Hey everybody! I'm sad to say that this is the last chapter…but don't worry, there will be more, and I'm trying to come up with ideas for a sequel, which might take a while for me to get in writing. I appreciate everybody reading, and I appreciate your encouragement. I was thinking about splitting this into two chapters, but I didn't, so it's pretty long.
ENJOY!
Down Once More
Down further beneath the opera house once more they went. He knew his spell was broken. Christine had seen him with no cover. She had finally unmasked the Phantom of the Opera in his entirety. She had chosen, and now she resisted, pulling him, trying to slow him in vain.
Down through the tunnels below the Opera House, Christine struggling behind. One last time to the dungeon that held his deep despair, the cavernous lair that had become the prison he was trapped in, separated from the world above. The stone paths that led to his personal hell. The stone faces that mocked and ridiculed him as they ran by, their grey eyes laughing.
He rounded on Christine, and she ran into him. "Why you ask was I bound and chained in this cold and dismal place? Not for any mortal sin, but the wickedness of my abhorrent face!"
Erik could see the fear that now filled Christine's face as they made their was, heading toward the lake. She had been so content a few moments before, now she was struggling against him. She had chosen, and she couldn't go back. The woman who had understood him was turning away. His dear Christine, his angel who had sung and written such beautiful words was fleeing from him, because of his face.
They reached the lake, and they entered the boat. Christine had calmed, but he could feel her fear in the air. As he pushed the gondola feverishly to his lair, Christine shifted uneasily, rocking the boat, but still said nothing.
As the lair grew closer, the collection of his work grew visible, Christine spoke softly, her voice quiet.
"Why? After all of this…why?" she said. She wanted to know why? The boat landed on the shore with a hard jolt, and he jumped out, grabbing Christine and dragging her with him, up towards his organ.
"Hounded out by everyone, met with hatred everywhere," he said, stopping and grabbing her perfect head in his hands, making her look into his eyes. "No kind words from anyone, no compassion anywhere. Christine, why?"
They stood there for a moment, Erik looking into Christine's eyes. He saw pity, compassion, and still a hint of that fear. She had to understand the pain that he felt. Now, after they had shared so much, she dared to turn away? His angel had to understand.
He followed closely behind Madame Giry, not wanting to lose sight of her as they went through the damp, worn, spiraling stair that led down below the Opera House. He pulled ahead of her and the torch that lit the dim stairs, feverishly making his way down the stair as fast as he could without falling. The Opera Populaire was lowly burning, and Christine was down below with that monster.
Suddenly, Madame Giry stopped, and Raoul turned to look at her. She was looking over the side into the black pit that led to the very bottom, the dungeons of the Opera House. "This is as far as I dare go," she said. So he was on his own now. He nodded to her.
"Thank you," he said. He took one last look down and took off down the stairs. He needed to get to Christine before something happened to her. Despite his betrayal, he found now that he truly loved her. His dear Christine, his childhood sweetheart. He stripped off his scarf and jacket, leaving them behind in the tunnel.
He kept going down and down the seemingly never-ending stair, when something happened. The ground gave way beneath his feet, and he let out as a gasp as he fell. He fell into what seemed like a pit of ice. The water chilled him to the bone, taking his breath away. He came up, gasping for breath. He took a quick glance around, taking in the damp, mossy walls that lined the pit, and the doorway that was to be his escape. He swam towards it, but then he heard a tremendous creaking above him. He looked up and saw a steel grate descending upon him quickly.
Raoul's breathing grew faster as he looked for something to make it stop. Nothing. He looked down in the water, and saw a wheel attached to some sort of mechanism. He took a deep breath, and dove down, reaching the wheel and trying to turn it, but it was rusted. His heart grew loud in his ears as he used all of his strength to try and turn the wheel. It wouldn't budge. He couldn't hold his breath any longer.
The grate was just high enough so that he could get one last breath – maybe the last breath of his life. He took the air greedily and dove down once again to the wheel, and grasped it, bracing himself against the walls of the pit. He had to get out of there to save Christine. He pulled, his breath growing short, his heart pounding harder and harder and the stored oxygen in his lungs ran low. He could hardly stand the urge to breath anymore, and he gave one last jerk.
