Note: Awww you all made me laugh, I can make you hate me, and then love me! Wow, power! Lol. I think this story is not even close to finishing, which I hope is ok with you, because I don't know whether your expecting a closure soon, maybe your getting bored with me / Please tell me, because I do have quite good ideas for the continuation of it. Nad xxx

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He's alive.

Alive.

Was this someone's sick joke? Would someone be as cruel as to write such a life bringing letter to her in false hope? It couldn't be. Nasih wouldn't have put some random letter in his, only if he knew them. Nasih was an honest and kind man. He would never do such a thing.

So it's true! He is alive. Christine could even recognise the beautiful handwriting, even though it had clearly been rushed. She had seen the newspaper article through tear filled eyes after Madame Giry had read the letter and ran to show her the paper.

The three women sat in frustrating silence for a long time, looking at each other in shock and uncertainty. Meg was the first to break the silence.

"…How did he manage to escape? There must have been…"

"That doesn't matter." Madame Giry cut in. Her response had been dismissive, a way of telling Meg this was not the topic to be talking about right now. "All that matters, is he is alive and safe."

She took hold of Christine's hand, who was still shaking. She looked up at Madame Giry, the life and flushed youth could be seen rushing back into her once lifeless face. It was a strange joy to see.

"I have to find him." She began shifting from the bed, but Madame Giry held her arm.

"No! No, you can't, ma cher, you will put each other in considerable danger!"

Christine stopped and hung her head.

"But he is in danger! Where will he go, the whole of Paris is on the lookout for him!"

The helpless frustration caused her to sit down angrily on the bed once more. Meg put an arm over her shoulder.

"Of all people, Christine, you should know he is a master in concealment. He will be fine, I promise you. And, listen to me, both of you,"

She stood in front of the two girls sternly, placing her hands on her waist, and looking hard down at them.

"I will have no more talk of this from now on. No doubt we will have the police round, asking a million questions, knowing that we probably have some information as to where he is. As a matter of fact…Meg, burn that letter."

"No! I want to keep it!" Christine made a grab for it, but Madame Giry pulled it back.

"Don't be so selfish! If it's found and traced, he could be hanged, no question next time! Do you want that, Christine?"

Christine looked abashed, shaking her head at the floor.

"Right, then Meg, burn it."

Meg took the letter from her mother, and put the corner over a candle. As it began to flare, she tossed it on the empty hearth in the bedroom. They all watched it fall apart slowly, each piece disappearing into black ash. Madame Giry let out an audible sigh, turning to them once more.

"We know nothing. Only of what has been said in the paper. Christine, not a word about your situation."

She let her eyes flit towards the young woman's stomach, were the lump had not appeared yet, thankfully not giving anything away of the pregnancy. It would have been folly to mention it, as a motive such as that would certainly make Erik return to her. She would be guarded constantly.

And as if on cue, a loud tapping on the door sounded. Meg jumped slightly, and Christine looked fearful. Only Madame Giry kept composed, straightening her dress and giving a last warning look to the two girls. She moved to the door, and unlocked it.

Three men stood stiffly, waving police badges in front of Madame Giry's face. Still she didn't move to let them enter, blocking the door with her arm. The closest man, dressed in a long coat, covered at the neck by a large bushy beard. He took of his hat in respect and looked gravely at the lady.

"Bonjour Madame, Quai des Orfèvres Senior Détective Marcelle and my co-workers, Detective Gaulleire and Detective Rever. I expect you know why we're here."

Madame Giry raised her eyebrows, authority radiating from her presence. She seemed to size the men up, as if deciding whether they were worthy of entering her house.

"It would seem I do, Monsieur. Please…come in."

She moved back almost reluctantly, letting the men pass through the narrow door way. She sternly instructed them to wipe their feet before letting them into the living area. Meg was called to prepare coffee and tea for the detectives.

"So, monsieur's, you see it fit to question me about the disappearance?"

A short, very large man with a very red complexion wheezed as he spoke. He had been introduced as Monsieur Rever.

"Oui, Madame, but not just yourself. We request the presence of a Miss Daae also. We have reason to believe she is living here, am I correct?"

"Yes, but I will allow no questioning of her in solitude. She has been very traumatized by the whole experience, and I do not wish her to be alone with you."

The three men had a silent meeting, glancing at each other for an agreement. They nodded slowly, and Monsieur Rever continued.

"So be it. Please, if she would?"

When Meg had returned with the tea for her mother and the coffee for the gentlemen, she went to escort the frail Christine into the living room. Christine looked a lot worse in the natural light of the room, her pale skin dull and drawn. The men looked sympathetically at her as Meg helped her sit in the chair near Madame Giry.

"Mademoiselle, thank you for your time." Detective Marcelle bowed his head to her after sitting down from his polite raise to Christine on entering. Christine smiled slightly, but closed her eyes in reaction to the light coming through the window.

"Right then, now we would like to ask you both about your presence at the so called 'execution', and anything else prior to this."

Monsieur Gaulleire, the man who had not spoken yet, took his cue. He was quite a young looking man, quite handsome man in fact. His mouth would twitch slightly into a smile when he would see Meg looking at him, much to her mother's disapproval.

