Here's the last of my wee trilogy. Still reviewing your butts off i hope...

Rebecca

Chapter 15: How Dare You!

Rebecca stood up in front of her aunt and placed her hands on her hips. "How dare you say that about him? I don't care if you hold hostile feelings against him for leaving my mother, but you have no right to say that about him…you don't even know him! What could he possibly have done to you to cause you to hole such a grudge against him? Hasn't he been through enough?"

Michelle looked down at her hands, obviously ashamed of herself. "I can't tell you," she whispered.

"You can't, or you won't?"

"Fine," she said, "I'll you. Your father is not the man you think he is. He didn't just leave Penelope with a baby, he left her with absolutely nothing to live on. He didn't leave a note or anything. You know what he did leave though? He left a scar across her face. Yes, you heard me, a scar."

"He did not; Erik would never raise a hand to a woman, EVER."

"Well apparently he did. The night before he left, Penelope came to my door in tears with a gash on her cheek, and a broken heart. I asked her what happened. You know what she said?"

"What? What did she say?" fumed Rebecca.

"She said that he showed her his face for the first time. She said it was the most hideous, the most grotesque 'thing' she had ever seen. So, she began to cry. This made him angry, and she said he struck her across the face with the knife that lay on the counter next to him."

"You lie!" shouted Rebecca, backing away from Michelle as though she were a disease.

"I think not," said Michelle, she too rising from the sofa. "Your mother never told a lie in her life, and she wouldn't start lying for no reason."

"I don't care, Erik, my father, would never strike a woman with ANYTHING!" she stomped her boot clad foot, and stormed out of the room.

"Rebecca!" called Marie chasing after the angry girl. "Won't you stay to tea?"

"No thank you Madame Picard, I must be leaving now. Thank you very much though," she said, and then slammed the front door behind her with such force that a vase was knocked off a table and smashed to pieces on the floor.

"Michelle?" asked Marie, walking timidly into the parlour. Michelle sat on the sofa, crying.

"Yes Madame?" she replied, sniffing.

"What is the matter with Mademoiselle Rebecca?" she asked, handing her maid a laced handkerchief.

"She is upset because I told her the truth."

Marie sighed and decided it better not to question what had occurred in her parlour. "When you go back to the kitchen, tell Francois to clean up the mess in the foyer." She stood up, and went to talk to her son.

Meanwhile…

Rebecca raced down the cobblestones to the Opera, tears streaming down her cheeks, and her hair coming undone. The people she passed stared, and whispered about her appearance, but no one stopped to see if she was ok. Finally she arrived home, and made her way to the lair as fast as she could. She had to know the truth, and Erik was going to tell her the truth if she had to strangle him to get it.

"ERIK!" she yelled, as the little boat pulled up to the shore of the lair. "Where are you!"

"I'm right here," he replied, turning from his organ. "What is the matter? What happened!" His fatherly instinct kicked in immediately when he saw the stains of tears on her face. He pulled out his handkerchief and wiped them away gently.

"Michelle told me some things, and I want – nay, need – to know the truth from you."

"Alright," he said.

"Did you hit my mother with a knife across the cheek after she saw your face?" Rebecca hated having to ask this question, but she had to know for sure.

"No, I most certainly did not!" he exclaimed in horror. "I would never do such a thing, you know that!"

"I know, I know," she said, leaning her head on his chest. "But, Michelle seemed so sure of herself, and I just needed to hear it from you."

"What else did she tell you?" he asked.

Rebecca carefully repeated the story she had just learned to him, and he listened intently. She and he both cringed when she came to the part where he allegedly struck Penelope, and Rebecca knew that he did not. When she finished, neither could speak, and neither did speak. Instead, they both went to their separate rooms to sleep on that day's events.

Whadja think? Review pleasiepoo!