Disclaimer: I do not own "The Phantom of the Opera" nor its characters, though some of them are of my own creation, as well as this story plot. Enjoy!

A/N: This chapter was very hard for me to write. There was so much I wanted to say, but I didn't want it to feel as though I was dragging it out. The ending of the chapter was not what I had first planned. But as I continued to write, I felt that this would work better than the original. WARNING: cliffhanger, so don't hate me. But it's so good.


Chapter Three

Unexpected phone call

"Kayla de Gracia, straighten your back! Do not allow your knees to bend!" Madame Tabitha Quill slammed her instructors cane against the foot railing, only inches from where Kayla's right ankle was supported on.

"Madame Quill, I'm trying my best. I've been working so hard lately and am just so tired. In the past two days I've only had about eight hours sleep total." Kayla wiped the sweat from her brow with the back of her left hand; it trembled faintly. A strand of her raven hair fell loose from its tight ponytail to curve around her pale, delicate face.

Madame Quill lowered her cane to her side, staring thoughtfully at the young woman. She hadn't noticed just how exhausted the poor woman looked until now. The old dance mistress may have seemed like a cold, stern woman, but on the inside she was caring and loving towards her students. Especially Kayla, since she had been friends with her mother before Karen died. Tabitha was like a mother hen when it came to her flock of pupils, always ready to protect them and make sure their well.

Tabitha was a woman of high standards and never expected anything less than what she knew instinctively what one of her girls were capable of. In Kayla's case, she was her top student of the corps de ballet in the Opera Garnier de Paris.

But today poor Kayla was lacking in alertness and her posture was slouched, and you could practically see her tiredness beating down on her much too thin, petite body.

When she wasn't dancing at the Opera, she worked at the Galeries Lafayette on Boulevard Haussmann, which specialized in high fashion, designer household, perfumes, and had a food hall. She worked Monday thru Friday, nine-thirty in the morning to six-thirty. Then she would practice at the Opera from seven o'clock to ten.

By the time she would get home, she was exhausted, but her day was far from over. Her father, Michael de Gracia, only a month ago had a heart attack that left him incapable of working as a carpenter at the Opera House or caring for himself. His left arm was useless, and the rest of his body was so weak that he could barely stand or walk for any length of time. Kayla would spend the remainder of her day with her father.

Michael's job had been their main source of income, but now only Kayla's job as a runway makeup artist paid the bills, medicine, and fed them. In Kayla's time at home she would care for the two of them and the housework. The past month was finally taking its toll on her.

Madame Quill knew of the hectic life the young woman lived and she understood hoe overly tired she must be. Ever since Karen's death, Tabitha had helped where she was needed; Karen and her had once been like sisters. Now, in these hard times, she worried for Kayla and her father's health.

Kayla, a woman who was usually bright and happy, now seemed solemn and gray. The light that once shone from her smiling face was gone, only a shadow of a smile would find its way to her red lips from time to time.

At the moment, her over-exerted body trembled slightly and Madame Quill didn't fail to notice. Her heart went out to Kayla and her fading father. Deep down, she knew that Michael would not be around much longer, the doctor's had already done all they could.

"It's alright, Kayla, I'm not expecting anymore from you today. You may go home and rest. Lord knows you need it. It's Friday, and you don't have work tomorrow, so how about you spend Saturday resting as well."

Kayla stood in front of Tabitha and desperately wanted to be held; she missed her mother terribly. But she knew better than to do so with the rest of the girls watching. Tabitha prided herself on being the stern woman that she was, and to show too much affection would loose some of the hard respect that Tabitha demanded. It was a complicated thing.

Tiffany, Tabitha's daughter, came up to stand with them. "Kayla, I asked mama and she said it was alright if I come over tonight. If you want I'll bring over some groceries so I can cook dinner for you and your father."

Kayla nodded. "Sounds good to me, but make sure you buy something relatively healthy. I've been making dinners lately that are good for dad, he can't take anything fatty or with a lot of cholesterol."

"Don't worry; I know just what you mean. I've been forcing my dad to eat better as well. He's so stubborn though. I'll be at your house around eight o'clock."

"Okay, I'll see you then. Thanks again Madame Quill, I promise to practice a few steps in the basement tomorrow so…"

"Nonsense, I said I want you to rest, so you will do as I say. Take the day off; you need to take better care of yourself. I know it's been hard with your father and all, but you can't let your own health become a problem."

"I understand; I will try to remember. I better get going then." She curtsied and left to the changing rooms. She hurried out of her ballet outfit and slippers, and into her regular street clothes, a red polo t-shirt, black jeans, and black Nikes with a black swoosh, and white jogging socks. Her black trench coat was lying across the bench beside her as she slipped in her shoes and stuffed her other clothes in her duffle bag.

She checked her cell phone for any messages before she walked out of the girl's changing room. A mechanical voice told her that she had two voicemails; one from her boyfriend, Jacob, and the other from her father.

