Tonight I'm going down to the mirror to learn my fate. I know, however, that it won't really be necessary to go down, since I know what his answer is going to be.

As I sit here and write, I know that I'm going to have to let him go with quiet dignity and grace. He's going to be with Emilie; he doesn't want to be in the company of a half - crazed monster any longer.

But maybe I'll try praying. I've never prayed before, but here I go.

"Please, God, let him love me and I promise to be good forever..."

Christine sat in her lair on the piano bench, trying to pass the time until it was time for her to go down to the mirror and meet Cameron.

She sighed impatiently and pulled her pocketwatch out, glancing at it. It was 6:45 P.M. - time for her to go. It would take her about fifteen minutes to reach the mirror, and she wanted to be at the mirror by seven o'clock.

She put her cloak on over her shoulders, stepped onto the gondola, grabbed the rowing rod, and rowed away.

When she reached the passageway near the mirror, she walked faster, feeling excitement rise in her.

Then, as she stepped up by the mirror, there was Cameron, sitting down at the small dresser, writing something down on some stationery. He'd come, just as he'd promised he would.

She smiled and knocked on the mirror.

Cameron glanced up at the mirror, rose, put the paper in a drawer, and walked over to the mirror.

She then opened the mirror and gazed at him for a moment. "Hello, Cameron," she said softly, smiling a little.

His face broke out into a wide smile. "Angel!" he said joyously. "I've been waiting to see you all week!"

"The feeling is mutual," she said, extending her hand to him. "Come with me?"

He took her hand and smiled. "Certainly."

She smiled and starteed stepping him backwards, leading him down to her world. When he'd stepped completely inside the passageway, she closed the mirror. Then she started walking again, holding onto his hand.

They walked in silence for a while. Then she finally asked, "Has everyone been following my orders for my opera so far?"

He nodded. "I think they're too terrified of you to disobey," he said, laughing a little.

She smiled a little and shrugged. "The world is full of victims and predators, Cameron," she said. "If you don't know that now, you will eventually."

He nodded again, and they subsided into silence for a few minutes more. Then he said, "I've made my decision, Angel."

"Oh?"

"Yes... may I tell you now, please?"

He felt her hand stiffen in his. "Yes, I suppose so," she said slowly. She took a deep breath as quietly as possible, preparing herself for the ultimate rejection. "All right. Go ahead and tell me."

He walked in silence for a moment. "I'm staying with you."

She drew in her breath sharply, hardly believing her ears. "You're choosing me?" she asked in disbelief. "You would rather be with me than be with your fiancee and get married?"

"Yes."

She glanced at him, still not convinced. "You're sure?" she persisted. "Absolutely certain?"

He nodded and smiled. "Yes... I've missed you so badly these past six months, Christine... there's no way on earth that I'm letting you go, not after only seeing you again a week ago."

She stopped walking for a moment, staring at him. "You called me Christine," she said softly.

"Yes," he said, shrugging and looking rather confused. "That is your name, isn't it?"

"Yes... it's just that you've never called me by my name before. Well, you've called me by my name once before. Any other time you've called me 'Angel'."

"Well, an angel though you may be, your name is not 'Angel'. It's Christine."

She smiled, then started to walk again. "Well, I'm glad that you think that I'm an angel, but I'm not."

"You are an angel," he said firmly. "You're my angel."

"Well, thank you. I'm flattered. Secondly, I'm glad that you've chosen to call me by my name. It was nice to call me 'Angel', but I was beginning to find it rather tiresome after you knew me - no offense." She stepped onto the gondola and helped him on. Then she grabbed the rowing rod and started to row away.

After she started rowing, he looked up at her and said, "Well, you're quite brilliant, Christine."

She looked down at him and laughed. "I'm brilliant? What makes you say that?"

"You wrote Genius's Mistake all by yourself, did you not?"

"Yes."

He nodded. "Well, that's brilliant. It's a wonderful piece of work, it is. I'm flattered that you put me in the lead male role."

She smiled. "Thank you." She looked up and saw the gate opening. "We're here," she said brightly.

The gate opened, and she rowed inside. Then it closed and the curtain dropped back as she rowed onto the shore of the lake.

Then she stepped off of the gondola, pulled off her cloak, hung it up, and placed the rowing rod down on the ground. She walked over to him and extended her hand to him. "Come."

He took her hand and stepped off of the gondola. Then he looked around the lair, fascinated. "Wow," he breathed. "I'd forgotten how beautiful everything was here." He looked at her and smiled. "It's good to be back."

She led him up to the piano and sat him down on the sofa. "Now," she said, sitting down on the piano bench, "what would you like to do? Have some tea? Eat some supper? Sleep?"

He yawned and stretched. "Well, I'd like to have some tea first, please. Then I think I'll go to bed. I'm feeling rather tired."

She nodded. "All right. Tea it is." Then she rose and walked into the kitchen to make some tea.

A few minutes later, she walked back out into the main part of the lair with a tray with a teapot, saucers, and teacups. She placed it down on the table. "There you go," she said, then started pouring tea. Then she sliced some lemon, placed it on the cup, and handed him the cup. "Here."

"Thank you," he said, taking the cup and sipping his tea. Then he placed it down and motioned to the cup. "What kind of tea is this? It's not English."

"No, it's not," she said, shaking her head. "I don't make English tea. It's Russian tea with lemon. My father used to make it a lot."

"Ah. It's quite good."

"Thank you."

He finished his tea and placed his cup back on the table. Then he yawned and stretched again. "Oh, I'm tired," he sighed. He rose. "I'm going to bed. Good night, Christine."

She nodded and smiled. "Good night, Cameron."

Without saying another word, he walked into his bedroom and shut the door behind him.

The decision was made.

The best thing about it? I won! He chose me over Emilie Chastain! I get to be with him again... even if it's for just a bit longer.

For a moment, I felt guilty about it, because I know what I've done. I've taken his heart and cruelly twisted it into submission. I threatened that he would never see me again if he chose her, halfway aware that he wants to continue to be tutored by his Angel of Music.

I even felt bad for Emilie Chastain for a moment. She loves him, and now I've taken him away from her for some time by making him postpone her delightful little wedding to him.

But now I don't feel bad for her... it's a terrible mistake to start pitying the enemy!

All I care about is having Cameron back, and that's exactly what has happened.