A/N: Lovin' all the reviews! Keep 'em coming:D

"Have you seen Christine, Monsieur?" Madame Giry asked, noticing the Persian walking around in the lobby, admiring different art pieces.

"Hmm? Oh, I just saw her here a few hours ago. I am restless, there shall be no sleep for me tonight, and they have officially closed the doors to the jailhouse. I thought I'd stay around here, if the managers do not mind."

"They will not even notice. They wont come until morning. Thank you for taking care of Christine, though, Monsieur. It's only common knowledge that the girl needs to be looked after right now."

"Indeed. You asked me if I seen her...is she not in her room?"

"She isnt. But if she is not here, I have a strong feeling of where she must be."

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Christine moaned as she felt her shoulder being shaken, and her name being lightly called. She didn't want to open her eyes - she was having the most wonderful dream; her and Erik were back in that blue house by the sea. She was laying on the davenport with the roaring warm fire not far from her. And Erik was rocking slowly back and forth, singing her the sweetest lullaby she ever heard. As she was being shaken to her senses, she realized that it was the lullaby he used to sing her to sleep with when she laid awake at night with nightmares that she had all too often. Another shake made her moan more, her hand gently slapping air.

"Christine, please, wake up! Christine Daae, stop trying to slap me and wake up before someone catches you and I down here!"

Madame Giry's sharp tone made Christine's eyes flutter open. She looked sadly at her elder, as the realization of the last happy few hours were just a mere dream.

"Come, child. Finish your dream up stairs." Madame Giry said in a lighter, more sympathetic tone.

Christine nodded, and wearily followed her. It was only when Christine was lying in the safety of her own bed, her eyes closing in sleep the moment her head fell on the pillow when Madame Giry noticed something shimmering in the pale moon light. A ring. A diamond ring...

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"Christine, wake up. Rehearsals are in a matter of minutes! I let you sleep as long as I could, but you really must hurry now." Madame Giry said, once again shaking Christine's shoulder.

Christine merely groaned in protest, rolling over onto her side, away from the bothersome shaking. Finally, her eyes opened. As the misty thoughts began to fade from her mind, she stared into the mournful face of Madame Giry. At first, it bewildered Christine, not understanding why she looked like so. Then it hit her, as all the breath in her lungs was knocked out.

"It's Friday...oh dear Lord...it's Friday!" Christine said in a disbelieving tone. Madame Giry continued to look the same.

"Dress, child. Ready yourself for rehearsals. Eat a bite of something, then come to the theater. You'll need to practice." She said, then turned to leave.

"Madame..." Christine called out, stopping her. When she turned back to Christine, she had a strange sickly smile upon her lips.

"Seems so like him, when you think about it." She said in a soft tone. "How he has you thinking that you're only helping him, when really, he's also helping you in return. He told you to sing your heart out for this performance...and you agreed. And because you do so, you'll regain the reconition that you should have remained before - you will not be known for all the things he has done to you, but for you. You will be known as a great actress and soprano. The last thing that he will do before his life ends...is to help you." Being satisfied in what she said, Madame Giry turned back to the doorway and left through it, leaving Christine to be tormented by new thoughts.

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"Christine, eat! Really, you must eat something! You refused me at breakfast, it is now time for the afternoon meal. This is the last chance you have to eat before the show." Madame Giry said as Christine waited on the sidelines to enter the stage. Her eyes stayed on Meg, whom begged to be a dancer still in this, not wanting to be left out just because she had no voice. For once, Madame Giry received many demanding notes, but from her daughter - not the phantom.

"I'm not hungry, Madame." Christine whispered. So far, she had yet to speak in a louder tone. How was she to get through this show?

"Now Christine, be reasonable. You know how you develope faint spells when you skip meals. Already you will be eating a very late dinner, if at all .Please eat something!"

But Christine shook her head and grabbed her basket of roses. In bare feet, she entered the stage, singing her lines in perfect tone. She tried not to notice everyone staring at her. All week their gaping mouths and large eyes were focused on her, as if they all knew her secret. Perhaps these people who known her all her life did know her deepest secret.

A young boy came through the doors. "I have been sent to fetch a Mademoiselle Daae." He said. Christine stopped singing, but it was not she who answered the boy.

"She may have no visitors of right now, young boy. She is in rehearsals." Firmin said, standing up. He and Andre had been sitting in the far corner of the first floor theater to watch the progress of their fine show.

"But sir, he is a patron here, and demands to see her right away. It was not a request." The boy said in a pleading tone.

Firmin's expression was immediantly changed. "Oh...well, you should have said so in the beginning. Miss Daae, would you please take a break?"
Christine sighed, putting her basket down and walking down the aisle. She was in no mood to be chatting with any patron, let alone the one she knew it would be.

The young boy opened the doors to her, revealing Raoul behind them.

"Have you dismissed Erik's sentence?" She asked hopefully.

"I have not." He answered. Quickly she turned her back and started to go back into the theater, but he grabbed her arm lightly and turned her back.

"I have a few questions for you. You promised to answer them."

"Not now, Raoul! Not today!" Christine pleaded. How could he expect her to do such a thing on such a horrible day?