"Hey, Kayla, it's me Jacob. I… uh… Listen, I know that this is bad timing but I'm going away this weekend with a few of the guys from the University… I…" A young woman's voice could be heard from in the background. "Jacob, hurry up and just tell her, everyone else is ready to go." Jacob coughed, his voice came back on a little hesitantly, and then he said the words so fast that Kayla wasn't sure she heard him right. "I don't think our relationship is working out, we never see each other anymore. You're always busy and… Dammit! I'm sorry, Kayla, but I just can't be with you. I am sorry, I… I have to go. Bye, Kayla."

Kayla sat stunned, looking at her phone in disbelief; the buzz of the dial tone echoing in the empty room. Tears threatened to spill, but her sudden anger stole over any other emotion. "That ass!"

"Who's an ass?" Tiffany walked through the doorway, pausing a second to look over Kayla's flushed face. "What's up?"

"Jacob, that's who! He broke up with me, didn't even have the decency to tell me in person. He just left a voice message on my cell. That ass!"

"He did what? Did he say why? I'll kick his face in!" Tiffany sat down beside her, throwing an arm around Kayla's shoulders.

"Here listen." Kayla replayed the message and gave it to Tiffany. She watched her friend's eyebrows furrow and her cheeks flare red in anger.

"What a freaking jerk! And that girl's voice, that was Tracy; the wench who was always trying to steal Jacob away from you in high school. I bet she had something to do with this. I'll strangle them both."

"Why would he do this to me? He knows that dad is sick, and how I have to work to keep up with the bills, and how important dancing here at the Opera is to me, and taking care of dad…" The tears spilled down her cheeks and a sob escaped her throat.

Tiffany pulled Kayla in for a tighter hug, taking deep breaths herself to calm down. "He just like any other twenty-six year old guy. They don't think ahead before they say something incredibly stupid. Don't worry, he'll regret this. You're the best chick I know, it's his own loss." She squeezed Kayla tighter, afraid to let her go or else she would start crying herself.

Kayla pulled away first and took a deep, shuddering breath. "Ok. It's ok, I can get past this. I have bigger things to worry about than some stupid boy. Dad left me a message, I'm going to check it then go home."

She punched in the buttons and put the phone to her ear. Her father's hushed, yet still handsome voice came over the line.

"Kayla, honey, Sandra just left the house and said that she was quitting. I pleaded with her to at least stay until you got home. Apparently someone else offered her a job that pays a hell of a lot better than we do. When you get this message, please hurry home, I… I hate to make you worry, but I don't feel… ok. My chest is tight, like I might…" He paused for a whole minute. Kayla's heart jumped in her throat, her face paled instantly. "Please, Kayla, baby, come home. Oh, GOD!" She could hear his gasp on the other end, and then a pain-filled grunt, something that sounded like glass breaking and a loud thud, then silence.

Kayla screamed before she could even think; a wordless cry. The time on the phone said that the message was sent a little over two hours ago. She bolted up, grabbed her coat, shoving her cell in the pocket. Tiffany stood up with her.

"What is it, Kayla? For goodness sake tell me!" She ran after her, but Kayla was too fast, as though there was something chasing her and her life depended on it. They ran past Madame Quill, who had to jump out of their way or get plowed over.

Tabitha called out to them, but the look on Kayla's face was enough; something had happened and it wasn't good in the slightest. She ran after them.

Everything around Kayla faded, as though she were in a hazy tunnel; all she could see was straight in front of her, a clear path leading her to her father. She burst out of the front doors of the Opera House and ran down the sidewalk like a madwoman. The streets were cluttered with cars and taxis. She zigzagged through the traffic with one thought in her mind. I have to get to him!

Her house was only ten blocks from the Opera, and she made it home in record time. Fumbling with her house key, she unlocked the front door and pushed it open, nearly smashing the doorjamb through the wall.

She halted just inside the entrance. Her heart stopped, the blood frozen in her veins. She was suddenly lightheaded and fell to her knees. Her eyes cleared and then fixed on the still figure sprawled on the floor in the hallway by the desk where the phone never made it back to its cradle.

She swallowed another scream, slowly crawling towards the man lying there. Her breath was coming too quickly and ragged, she was on the verge of hyperventilating. Tears burned as they trailed down her face and made wet plopping sounds on the hardwood floor.

"D…dad? Oh, God, please, no." She whispered so softly she didn't even hear the words. She was so beyond shock that she didn't even hear the footsteps behind her or the sharp intake's of breath.

"Daddy?" She was finally beside him. He didn't move… much. There was the barest of movement as he inhaled and a strange wheezing sound as he exhaled. Kayla touched his shoulder, and then grasped it to roll him over on his back. His face was ashen, a sheen of sweat covering all parts of exposed skin. Kayla wasn't sure what to do. She did all that came to mind.

Kayla laid her head down on his chest. There was the faintest trace of his heart thudding, but it was too slow, too spaced apart between beats. But he was still alive. A sound caught between a shout and a sob left her lips as she pulled her father's large, limp body into her arms.


A/N: I am sorry if this chapter seemed unfair and sad. But it plays a major part in the events that unfold within the story. Please R & R!