The wheel slammed his direction as the mechanism triggered, pulling the chain that allowed the grate to rise again. Raoul swam up and gasped for air, his lungs burning. He swam to the doorway and climbed out of the water, soaking wet from head to toe as he walked through the tunnels, the only thought on his mind was trying to save Christine.
What had she done? What fate had she condemned herself to? She had never seen him so malevolent and grievous. She pitied him now. Felt sorry for the horrible life that he had to live, how he had to live day by day and see that tragic face, how Erik had to live in the shadows, kept away from the world that had rejected him.
His eyes full of such sadness, despair, and longing. He had shown her the dress he wore before, when she had first come down to his lair, and she had never realized what a marvel it was. It was perfectly white, lace trimming and off-the-shoulder silk sleeves. It fit her like a glove, perfectly fit to her body.
She didn't want to upset him. Erik had seen enough pain in his life, and he didn't need any from her. He had begun the process of burning her life, her home, to the ground. Her cheeks were streaked with fallen tears, her eyes large and glazed, but she no longer looked afraid as she had. Her eyes strayed from her reflection and settled on something beside it.
It was a drawing of her, sitting in the chapel at the piano, no doubt playing. The details were amazing, and it took her breath away at how real, yet surreal it was. She was there, really playing the piano, but the shadows were morphed into shapes and faces, watching her. She noticed that there was a black ribbon in her hair and a lone rose sitting on the piano. His whole life was truly dedicated to her and his music.
She vaguely remembered the room with the swan bed. She turned and saw the small music box. The small monkey that had been perched on top that played the symbols. She approached the small table and saw the petals that she had given him so long ago. And on the other side of them was her notebook. "All Falls Silent."
Christine walked back toward Erik, and the mannequin that had once worn her dress. He stood down below, admiring something in his hands. What had they all done? She had loved two men, Raoul had loved her, and so had Erik, all of them condemned for the same crime. Love. But Erik, he had gone so far as to kill two men, and now burning down her home to get her and win her over. Why? Christine went cold. She needed to force the answers out of him. She needed to know why.
"Have you gorged yourself at last in your lust for blood?" she said, approaching him slowly. "Am I now to be prey to your lust for flesh?"
Erik looked up at her, something that she couldn't recognize filled his face, quickly replaced by the sadness that she could hardly bear to see. "That fate which condemns me to wallow in blood has also denied me the joys of the flesh," he said, coming closer to her. Christine didn't draw away, but stood her ground. Erik reached out and touched her cheek gently. "This face, the infection which poisons our love. This face, which earned a mother's fear and loathing. A mask, my first cold, unfeeling scrap of clothing."
Christine's eyes filled with tears unseen to Erik as he turned to the mannequin and grabbed the bridal veil from it, holding it in his hands, progressing slowly back towards her. He had been shunned by everyone, including his own family because of the face that he was born with. The face that she had once forgotten how to see. He had been trapped in this opera house, no doubt, for years and couldn't show his face to the world. The only way he could ever show the world who he was was through his music.
The veil was placed roughly on top of her head, and she listened carefully to Erik's words, trying to find a way to respond. "Pity comes too late," he said, placing his hands on her shoulders, and turning her to him, forcing her to look at the tears that fell down those cheeks. One of her own tears fell. "You must turn around to face your fate, with an eternity of this before your eyes."
Erik took her hand and placed a ring in it. She looked down at admired it. Where had he gotten it from? Its many diamonds glittered in the light that reflected off of the lake. It was beautiful, but was it just him trying to buy her love back knowing that he had destroyed her home? She didn't put it on immediately, but walked away from Erik and towards one of the mirrors that lined the walls. She pulled away the sheet that covered it and spoke to him quietly.
"This haunted face holds no horror for me now," she said, looking back towards him. "It's in your soul that the true distortion lies."
Erik couldn't stand to come under her burning glaze anymore. He turned away, his hopes shattered as Christine rejected him, seeing now only the monster that was portrayed by the face that she had seen. He looked around, seeing his home that he had been trapped in that had once felt so lonely, but then she had come, and he had felt whole for once in his life. Accepted by another, but that had changed. His love was turning against him, despite all that he did for her, she rejected him.
Then, a sound came to his ears. Splashing in the distance. He looked out beyond the large metal gate, and saw a figure wading through the water towards the lair, soaked all over. The Vicomte. It was all his fault. He turned to Christine, a twisted smile on his face as a plan popped into his mind.