"Yes, Christine - today. I may be your friend, but I also must be a leader to others. The officers have been after me, saying if I do not question you, they shall. Would you rather speak to them?"

After the last conversation they had, Christine was tempted to say yes, but held her tongue and simply shook her head no.

"There now, see? We can get through this. It isnt very long. Just tell me...did the phantom take the sword from the hotel? The truth now."

"I am not aware of a sword, I told you this before." Christine said, anxious now to get back to the theater. She rather be there than here - she knew it was the lesser of the two evils.

"What about the man? Did he ever go after any one? A farmer, perhaps?"

Christine shook her head again. "I don't know. I slept alot...he didn't. But I know if he did anything, it was for my protection."

"Christine, did he attack anyone?" Raoul asked again, not satisfied with her answer.

"I just told you; not that I am aware of."

Raoul sighed. He could see through her, she knew he could. Why did he torture her so?

"Raoul...may I ask you a question now?" She said softly.

"Sure, I suppose. I can see that I might as well be done here."

"How...how did you find us? We were in Perros...but not where anyone would suspect. The officers...they seem to know the exact house."

"He just wasn't very careful, is all. First the managers of the hotel you stayed in said there was an odd...couple, at least one of you seemed to fit the description quite well. Then there was the missing sword. Not far from that hotel was the body of a farmer found. He was very badly scraped up; I suppose his accident could have killed him. But there was one cut on his neck...it seemed too precise; too rightly placed for it be just so happen something random cut him there. And then that same sword from the hotel was found a few hours up the road in a thick forest. There was also the missing opera horse wandering around. He seemed to have trampled into the town and was eating all the hay from an open field. Also, not far from the body was the remains of a dress, smothered and partly devoured by ashes. It was taken back to be questioned. We asked Madame Giry if it belonged to you, but then Meg passed by and exclaimed that it was her missing dress. There were remains of fires, though kicked about, all up to Perros; in valleys and by waterways. Christine...why did you lie to me? Why didn't you just tell me the truth? Why must you keep protecting him, even now? Can you not clear your conscious?"

Christine looked at him angrily, fury welling in her. He had known from the time he found her in the blue house that all the things she said were false. He always knew. "You want to know the truth? Erik gave his life up for me! The farmer came up behind me and put a dagger to my throat." She stopped to lift her chin, revealing a fading yet still sore red line, crusted over with scabs and dried blood that had oozed from her pores there. "The man was going to kill me if Erik did not go with him. He did, but managed to escape. Whether the farmer was in an accident or not, I do not know. Erik refused to go into much detail on how he was back. Really, I did not care. The sword he took to protect me, to make sure insane people like the farmer wouldnt hurt me. You know what? Erik understood that farmer! Couldn't blame him for what he did! He is capable of compassion, Raoul. He took care of me out there. If caring for me makes him guilty, then perhaps he is! But no matter what you say, he does not deserve the punishment he is going to receive today. It's not fair. There is no execution taking place today - it's a murder! A murder from injustice and prejudice - and you're apart of it!" She yelled angrily, then pushed open the large doors and ran back inside. A few caring people called her name to make sure she was alright, but instead of answering, she ran behind stage, away from all the people so she might be able to grab hold of her senses and take her emotions under control.

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Christine was balled in a corner, tears falling upon her raised knees as she stared at the ring on her finger. She now realized what a fool she had been. Why did everyone expect her to be able to go through with this? She couldn't! She'd surely fail. She would bring no justice to Erik, and she'd be the one to ruin the opera this time.

She listened to the light footfalls of the ballet rats, and the singing of the chorus. She despized all those people out there; jealous that they could live their carefree lives while she ached in torment and pain. Never had she been a normal young lady; but now she didn't even fit in here at the opera. She seemed to belong to another world; though no one else belonged there. It was with this thought that she realized all that Erik had gone through in his life; never to fit in, only to lurk in shadows of jealousy. At least he had a place to escape to. She had no where that anyone would allow her to slip off to. She could hardly sit there in peace. She looked up as the tears spilled down her throat. Suddenly, she had an idea. Making sure that she was not needed, and that the time alone that she so desperately needed right now was freed, she ran up the iron spiral stairs until she was as high as the stage. Then, ever so carefully, she started to walk from the swinging rafters which hung from even higher. She stopped at one, looking down upon a red X near the end. It was where Joseph Bouquet had died; the crewmen had marked it in honor. Depending on how you stood, it could look like a cross, or an X. Christine liked the thought of it resembling an X today much better than a cross. A shiver ran down her spine at the thought, and she carefully leapt over it and onto the next long slap of hanging wood. This brought her to the middle of the stage. Satisfied, she sat down, letting her legs dangle below. She rested her chin on her folded arms, which were placed on top of the rope. Here, she allowed her tears to fall freely as she listened to the managers exiting the theater. It was three o'clock - time to start opening the doors to the audience. She took out the pocket watch that the man playing Don Juan had loaned her. She gently swung back and forth as she watched the seconds slip quickly by. Strange, how little each second meant to everyone around her. Yet, with each tick, Erik's life got drastically shorter.

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Alright, the next chapter is the finale - let's hear it!