A.N: SPECIAL THANKS TO ALL MY WONDERFUL REVIEWERS. THIS STORY IS FOR YOU.

NB: I don't really know if Claudet is Erik's last name. I watched a Phantom of the Opera movie made in the forties where it was used as his last name so its what I decided.

Part 2

Erik stopped and stared at her. Another coincidence? This was too much of a coincidence. It was all too much for him to comprehend. Could this child possibly be the daughter of his beloved Christine? And if so, who was the father? If not Raoul De Changy, then who? Had Christine found a new love? Judging by the age of this child it couldn't have been long after THAT night. She must have tired of Raoul quickly. Had he done something to chase her away? He had soo many questions, assuming that this was indeed, Christine's child. his eyes scanned down to the bag that she'd pulled his mask out of. "What else have you got in there?" he lunged for the bag and tore it out of her hands.

"NO!" the child cried out "That's mine! Give it back!" she jumped trying to snatch it back.

Erik reached into the bag and pulled out many artefacts; a rose, black ribbon, a diamond necklace and many brochures advertising operas that had been performed by the Opera Populaire and one, a poster of Don Juan Triumphant, with Christine on the cover.

"That's my mother." The child, Erica, he remembered, said.

So it was true! This was indeed the daughter of his beloved Christine! "Listen to me child," he tried to stay calm so as not to scare her "can you tell me who your father is?"

The child petulantly crossed her arms and pouted. "My name is Erica." She glared "and I'm not telling you anything until you give me my stuff back!"

Eric was taken aback, he didn't want to relinquish these special items, but he returned them to Erica. "Erica. Who is your father?"

"I never met him, mamma says he's an angel."

An angel? "How old did you say you were?" he whispered

"5, almost 6!" she announced proudly.

Erik ran his fingers through his hair, he had to think. "You go now!" he waved his hand to dismiss her. When she didn't move he yelled at her "GO NOW! GO NOW! AND LEAVE ME HERE!"

She ran off quickly.

Erik began to think, could it be possible? He felt as if he was going for joy if it were. To think, all this time had passed…but surely Christine would have told him if it were, so perhaps he was just dreaming. He heard Erica leave and knew this was his chance. He'd follow her home, THEN he'd know for sure. He quietly crept after her.

He followed her through the centre of Paris and across the bridge towards the poorer residential areas. Here the streets were narrow and rough. The buildings were neglected and unkempt. The children were hungry and filthy. Sewage and rubbish littered the small sidewalks and mangy animals rustled through it for food. all through this the people were either too drunk, too tired or without hope to care. He couldn't believe this child and possibly, Christine, could live here. Her clean outfit stood out starkly in her drab surroundings. It was as if a spotlight shone down from heaven illuminating and favouring her above all else. He watched her walk into a tall, rickety building. One of those places that rented out rooms. He saw her walk into a room on the ground floor and, thankful for his luck, he snuck around to the window and peaked in. The flat was made of stone and was one room with a curtain down the centre which, he could only assume, housed a bed. The furniture was old and sparse but very neat and clean. The curtains were pulled back, allowing maximum amount of sunlight to shine through the small but clean windows. Opposite the window, beside the door stood a woman at a sink. She wore a very plain, unflattering black dress and a stained apron. She had her hair pinned up tightly in a bun and her womanly figure was concealed by the garments she wore, but he'd recognize her anywhere.

Christine bent over their old sink and furiously scrubbed the dishes. Every few second she'd raise her soap-sudded hand to wipe a stray hair from her face and glance anxiously at the old clock she'd found perched precariously on the small mantel. Where was Erica? She should have been back 30 minutes ago. Everyday she sent Erica into the upper class area of Paris to go to school. It cost her nearly all of her pathetic pay and she often needed to give the schoolmaster other "favours" to make up the fees. But for her child she would do anything. Education was the key. She wanted Erica to have the best possible education so she could get a well-paying, respectable job for herself. Her dream was that Erica would be able to look after herself AND have a good life, without having to rely on a man. Just then Erica walked through the door. "Where have you been?" Christine wiped her hands on her apron and gripped her daughter's shoulders frantically. "You're over 30 minutes late! you've never been this late before." Christine's eyes quickly scanned over her "are you hurt? What has gone wrong? Were you attacked?" she babbled "Answer me Erica!" she shook her in panic.

"It's alright Mamma" Erica soothed "I'm not hurt."

Christine breathed a sigh of relief and ran her fingers through her hair. "Well why were you so late sweetie? Are you having trouble with your schoolwork? Did you need Mr. Monarchmin (she cringed at the name) to help you?"

Erika couldn't lie to her mother "No Mamma" she bowed her head "I just stopped somewhere on the way home. I'm sorry I'm late."

"Well I'm just glad your safe, but you mustn't do that again without telling me, you had me very concerned." She bent down to kiss her child's cheek. "Now go and change out of your good school clothes, we must keep them clean." She returned to her work but then stopped and called out "Wait! Where would you have needed to stop at on the way home?"

Erica gulped and walked back through the curtain knowing she was in for it now. "I just stopped at this place I've been curious about for some time." She answered. She wasn't sure how to tell her mother, unsure of how she'd react.

"Where would that be? You know curiosity killed the cat. Remember our story about Pandora?"

Erica sighed "yes Mamma. Pandora followed her curiosity and opened the box that destroyed the world. If she'd displayed some self discipline then everything would have been ok."

"Yes" Christine replied softly "Imagine how things could have been if she'd kept her hands to herself" she whispered. Erica gave her a confused look. She shook herself out of her reverie and smiled reassuringly at her. "So what mysterious place tempted your curiosity so?" she smiled.

"Well, it's an old abandoned building" Erica began.

Christine gasped "Oh Erica you should be careful! Abandoned buildings are dangerous. Why, a rotten beam could have given way and you could have been crushed!"

"It's alright Mamma. This building was well looked after. In fact, I'm pretty sure someone still lived there."

"Where? What building?" Christine demanded

Erica took a deep breath "the old Opera Populaire."

Christine froze, her face turning white. Not sure of what to think or say. She bent down to Erica, "you said someone lived there? Whom? Who do you think lives there?" she was practically begging.

"He does" Erica simply pointed to the window.

Christine stood up to see the figure she'd seen every night in her dreams standing in her home and leaning against the windowsill. He regarded her with a heated stare. Christine promptly fainted.