"Wait, my dear," he said. "I believe we have a guest. Sir – "
"Raoul?" said his angel from behind, seeing the Vicomte also. It was time for her to decide, once and for all. This was the final battle.
"This is indeed," said Erik, continuing, "an unparalleled delight. I had rather hoped that you had come. Indeed, dear sir, you have truly made my night." Erik laughed as he grabbed Christine to him. It was his time to pay for all the pain that he had caused them all.
"Free her!" pleaded the Vicomte, helplessly grasping at the bars of the gate. Erik released Christine from his grasp and stood, watching the pathetic patron plead at his mercy. "Let her go! What are you doing? Have you no pity?"
"Your lover makes a passionate plea," said Erik to Christine who stood beside him, watching the Vicomte. It was entertaining to watch him there, praying that he could get his dear Christine back. He could, and wouldn't. She was in the hands of the Phantom of the Opera. The man who loved her.
"Please, Raoul," said Christine, "Please, don't do this."
"I love her!" shouted the Vicomte. "I love her with everything I am, and does that mean nothing? Show some compassion –"
"Compassion?" snarled Erik furiously. "The world has shown no compassion to me!"
"Please," said the Vicomte, his chin quivering from the chill of the water, "Let me see her."
The plan was set. Erik walked to the top of the stairs and pulled the lever that controlled the gate. It moved upward slowly, and he proceeded down the stairs and slowly into the lake as the Vicomte moved under the gate into the lair.
"Monsieur, I bid you a fond welcome," said Erik, slipping into the cold water, drawing closer to the Vicomte. Closer to his revenge that hid under the water. "Did you truly think that I could harm her? Tell me, why would I make her pay for the sins which are yours?"
The gate shut behind the Vicomte, and he turned to see what it was, giving Erik the perfect opportunity to get him. He reached down below the water and felt the rope of the lasso that he had hidden in the water so long ago. As the Vicomte stood facing the gate, he threw it out, casting it perfectly around the Vicomte's neck. Erik threw him against the gate with all of his now burning rage. He tied him tightly to the gate, restricting all his movement. When he struggled, Erik shoved his shoulders back, forcing him to hit his head on the steel.
"Go and order your fine horses now!" he taunted him, tying the knots that held the Vicomte down. "Keep your hands at the level of your eyes! Nothing can save you now – except perhaps, for Christine!"
Such an infantile movement had cost him perhaps his life. He struggled against the Phantom, but could not fight against the pure hatred that he was. He tried as he could to get out of the ropes that bound him tightly to the gate, but he was thrown back, pain shooting through the back of his head. He was delirious for a moment, and came back to his senses when he saw the horrible face so close to his, snarling at him, throwing twisted laughs and words in his face.
He was trapped, helpless in the hands of the Phantom of the Opera. He couldn't move. Raoul's eyes followed the Phantom as he moved away, listening closely to the words that he said the Christine.
"Either you start a new life with me," he shouted, his voice growing rough and deep, "And he is allowed to go free. But refuse me to go with him, and you send him to his death! This is the choice! This is the point of no return!"
That was no choice! Raoul looked to Christine as she stood high above the water, looking down at them both. He could see the tears that coursed down her cheeks. He was truly a monster. He couldn't force Christine to love him by making her his prisoner, and he not could make her love him by killing him.
"So long ago, I would have shed tears for your dark fate," said Christine, facing the Phantom. "But now, they seem to grow cold and turn to the tears of hate."
Raoul had to watch helplessly as Christine stood pleading and the Phantom walked to grab the rope of the lasso that he should have avoided. He had no way of helping Christine. There was no way that he could save her from this monster.
"Christine, dear Christine," he pled to her, hoping that she would hear him. "Please forgive me. I did everything for you, and in vain. All of this wasted. You can't let him do this! I love you!"
Tears sprang to his eyes as he was ignored by Christine, who spoke only to the Phantom. He struggled wildly, but he still couldn't move as the ties that bound him grew tighter with every passing moment, his breathing growing labored. It had been all his fault. If only he had given the signal to have him shot, if only he had spent more time with her. It was too late for going back.
He was trapped, and the only way out was through the choice of Christine. She was lying to the Phantom to save him. To get him out. Christine could never love this monster. She really loved him. Loved him enough to go with the Phantom to ensure his safety. His life depended upon her choice. Either he left alone, or dead.
