"Monsieur?" Andre Calvin interrupted Erik's thoughts as he watched Jaimie and John,

"Yes?" he said, turning to face him,

"We need some more crates,"

"There may be some in the cellar, let me check for you," Erik responded, and he looked at Nadir, "This will only take me a second, you can go back to the room if you like,"

Nadir nodded and turned away, heading back to the music room. Erik took the stairs downward, realizing he had not been to the cellar in some time. As he searched for an extra crated, he saw something which caught his attention; a door was now slightly open which he had not noticed before

Slowly, Erik crept toward the door, feeling as though something outside of him was urging him to continue. Erik pulled the door the rest of the way open and looked inside.

There was a large wooden chest, looking quite old and dilapidated. Erik stared at it; bending down, he lifted the warped lid and peered inside. Erik looked down with interest, and he pulled the chest out into the main room of the cellar to see it better.

Inside there were hundreds of little things, statuettes and mementoes, there were clippings from flyers and pamphlets, and there were drawings, and letters; stacks and stacks of letters.

As he inspected his finds, he realized what he was looking at; someone's life in a box. He unfolded one piece of paper and he had to sit down on the floor he was so stunned. There she was, staring back at him; the ghost in the music room. Erik was sure he was looking at a drawing of her. It was a simple but skilful sketch, and it showed her graceful form and her long, dark hair.

He was so involved with his realization that he did not hear Andre Calvin calling his name until he was on the steps of the cellar. Quickly Erik stuffed the paper back into the chest and pushed it back into the room where he had found it.

Straightening up he turned to face Calvin, "I think there are some crates over here…" Erik said, and he led Calvin away from the room with the chest.

The rest of the day all Erik could think about was the chest; he was finally going to get some answers as to who was in the music room. The day finally ended; Jaimie Davis was forced to abandon John; she had spent the whole day at the estate, using any chance she could to talk to him.

The sun sank and all the workers fell asleep in the living room. Erik and his friend the Persian were alone in the music room. Erik did not think the ghost would show herself with Nadir there, but he was anxious to get down to the cellar and bring up the chest.

He waited until he thought it was likely that the men had fallen asleep, then he shook the Persian rudely awake,

"Get up," Erik whispered,

"Why?" Nadir murmured sleepily,

"I need you to help me with something," Erik said quietly,

"What?" the Persian asked suspiciously, he did not altogether trust his friend sometimes,

"I just want you to help me bring something up from the cellar," Erik said exasperatedly,

"Now?" Nadir asked in an irritated tone, "Why not wait until morning when someone in better physical condition can help you?"

"Just come with me," Erik moved to the door of the room and left,

The Persian sat thinking for a moment, and then reasoning that he had done stranger things when it came to this particular friend, and he might as well go.

The trip down to the cellar in the dark was a dangerous one for the Persian; he did not have his friend's skill for sight in the dark. He stumbled noisily down the cellar stairs and almost fell over until he felt a firm hand grabbed him and steadied him,

"You falling down the stairs and dying is not part of what I planned, so please refrain from doing it," Erik muttered angrily at his friend; all he was asking was that they go down to the cellar, bring up a chest and then be done with it.

In the dark Erik found the chest and dragged it out into the room. Erik motioned for Nadir to pick up the other end of the chest; which he did with relative difficulty. Nadir was not a young man and not quite in the same league physically as his friend.

They carried the chest, which was quite large, up the stairs; Erik walking backwards and leading his friend. Everything went well until they reached the doorway and Erik slammed his shoulder blade into the frame. Cursing silently he stopped for a moment,

"What happened?" Nadir whispered,

"I ran into the doorframe," Erik whispered back harshly,

"Deft," Nadir said, unable to hide the amusement in his voice,

"Come on," Erik grumbled, beginning to walk again,

They made it back to the music room without further incident. As Erik had suspected, there was no light and no music coming from the room as they entered. Setting down the chest with a sigh of relief Nadir stared at his friend,

"What is this all about?" He asked exasperatedly,

"I'll show you," Erik said, and he lit a candle and set it beside the chest. Opening the chest Erik found the sketch he had been looking at earlier and showed it to his friend,

"This is her; this is the ghost in the room,"

Nadir stared at his friend and then down at the sketch, moving it into the light for a better look. He stared at the remarkable woman and the sketch and heaved a mental sigh; his friend was obsessed again, with another unattainable woman, or maybe this was just another Christine. The woman looked almost like her; she had dark hair and large dark eyes.

