Veronique continued having nightmares every night, and she always awoke the same way, telling Erik that she dreamt he killed her parents. It broke his heart to think that this beautiful young woman was the victim of his rage and jealousy. Several weeks passed, and Veronique's voice was the only thing that brought comfort to his soul. Her voice was becoming more mature and operatic, and day by day she grew into a woman before his eyes. The nourishment he provided for her body filled it out and made her look more her age, while the nourishment he gave her soul with his music made her age in knowledge and wisdom. Erik found himself growing to very fond of her.
Veronique surprised Erik one month to the day after they met. She awoke happily in the morning and greeted him in the same way with a kiss on the cheek that was not covered by a mask. But her greeting was different this morning. "Erik, today is my 18th birthday!" she exclaimed. "I was hoping that you would tell me your tale. I wish to know more about you... It can be a gift for my birthday!"
Seeing as Veronique was now mature enough, he decided to tell her. To tell her everything. "Alright, Mademoiselle de Launce. I will tell you. But you must promise to keep this all a secret." With that, he began his tragic tale. How he came to live in the opera house. The day he fell in love with Christine, and the day he lost her. He left out the murder of Veronique's parents; he still did not want her to know that he caused her to live a life of sorrow. Several times, he stopped and shook with sobs, but quickly recomposed himself and continued. He did not want her to see that he was emotionally unstable. Not in the least.
He finished his story, and Veronique found herself with tears streaming down her cheeks. She had never heard of such a tragic life of desperation and loneliness. Feeling things she had never felt for another man, she had a sudden urge to ask him a question. "Monsieur Erik, how old are you? It seems impossible that somebody who looks so young as yourself could have led such a sorrowful life."
"I am 35 years old, Mademoiselle. But I feel like I should be around 75. The horrible things I've done, I should be paying for them with my life," Erik calmly responded. "Now, before we go to work, do you have any more questions you wish to ask me?"
"I have one more, Monsieur," Veronique replied. She took a deep breath, as though preparing to plunge underwater for a long time. She felt that way, and she was ready to take the plunge. "For what reason do you wear the mask? May I see what lies beneath it?"
Erik was startled. Nobody had ever asked to see what horrors were given to him at birth. His abhorrent face was the only thing he wished to keep under wraps, but he reluctantly nodded. Veronique stretched her hand to Erik's face, and removed the stark-white mask. Holding the mask in her hand, she stared at the deformities, but never uttered a scream. It puzzled Erik, as everyone else who had seen his cursed visage had run away in fright.
Veronique said nothing more. She only walked over to the piano and waited for her Angel of Music to accompany her...