my dream. I find that I never dream of Raoul…only of Him…Then…I love Him…my Angel…that kiss, the warmth and joy I felt…is that love? His face does not scare me, his eyes show me his soul…the way he looks at me, as if he couldn't bear to lose…Oh no! He has lost me…I left him all alone down there…What have I done?

She threw back the covers and quickly lit the lamp on the table beside the bed. "I have to go back…I have to know for sure," she said aloud to the empty room. She dressed in the only thing she had, the wedding dress, torn and tattered from the night before. In a way, it seemed almost fitting that she should wear it to return to him. She quietly opened the door to her room, and walked down the hall. I will find Raoul and I will make him take me back…he has to.