"You don't believe me, do you?" Erik said, watching his friend,

"Erik, you tell me there is a ghost in the room and then you show me this drawing, what would you think in my situation?"

"I think I would trust my friend," Erik said, and the moment he said it he felt he had to take it back. He had never given Nadir any reason to trust him, he had every right to suspect the worst from him, "I swear to you, she is real, and that is her," he said sincerely,

Nadir looked at his friend, it was hard to see his face; it was always hard to see his face due to the half which was covered by the white mask, and in this particular situation there was relatively little lighting, but Nadir was getting a strange feeling he had never gotten from his friend before; he seemed sincere, and not completely mad.

"So what do you propose we do about this chest?" Nadir asked,

"Look through it, I suppose," Erik said, and he took the sketch back from Nadir; flipping it over for the first time he noticed there was a bit of very light writing in pencil; Erik looked closely and read, "My darling Annabelle,"

"Her name was Annabelle?"

"I suppose," Erik murmured, entranced,

Suddenly the room seemed to grow lighter, and the one small candle flared brighter, as it had done the first time Erik had sat in the room at night. Only this time it did not go out. Erik was used to the strange feeling inside the room, but his friend was not and he showed his reaction plainly.

"What on earth was that?" Nadir looked around the room, searing from the source of his discomfort,

"There are more things in heaven and earth, Nadir," Erik responded to his friend's nervousness with a slight smile,

Looking down at the memorabilia in the box, Erik picked up several of the pamphlets and inspected them; he quickly realized they were all programs form varying ballets and operas. Nadir inspected them as well,

"Seems as though she was a regular theater rat," he said, wondering how on earth his friend had found what was most likely the only estate in the French country side haunted by a former theater lover. Nadir had never really believed in fate, but this made him think twice…

"She did not just go to the shows Nadir," Erik said suddenly, pointing to a list of names inside of one of the programs, "She was on stage," and he pointed to a name, Annabelle Beaux,

He left Nadir to stare at the program and stooped to pick up the letters. They were tied together with a string and he carefully picked the knot apart and took up the first letter. It seemed that as he unfolded the first piece of paper, the room grew brighter again.

The writing was still fairly legible and Erik read aloud to his friend,

Dearest Annabelle,

I cannot believe that a woman with your grace and beauty has yet noticed the meager and undeserving man that I am but I still must speak for fear that if I do not my own heart will burst. I am the man who plays the piano in your dance class; and watching you dance is like watching one of God's own angel's play on earth. I dare say I have fallen in love with you, and though I know a woman of your position needs nothing to do with a man like me I hope with every part of my whole heart you have taken you will agree to meet me anyway; after your class at the pond around the corner, I will wait there for you forever,

Love Always Everett

"Sound's like a true hopeless romantic," Nadir said,

"He does," Erik glanced at the rest of the letters, "Should we see if she met him?"

The whole rest of the nigh was devoted to the love story between Everett and Annabelle. All the letters were ones he had written to her;

Dearest Love Annabelle,

I love you more than words can say and it kills me every time we have to part. The greatest pleasure I have in my life is watching you dance, and being near to you.

My Only Love Annabelle,

The very sound of your voice makes my heart break for longing for you. My heart has no reason to beat but for you,

The letters went on and on like this, he professing his deep and undying love for her with every word. The two friends spent the whole night reading each letter. Nadir knew he was being caught up, but he could not help it; something about the room, and about his friend's enthusiasm, and the nature of the story they were uncovering made it impossible not to care.

The sun was beginning to rise again when they reached the last letter,

My Love Annabelle,

I cannot live with out you by my side any longer. I know your parents do not like me because I am poor, but they will understand in time. Come away with me Annabelle, and we will start a new life together.

"So what the hell happened?" Nadir asked angrily, searching the chest for another letter,

"I don't know; there is nothing more," Erik said, re reading the last letter again in his head. He wondered what it would be like, to have someone care about you so much they were willing to give up everything for you. He had asked that of others, but never once had he felt his love returned. But did she go? Did she leave with him? There had to be some way of finding out,

"You realize we spent the whole night on this?" Nadir said, and Erik nodded, but he did not much care; he was used to not sleeping,

"Go to sleep Nadir," Erik said as he put the letters back into the chest, and then left the room to go and tend to the work in the house