"Firstly, Madame, we would like to ask you if you noticed anything suspicious when you were at the execution."

"We were allocated one of the witness boxes around the square. We were too far away to see if we recognized any apparent lack of identity."

"Yes, yes, I'm sure. And prior to the execution, did you know of any…plans to escape from jail?"

"Certainly not, Monsieur! We know the law, acquaintances or not, we would have reported anything."

Monsieur Rever sniffed, and turned his view to Christine.

"Acquaintances, indeed. But we know the accused would have had reason to escape, would he not? Not just for his own neck, if I were to venture a guess."

Christine raised her head to look at the balding, overweight man, who was eyeing her suspiciously. She took on a look of tired shock.

"I knew of no further motive as to his escape apart from avoiding death! Certainly he would have taken the opportunity of escaping if it had arisen, Monsieur, as would we all."

The men nodded understandingly, ignorant to the protective way Christine sheltered her stomach with her hand.

The questioning progressed into trying to riddle out a trip up, maybe finding a hint that the women knew something about his were-about. But Madame Giry had it well hidden, even taking on an adoptive false hatred of Erik, coaxing Christine to do so. Christine played along, pretending she had not been in Erik's favor in his last moments, her sudden ambiguous outburst at the cells a few days before his death confirming that. To them it could have been a burst of outrage towards him, welcoming his death sentence.

No matter what, they seemed pretty convinced over their story, were even if he was alive, they would want nothing to do with him.

The three police detectives bowed out of the door, shaking hands with Madame Giry, and the Detective Gaulleire, placing a soft kiss on Meg's hand, making her blush terribly.

"That does not mean we are out of the wood yet." Madame Giry frowned as they returned to the living room. "We will be watched, certainly for a few weeks. We have nothing to worry about though, as we didn't lie. We don't know where Erik is, and therefore we cant get him found. We all must keep low and remain here for a while."

"What about England!" Meg whined, complimenting her crestfallen expression.

"England will have to wait, ma cher. But don't worry," She kissed the top of Meg's head. "I will inform them that I accept their offer."

This seemed to cheer Meg up, as she leaped up happily to help Christine return to the back bedroom.

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When Christine had been left alone, she sighed heavily and threw herself onto the bed. Her mind was a blur of emotions, such a horrible mix that any other inexperienced person would have drowned by now. She felt almost sorry for herself that she was now used to feeling such distress.

She was in total bliss in knowing Erik was alive, yet the sickening worry for his safety had taken the place of the terrible feeling of loss.

What to do? She was so stressed that she couldn't really do anything. Actually, for a while she felt energetic, a huge change from her usual lethargic state. She paced around her room for a while, thoughts all of Erik swimming freely through her mind.

Soon, her mind came back to her present state.

She had hardly had time to take in her pregnancy, and now she had time to think about it, she became a little scared. She was only a child herself, not even twenty. And to bring a child up without a present father? What would she explain to it? That its father was on the run, charge with the murder of hundreds of people?

One thing she did worry about was her abuse of her body in the recent month. She suddenly became extremely guilty, as she could have damaged her babies growth in her womb with lack of nutrition.

Christine moved instinctively to the tea tray, were some supper was sitting there for her. She ate some, and surprisingly to herself felt a lot better. Soon she had eaten all of it, and she picked up the tray to take back to the kitchen.

The sun was going down at this point, and from the kitchens window, the light lit up the room beautifully. Christine breathed in the pleasant cool atmosphere of the kitchen, with its beautiful smells from the makings of supper. A tiny breeze was coming from the window, and she moved over to it, feeling a little soothed.

It wasn't till she had reached the window, did she felt anything but relaxed. On looking at the window sill, she saw a yellow tinged parchment lying there innocently. Yet her heart leaped up into her mouth, as she snatched the folded paper quickly and leaned out of the window, scanning the darkening street desperately. But there was no one about. She could hear the distant racket of children playing in a house further up the street, yet no one walking or more preferably, hiding in the shadows.

With trembling hands, she turned the paper over to read A.O.M. What did that mean?

As quickly as she had fretted, it dawned on her.

Angel of Music.

Erik.

She scrambled with the paper to unfold it and quickly read its message.

You have come here, hardly knowing the reason why. Tonight you succumb to me.

O.G.

The message rang out loud and clear to her, as did his lyrics from his opera, Don Juan. She remembered how they had sung to each other, he oblivious to the audience and her forgetful of the plan. They had been totally engrossed in each other, finally falling into the point, the point where they couldn't not return.

But she would return. She would return to her former home, to that place where she had succumbed to him. Tonight, they would be re-united at the very place they had began this performance of hate, betrayal, passion, jealousy and love.

Note; Not a terribly exciting chapter, but it will get better. I wrote this with a damn house alarm going off in my street, and it so annoying! Anyway, don't forget to review, cause I adore getting them, you lot are so great, im surprised I can fit my head through my door lol! Unless you all forgot which story your reading and your praising the wrong one, eek! xxxxxx