She couldn't believe that he had done this to her. Trapped Raoul, and forced her to make such a decision. Christine followed Erik with her eyes, watching as he progressed toward the lasso that he was taking down to Raoul. So she saw the true Phantom. What had happened to him? She knew that somewhere beneath this murdering man was the man that she loved. Couldn't he himself see that? She had to make him see.
"Erik, when will you finally see truth?" she asked him as he fiercely turned and plunged back once more into the water to Raoul. "We had such hopes, and now those hopes are shattering. Why are you doing this to me?"
She was shaking horribly from seeing him like that, and seeing her dear friend in such despair. She knew that he loved her, but she found still that she still loved him as a friend. Erik had escalated it to so much more than that. She heard his threats and Raoul's pleas as the noose was beginning to tighten around her own neck.
"It's too late for prayers and useless pity," said Erik, growing ever closer to Raoul with the noose. "It's too late to go back, too late to change what you've done. You can't fight any longer, can't cry for help. Anyway you choose, you cannot win this game. End your days with me, or you send him to his grave!"
Behind him, Christine could make out the words of Raoul. He cries were growing more hysterical as Erik moved nearer. "Christine, don't let him! You can't let this monster tear us apart. If you say you love him, my life is over. Anyway you choose, he has to win!" Christine flinched as the noose was placed around his neck, and Erik pulled it mercilessly, taunting her, forcing her to choose.
"Why make her lie to you to save me?" said Raoul. Christine wouldn't lie to Erik about what she felt. Raoul was deluding him, making Erik think that she was lying. Did Raoul think that she loved him, not Erik? Did he truly believe that she was lying to Erik to save him?
She found it harder to breathe in as tears flooded her eyes as she tried to force Erik once more to see what he was doing.
"Erik, who truly deserves this?" she asked him as he held the rope of the noose. "When will you see reason? My Angel of Music, will you trust me? I gave you my heart fully."
"You try my patience," said Erik, hearing only the thoughts in his mind, not fully hearing her words. "Make your choice."
So it was. Which man would she destroy for her happiness?
He held the rope tight in his hands, ready to pull at Christine's word. His hands burned as the fibers of the rope drove into his skin. It was her choice now, the Vicomte's fate held in her hands.
She could delay no longer. It was time for her to make her choice. He could hear the beating of his racing heart and ragged breathing in the silence. It seemed forever that the silence lasting, his love making her choice. He couldn't move his eyes away from her tear-streaked face. He saw her shake her head and then slowly met his eyes.
The eyes that he had fallen in love with. His heart began to race faster as his angel walked down into the frigid water toward him. Could she have really chosen him over the Vicomte? But why? Doubts flooded his mind as she resolutely made her way towards him. Could the Vicomte have been right? Could she just be lying to him to save the Vicomte's life?
"Pitiful creature of darkness, what kind of life have you known? God give me courage to show you you are not alone."
The Vicomte's words echoed in his mind. "Why make her lie to you to save me?" His beautiful Christine in his wedding dress, coming closer. Could she really lie to him?
Erik's hands loosened from the rope unconsciously. Something had changed in that moment. Christine had changed as she grew closer. Her face had darkened, the lake casting an ethereal glow on her cheeks, and she seemed to change into a dark beauty. The beauty that he had seen in the darkness had finally taken shape in the day.
He saw her slip on the ring that he had given her. His proposal ring. Then, happiness for the first time in his life. Christine's soft lips touched his wit ha passion that he had wanted to feel. All the passion of their lives spilled out into that one kiss. The warmth of their breath entwined was the warmth that he had wanted to feel from the world for his music. The compassion and empathy that he had only found from Christine, whom he had deceived to be near.
That one blissful moment ended, and tears burst out from him. Tears of happiness and joy, but also of pity. For her. She had never deserved to be with him. He was disfigured. She needed to be with someone that could give her all she needed and deserved. Erik looked one last time through his own tears into those piercing blue eyes that had been his light in his darkness. Raoul was right. She didn't need to lie to save him. He didn't need anymore blood on his hands for her. It was over.
He had lost her.
He stared in horror as Christine drew even closer to the Phantom, never casting a glance toward him. Was she taking a final, extreme step to achieve his freedom? Or did she truly love this murderer over him?
