A/N: hope that you guys like this story. If you have any questions or comments or suggestions please tell me. If you don't like it, tell me and tell me why, but try not to be mean. I want feed back, but only positive. R&R!

God bless this broken road

Ch1 the truth comes out

Emma was Raoul and Christine's daughter. She was tall, beautiful, and like her mother, the operas diva. She had her father's strong will, and quick temper. But there was something in her that neither parents possessed, an incredible likeness to someone in her mother and fathers past. Christine, though proud of Emma, could not quiet be the mother that she wanted to be to her, because of the likeness to someone in her past. Her mother never knew who it was until she was six-teen. Until that time it remained a mystery to everyone until that time.

Emma's voice excelled at an incredible rate. She soon was the diva of the opera. Unlike her mother, Emma did not have a "Carlotta" standing in her way. She didn't have a "Phantom" either. Well, not exactly, there was someone, but he was a little different. His name was Erik as well, although this time it was not so much by accident. His past wasn't so dark, just long and sad.

Emma was going back to her dressing room one night after a performance one night, and saw a strange boy lurking in the shadows.

"Excuse me, may I help you?" Emma asked. But the boy turned, took one quick look at Emma and ran.

"Waite! What's your name?" Emma called but the boy did not stop and answer her.

"Oh well, maybe I'll see him later." She thought to herself.

She went into her dressing room, closing the door behind herself. She sat down in front of her mirror and began to undress; she was alone, completely alone. Or, so she thought.

"Uhh! This cursed corset! I hate them!" Emma cursed; fumbling with the strings, she got it off and let it fall to the floor. She walked nude over to her closet to choose a night gown. The one she chooses was a light blue, see threw gown. She pulled it over head, it caressed her every curve, especially her breast. In the mirror or behind it really, someone watched. He watched every night. But no one ever knew.

There was a knock at the door.

"Come in!" Emma called.

In came a woman.

"Oh, hello Madame Giry." She said.

Madame Giry was not the Madame Giry that we know, but Meg Giry.

"You were wonderful tonight." She praised, "You are staying here tonight?"

"Yes, well, I…." Emma could not find the words she needed.

"Yes, I understand, your mother has changed. For the worst. But it's not her fault, nor yours." Madame Girly said.

"Well, then whose fault is it?" Emma questioned.

"I'll tell you but you cannot tell anyone what I am about to tell you." Madame Giry began, Emma nodded in agreement. "When your mother was the same age as you are, she was, well, haunted, I guess you could say. A man by the name of Erik haunted her every step. He held her with him; your father had to risk his life to save her. I don't think that the scares ever healed…"

Emma could not begin to fathom what was just told to her. Sure she had heard the story if the Phantom of the opera, her mother and father would never talk about it, or tell it to her, her friend at the opera, Christian had to tell her, but to know that it had been them, was unbelievable. But there was just one thing that she did not understand…

"But there's just one thing that I don't understand, Madame Giry, what does this have to do with me?" Emma asked.

"Emma, you have some of the phantom in you, and your mother knows it, whether she chooses to acknowledge it or not, it's there, I see it to. Your father is able to deal with it better than your mother." Madame Giry whispered.

Once again Emma was left speechless. Everything had now made sense. Why her mother would not come to her dressing room, Emma had been told that it once belonged to her mother. Why she hated coming to Emma's performances, why she hated Emma so. Emma loved her mother with all her heart, but she never could understand. It hurt her to much to talk or think about it. When Christian brought it up or anyone for that matter, she would get defensive.

"What happened? To the phantom I mean?" she wondered

"I think he died after your mother left him." Madame Giry said. "Now, it's late, you must get some rest, we have busy day tomorrow."

"Waite, before I came into my room, I saw a boy," she said hurriedly.

"Hmmm… you did, oh well." Madame Giry said absent mindedly, preparing herself to leave.

"He was tall; he wasn't much older than me. He had handsome eyes, blue I think deep blue. His hair was black. He looked very strong. But he had a mask on, the right side of his face, like he was hiding something…." She drifted off; she had a far off look to her eyes.

Madame Giry had stopped what she was doing to listen. Cold fear ran through her, could there really be another Phantom? No, there couldn't possibly be, the last one died, and his house had been destroyed. No, there could not have been another Phantom. Still Madame Giry remained cautious.

"He probably was just a ragamuffin, playing in the costumes." She tried to pretend to dismiss the boy like he was nothing.

They bid each other good night; Emma's mind could not leave the boy. As she blew out her candle, the boy behind the mirror, left her, and went below the opera house.

X

Over the next few days, Emma would see the boy everywhere she went. She thought she should be scared that he was fallowing her, but for some reason, she liked the feeling that he was fallowing her. She

would secretly pretend that he was her secret lover, and only they knew. She loved that feeling of secrecy and deceit.

Soon she was so obsessed with "My boy" as she called him, that she had to talk to him. Over the next few days she thought about how she would go about it. Every time she got close he would run. Soon, her plan was made, and the time to execute it came…