MJ MOD: Oh dear! I never can write Erik/Other Woman things…I don't think that would have worked out too nicely for he and Adelaide. Haaaa, just you wait to see what I have in store for Raoul's family. Poor things, really.

Jbwriter: your reviews always inspire me to update…I do adore them. Thank you again!

Love to my darling reviewers – and to those (if you exist) who read but do not review. I know how it is…sometimes I read things and honestly have nothing to say. However, even if they are the most pointless things ever, I usually try to say something. ; )

My favorite chapter I have written of this entire thing (it's a different type of favorite…I always like fluffy Raoul scenes, haha!) is the following one…so, I hope you guys like it as much as I liked writing it when the time comes. So, review, review, review, and it will be up shortly!

Adelaide's POV

Nadir and I spoke for hours shortly after Erik slipped into what appeared to be a coma after having a seizure. I told him of my choice, and Nadir confirmed his "passing" would be in a matter of hours, not days.

I truly was grateful to this man for taking care of everything I did not have the steady mind to do.

I paced Erik's study, and Erik's library. My eyes fell to the desk, and the little composition book that had caused such a fight between us. Under the silent eye of Nadir, I picked it up, my curiosity sparked by what had been mentioned as…a purpose?

I thumbed through it quickly, like a fan. Every page was filled, front and back. The front seemed like a log, and at more careful study, to my fascination, it was exactly that. A log of Christine's lessons, her improvements and what needed to be worked on at the next ones. Going on, it was accounts of her triumphs. Then nothing. Then in a more steady, yet more twisted hand was a series of lyrics, in all different languages, followed by scribble scores. The final page, exactly calculated to end correctly, was his plan to go to find her upon her husband's leave of the country. My God, Erik had planned it perfectly.

This had to reveal why he had not relinquished me after he realized I was not Christine. There had to be a deeper reason besides the obvious, I knew this now. Originally, I had figured it would have hidden a crime if he had killed me…but, he did not. I searched for a purpose, was there a note? I had always believed in my mind, somewhere that ransom was an alternative, but, I sincerely doubted that now as money held not a value for him. There was nothing. Nothing but jealousy, rage, and madness.

Nadir came up behind me, and began an explanation, softly. "It was to be given to her when she returned to bury Erik, however, she saw the article on L'Epoque and did not come. That was his first attempt to draw her back to him" I listened to Nadir with an open mouth as he continued. "He eventually continued, always writing to her, everything was an association with Christine." He paused, and looked at me sincerely.

"Take the book to her."

I looked at him incredulously, and realized everything at once.

Erik did not believe in a maker, an afterlife, or angels. Christine had been enraptured by just that. The book was for her afterlife, and perhaps…his? Their afterlife? The complexities of Erik's thought process was too convoluted to try to venture through any further.

"Good Lord," I murmured, "was it love, or was it obsession?" I thumbed through the book once more.

"Both, Madame," the Persian man said, solemnly. "Both most passionately."

Nadir Kahn recounted to me the life of Erik that had only been told to him. Not even repeated to Christine. By the end of the hour long narration, my head that once ached now throbbed from tears shed throughout.

"I never knew," I sniffled, "I never r-re-realized!"

Nadir nodded, and went in to check on Erik.

I was left alone to think further on his life. I wished to God Nadir had not told me, and yet, was put to rest, in a sense, to hear it. It made it easier for me to forgive him of…everything. His life excused his madness, nearly. If I had heard of his story a week earlier, I believe I would have drowned myself in the lake in fear of the Angel of Doom, the murderous opera ghost, and the demon child he had always been.

Yet, I knew his story now. Now two on this Earth knew the sufferings of one. I would remember his story, in perfect detail, until my dying day, I promised myself that.

Nadir returned after a time, and recommended that we both go and keep a final vigil.