When she reached forward and kissed the Phantom, Raoul felt as though all of his efforts to save her had failed. Would his Christine go through such a deception to save him? Tears once more flooded his eyes as he watched them embrace with a passion that he could feel crushed inside his heart.
As he stood there, still pinned against the steel gate, he noticed something. There on Christine's finger was a diamond engagement ring. She was not supposed to wear a ring. Had the Phantom proposed to her and she accepted with that kiss? He had heard no other words passed between them. What had happened?
Raoul heard the crackling of flames growing in the distance and heard shouting accompanying it. He could make out some of the enraged screams growing closer, coming down towards them.
"This murderer must be found!" "Who is this monster!" "Hang him like he hung Buquet!"
Raoul began to understand why he was the way he was. The two had finally separated, and Christine stood there, smiling weakly through shining tears at the Phantom. Disfigured and scarred no only physically, but mentally, trapped in a cage for his childhood, considered a freak, this was the one place where he would not be threatened by the judgment of those around him. Christine had been the only one who saw his pain and understood it. Raoul understood his longing for love, but Christine wouldn't go with him.
Raoul was ecstatic when the Phantom turned away from Christine. His face grievous, the good side twisted in pain, tears flowing freely as he shoved Christine towards him, pushing her through the lake.
So, the Phantom had come to his senses and accepted the fact that he would live alone. He sighed in relief. He waited for Christine to rush to his arms and set him free.
Raoul waited. He opened his eyes to see Christine untying his right hand and she took the noose off of his neck. Raoul searched her face for relief, but never found it. Her eyes were sad, more tears flowing down her sweet face.
"Oh Christine," sighed Raoul. "I'm so glad you're back. We have to go."
"I can't," said Christine.
What?
That kiss had been the best moment of her life. It had at once turned to one of her worst. He hadn't believed her words. Raoul had convinced him that she was lying. Seeing those tears of pain flowing down Erik' face made her realize how much that Erik had truly cared for her, and how much she cared for him in return.
Her spirit had once more soared while she had been with him. In that moment she had felt as one with him as when they sang together. She listened and watched closely as she was shoved away him, water splashing about her. She stood and watched as her love fell into a deep despair, painful tears streaming down his face.
Christine stood, immobilized as she watched Erik walk up the stairs and shout back to them.
"Go! Take her and forget all of this! Just leave me alone, forget all you've seen! Don't let them find you! Swear to me never to tell the secret you know of the Angel in Hell!"
The voice that had been so calm and beautiful was twisted into painful sobs as Erik moved with such labor away from her. He stopped to look back at her standing there.
"Why are you waiting? Go now! Go now and leave me!"
Christine turned, shaking, toward Raoul. Her childhood friend and sweetheart. The boy who had ran into the sea to fetch her scarf. He never deserved to die, despite what he had done to hurt her. She walked toward him in the high water and took the noose off of his neck. She fumbled with the rope on his hand. Her hands shook as controlled sobs racked through her body.
Finally, when she had finished , Raoul spoke: "Oh, Christine," he sighed. "I'm so glad you're back. We have to go."
Christine shook her head weakly as she looked into his brown eyes. "I can't," she said. She couldn't bear to look into his eyes. She started to walk toward the lair, the organ that she had been amazed by the first time she saw it.
"Christine!" shouted Raoul from behind her. She stepped on shore and turned around to face him. He was working feverishly to free himself from the binding ropes, his eyes flashing up at her. "Wait! What are you doing?"
Christine smiled at Raoul as he continued to struggle. After all of this, he had to understand why she had to do this. He was going to know why she needed Erik and couldn't go with him.
"Raoul," she said, her voice steady and determined. "I'm going with him. He'll die if I don't go with him –"
"I'll die if you go with him!" shouted Raoul as his other hand came free.
"You'll die!" said Christine, her voice rising slightly. "I'll die! Raoul, you were and always will be my friend. But you never understood my music. You never understood why I needed to write. He dd. He understood. He cared and listened."
"I cared! I still do!" said Raoul, freeing his torso. Christine knew that he loved her, and still did. Christine held her ground firmly.
"Then show me," said Christine. "He loved me enough to let me go with you. If you love me enough, let me go with him."
She deserved much more from life than to be trapped in the dark with him. She deserved to be happy with Raoul. He had been right. She had only lied to save his life. Christine could never care for a man with such a hideous face as his.
