A/N: Thank you oh devoted reviewer of mine. and there was no way i'd not continued it aftr that intro. if i was reading my story i would be mad. anyhoo, here's the next chapter. i'm trying to keep people in character, but it's difficult. anyways, read, review, and fear not for there will be another chapter! (oh yeah, it ends kind of weird...sorry 'bout that)

Rebecca

Chapter One: To Paris

"Rebecca, are you alright?" asked Avril Thomas worriedly. She knew that Rebecca would be shocked at what she found in that letter, and now almost regretted giving it to her.

"I-I'm fine mama, just a little surprised. Why did you not tell me before that I was adopted?"

"We would have, but your birth mother made us promise to wait until you turned sixteen. Are you sure you're alright, dear?"

Rebecca was silent for a moment. "I'm fine," she said. "But, I have to go now."

"Pardon me?" Avril asked, stunned. "What do you mean?"

"I must find my birth father. I have to find him. You understand don't you?"

Avril hesitated; she did not want to lose Rebecca, and yet she couldn't deny her this. "I understand. When will you leave?" The Thomas' lived in a cottage in a small village outside of Paris which was a day's drive away.

"I will leave first thing in the morning," she replied. "Don't worry mama, I will write to you as soon as I find a place to stay." Rebecca began to head up the stairs to her little garret room. "I may not return," she said.

"I know," replied Avril sadly. "But, remember that you will always have a home here. If you do not find your father then you are always welcome to return. We love you Rebecca."

Rebecca turned at the head of the stairs, "I love you too."

The next morning, Rebecca and her adoptive parents said their goodbyes, then, she got into a waiting coach and began the journey to Paris. She carried one bag, and in it all her belongings. The Thomas family made a humble living, where material possessions were few, so her load was light.

The hours went by slowly and Rebecca slept most of the trip. However, they did eventually arrive in Paris, where she was dropped off at a modest hotel. She paid the driver and then went up to her room to get a good night's sleep. When morning came, she hired a hansom cab, grabbed her bag, and headed for the Opera Populaire to find Madame Giry.

Rebecca had only ever been subject to simple life in a small village, so Paris was quite a culture shock to her. It was so big and busy compared to the slow calmness of home. When her cab reached the Opera Populaire, Rebecca was in awe. It was perhaps the most magnificent building she had ever seen. She handed the driver his money, and then slowly ascended the steps to the front door of the Opera.

Inside was just as beautiful as out. It was ornately decorated, and just breathed elegance. She felt horribly out of place in her simple, black dress compared to the golden statues and marble floorings. Once she had taken a good look at her new surroundings, she began her search for Madame Giry.

"Pardon me," she asked a passing ballerina, "but I was wondering if you could help me find a woman named Madame Giry?"

"Of course," she replied. "I am her daughter, actually. My name is Meg Giry. Please, follow me."

Rebecca smiled and followed the young, blonde girl through the twisting halls of the Opera. After several minutes, they came upon a small office in which sat an older version of Meg. Her mother had the same facial features, but had greying brown hair and sharper eyes with signs of wrinkles in the corners.

"Mama, you have a visitor," said Meg, who then left them alone.

"Good morning, may I help you?" asked Madame Giry, rising from her chair. When she looked at Rebecca she gasped, but quickly regained her composure.

"Yes, my name is Rebecca," said Rebecca, then she quickly decided to add LeRoux to her name, "Rebecca LeRoux." Then, she pulled her mother's letter out of her bag and handed it to the older woman. "I am searching for my father, and this letter from my mother said to come to you."

Madame Giry opened the letter and quickly read it over. As she neared the end, a somewhat stunned expression came over her face. She folded the letter and placed it on her desk, then she crossed the room to shut the door. "Please, sit down." The two women sat down, and Madame Giry poured them each a cup of tea. "I believe that I can help you find your father. However, there may be some difficulty in getting him to agree to see you. I have no doubt in my mind that you really are his daughter, but it may take some time to convince him. I will find you a place to stay here at the Opera in the meantime."

"Thank you very much, Madame." They stood up, and Madame Giry led Rebecca down a hall to a small room.

"You may stay in here," she said. "I will send Meg with your meals, and once I get a chance to talk to Erik, I will come and tell you what he has said."

"Again, thank you," said Rebecca.

Madame Giry simply nodded and left Rebecca alone in her new room. Rebecca sat on the edge of the little bed, and sighed. She was quite pleased at having discovered all this so quickly and could not wait to hear what news Madame Giry would hopefully bring.

As she sat on her bed, thinking, she suddenly feared that perhaps he would not like her. She was not your average young lady. In fact, back home in the village she was somewhat of an outcast. She enjoyed reading and music, both of which were scarce in the small uneducated village. She enjoyed the night time most of all, and was rarely seen during the day. As well, she had many secrets about herself that not even her parents knew. Rebecca wondered if she had inherited any of these traits from her father.