Dear readers,
Your authoress is sorry to announce that due to the overload on letters and mails, applications for the "We hate Céline, she's such a bitch" fanclub have been put to a screeching halt for now! P

Let her leave with her fop if she wants to, back in Venice another Alighieri kid will start playing a more important role in our story from now on! Yes, ok, I will start taking applications for the "We love Luca, he's so hot" fanclub as of today...But only if you leave me enough reviews!

Enjoy! -x- Lotte.

The members of the committee looked somewhat annoyed as a young man entered their office, apparently all by himself.

"Yes?"

Luca sighed and subconsciously wiped his sweaty palms along the sides of his dark trousers before stepping forward.

"Luca Alighieri, signori. I am here on behalf of my father to present you with his…our latest drawings. They are the technical designs for the left wing of the Academy and I was under the impression you needed them quite urgently?"

One of the older gentlemen in front of him raised a suspicious brow. "Oh yes, the Maestro's son, are you not? And you father is unable to attend today, is he?"

Luca nodded. "I am sorry to say his…illness will not allow him to leave the palazzo at present. I do believe however my knowledge of the project is sufficient to assist you in any way possible." He raised his chin proudly; trying to sound calm and confident, hoping the board members would accept his explanation for his father's absence.

Truth was no one had seen or heard from Erik since that dreadful night now almost a week ago. He had stubbornly secluded himself to his chambers, avoiding all contact with the outside world. Even Christine could no longer reach him and Luca had found his mother surprisingly calm under the fact, if not deeply hurt.

One night, as Giulia was already sleeping and Matteo was up in his room, drowning out his grief with his music, Aurora and Luca had gently pried at their mother to tell them her story. So many new facts had been presented to them, and their father's behavior was so as they had never witnessed before. Surely there must be some form of explanation to be had! After a while she had given in, slowly relating the secrets her heart had harbored for so many years. Secrets, she had explained, she had hoped never to need bother her children with. Their father's childhood, their early acquaintance at the Paris Opera, the dreadful battle for her affections that had initially been won by the Vicomte de Chagny, Céline's biological father. Their reunion, their wonderful new life together…until Céline had decided for some unknown reason to destroy their safe world and allow the Opera Ghost to return in full splendour.

"But surely maman…there has to be a way…a way to make papa wake from this nightmare! He must know Céline would never speak those words from her heart, unless that useless excuse for a man had put her up to such a thing!" Aurora's plea had only made her smile wearily.

"I suppose he does know…but she spoke them none the less. As her mother did so many years ago, inspired by another young suitor. Can you not see dearest? The one and only thing your dear father has ever feared in his life, is betrayal. A loved one turning from him. Not deeming him good enough for their company.

And he responded to it the only way he has ever known how, by rebuilding the wall around his heart to ensure it won't be broken again. And nothing you or I will say or do can break it down again. Only time will tell if he will ever return to us again as the kind and caring man we know and love…"

And that was what they were doing now, waiting for signs of improvement. They seemed to be there, albeit very infrequently. Every now and then a note would come, requesting food or drink which Christine took as a positive sign as she knew that was usually the first thing he would deny himself.

Once Matteo awoke in the morning to find a finished score of a new song lying on his desk, with a stoic note in his father's elegant hand requesting that he would study it. It was a beautiful haunting melody and from the note the boy received a day later, giving him credit for grasping the difficult piece so quickly, all gathered that Erik was still watching their every move from hiding.

Last night, Aurora had found her mother sitting in front of her father's door, softly whispering against the dark wood, begging him to see reason and return to her, comfort her. Oh, how she needed him! But in the morning she had found only a lovely scenting red rose by her side, adorned with his signature black silk ribbon, and a sad note attached to it. It contained only a few words:

I cannot. Please forgive me.

And so Luca had set out by himself, gathering their drawings from the library to visit the Law Faculty alone. Even though he had not received any instructions from his father he felt this was the right thing to do. In his grief he might have simply forgotten the date of their appointment and he knew his father would suffer even more should their sacred works go unsupervised.

"These look remarkably well, my boy. Just as we had envisioned and blending very well with the existing parts so far. We can safely grant you permission to execute. Please convey our approval to the Maestro, if you will, and wish him a speedy recovery."

And that was all. With a polite curtsy Luca gathered up the drawings once more to continue his journey to the construction site. With a new found self-assurance, he instructed the workmen before rushing home, reporting back to his father the only way he knew how at this point, by letter:

Our drawings were approved.
Construction of the left wing will start at dawn tomorrow.
Your son, L.A.

A reply came almost instant, as he returned to his room after dinner to retire for the night:

You have done well. I am proud of you.
Your father, E.A.

It was then the boy realised there might be a way to lure his father from his shell…