He sat in front of his small stand that his music box sat on. It played its soft melody as he looked at the gleeful monkey clapping the small golden cymbals together.
"Masquerade…paper faces on parade," he sang softly, thinking how true those words were for him, "Masquerade…hide your face so the world will never find you."
He had once thought that Christine would see passed his face. She would have been the only one in his entire life that had seen the real him. After spending years in a circus, labeled a freak of nature, tormented by all who saw him, Christine had been the one. She had seen his soul, shared in his emptiness and loneliness. Now she was gone. Off with the Vicomte to live a happy life.
As he sat, he felt a presence behind him, along with the growing sound of crackling flames. He turned around and his heart exploded. There stood Christine, in the doorway of his room. Her beautiful blue eyes stared at him in the dim light, the fresh tears falling down her cheeks. His dear Angel had come back. But why? And had she come to stay?
As she walked closer, he noticed that she still had his ring on. The beautiful ring that he had gotten her for their engagement. He looked at her beautiful face, taking in the woman that had been his life, and would continue to be for the rest of his life. His dear Christine.
She walked slowly toward him, and it took all the strength he had not to burst out into more tears as she approached, his hopes soaring that for maybe one time, he would be happy. As she drew closer, his heart beat faster as faster, the anticipation growing. She was beautiful, so ethereal in this time, he thought her to only be a dream.
Her pale hand reached out and touched the leather of the notebook that she had given him. Her opera. Her hand slid across the cover in such a smooth and ghostly manner, but her hand reached up to touch his face, and he felt it. He closed his eyes and savored her touch, cold as it was, for as long as he could.
"You must go," he said, the words coming out with the greatest effort. "They are coming."
He heard nothing, but felt the caress of Christine's lips on his once more. It felt wonderful, the sensation that he would carry with him forever. He opened his eyes and saw that Christine was still standing in front of him, staring down at him with those eyes. Her mouth was pulled into a slight smile, and she grabbed his hand and pulled him to his feet.
"Come, we must go quickly," she said. She looked around the room one last time and he watched as she grabbed her leather notebook and hugged it to her chest. What was she doing? Did she truly want to come with him? Leave the world she had known before and finally be with him? "We must hurry before they find us. Hurry."
She did. Erik sighed with relief, but they had to leave their homes, find a way to start over. He looked to his small table one last time. There now sat his mask. The one that he no longer needed to hide from the world. He no longer needed to hide from Christine. And his music box. He needed neither.
They walked out into the cavern, and he could catch a glimpse of the Vicomte poling away from them in the gondola. He held Christine's hand tightly as she followed behind, fearing that she would leave him again, and made his way to one of his mirrors. He uncovered it, looking at his reflection in the mirror.
He still saw the deformity, but it wasn't as horrible as he had once thought. Yes, there was a man who had been disfigured, tortured, and ridiculed, but in his eyes was a completely transformed musician. His eyes were bright, practically smiling as he searched for the spring that opened the mirror. He found it on the left side, just above the middle of the mirror. It swung open, and Christine went in front of him. He made sure the curtain fell back down and the mirror swung closed.
He was finally going home.
They walked through the dark tunnels behind the mirror quickly. Christine led the way, the man of her dreams guiding her from behind, her hand sitting comfortably in his. His voice was soft and gentle as he guided her. It was the voice that she had fallen in love with. She clutched her leather bound book to her chest. Christine wouldn't dare part with it. It was too much a part of who she was, and who they were as a whole.
Finally, Christine saw a light growing in front of her. She headed for it, and crossed the threshold into the cold Daae Tomb. She saw her father's concrete casket sat in front of her, and she stopped to admire it. She remembered the day of his burial. This was her final goodbye. She had achieved her dreams, and so much more. The great Gustave Daae had kept his promise of an angel.
"Come, we must move quickly," said the angel, tugging her hand toward the stairs that led up to the cemetery. She followed behind, tears falling now for her father. She wished he could see her for one time.
They came up in the cemetery, and walked away from the tomb. Christine could see the spiraling smoke coming from the direction of the Opera House. She looked one last time at her father's grave and remembered:
"I never knew your name," she said to her angel.
"You know my name," he said, turning to her and placing a soft kiss on her forehead.
"But how? What is it?" she asked.
"Erik."
