Erik called for Veronique many times, but she never responded. He searched high and low through the lair with no success in finding her. Then he saw it. The curtain over the broken mirror was caught up on a small rock.
He quickly grabbed a candle and raised the curtain. He ran down the dank and musty tunnel, knowing exactly where she would be. He came to the door and threw it open to find Veronique in a crumpled heap on the floor, clutching the card that read 'de Launce, 1860'...
His heart lept into his throat when he realized he would never receive another passionate kiss from her. She was the only woman who had truly fallen in love with him and did not love anybody else. But he was also the reason that she had nobody else to love.
He lifted her gentle weight and slowly carried her back to the lair, knowing it would be the last time he would be able to hold her. She lay limp in his arms, a look of shock on her face. She didn't even wake when she was set down in the swan bed. Erik pulled the curtain down and thought. He didn't even know why he kept those "trophies" of his murders.
He once again flew back to the trophy room and took everything from the walls. Carrying the heavy load of dresses, costumes, suits, and many ropes was an easy task for him. He then brought them to the lake and found the deepest point where nobody would think to look, tossing them into the depths of his lake which he had toiled night and day to create.
Seeing Veronique made him remember the most crucial part of his plan to help her forget this nightmare. He took back the curtain and slipped the card out of her hand. She didn't even stir when his lips brushed across hers, easing his worrying thoughts.
Without a doubt, the fall when she fainted would cause forgetfulness. That's what made his plot so successful and clever. He burned the slip of parchment, and with that, burned away any chance of her remembering what had happened that fateful night...