Author's Note: Sorry this has taken so long. I went to Chicago for a bit and didn't bring my computer. This chapter is kind of short, but I think (hope) you guys will like it. And don't forget to review, please!

Acquaintance

Climbing into the bed that she would be sharing with Meg for that evening, Christine had her first doubts about what tonight held for her. While Meg was chattering on about this and that, she was silently arguing with herself.

'What is Meg wakes up when I'm leaving? I can just say that I'm heading to the bathroom. And if she wakes while I'm out? She'll flip out! Who knows who she'll call? I'd get into so much trouble, not just for disobeying the docent, but also for breaking curfew. But I want to know, I want to see!' Her face was troubled for a bit, butshe triednot to let it show. Soon,she had an epiphany.Christine gave asmall cry of excitement, earning a look fromMeg.

"I know! I couldn't believe they were havinga sale either!"

Christine rolled her eyes, smiled at Meg,and gave a non-committal grunt, then turned back to her revelation.

'I got it. If I hear anything unusual, I'll go out. If not, then I'll resign myself to having hallucinations.'

Staying awake was a bit harder than Christine thought. She and Meg talked until about one and it was all she could do to stayconscious in her warm, comfortable bed. Finally, at about 3 a.m., Christine heard the first signs of life outside her room. Faint piano music could be heard from somewhere inside the château. This was the sign Christine was waiting for. She slipped out of the bed with as little movement as possible. Meg shifted in her sleep a little, but was otherwise still. Christine pulled on her light blue silk robe and slipped on her flip-flops. She grabbed the key and her pocket flashlight and was out the door within seconds.

She followed the music down the stairs and past all the rooms that were on the tour. She was venturing into the unknown part of the château.Christine had no idea where she was going and had a slim chance of successfully finding her way back.

Christine's small flashlight did nothing to alleviate the darkness around her. On the contrary, it made her journey terrifying. Her adrenaline was racing. Every little creak was the footfall of an axe-murderer, every long shadow cast by her flashlight was death's specter to take her away.

The music did nothing to quell her fears either. The piece being played was dark and emotional, making her feel isolated and vulnerable. It entered her ears and nestled in her heart, almost driving her to uncontrollable sobbing. She felt completely hopeless.

'I hope this isn't what the composer is feeling,' she thought. 'He must be absolutely miserable.' She blinked back a few tears and carried onward.

The volume reached its highest level as Christine approached a pair of solid wood doors. The piece too had reached its crescendo-each note was packed with more sorrow than the one before it. She leaned up against the wall and let the music roll over her for a few more minutes. It took her away and transported her to a different reality. The song ended in a few minutes, but her journey did not.

Taking a breath, Christine opened the doors and marveled at what she saw. She first turned off the flashlight. The light of the full moon coming through the grand picture windows illuminated the important objects in the room-the most important of which was a grand piano. She slowly walked to the piano, noticing nothing else, not even the shadow to her left.

She ran her hand about an inch over the sleek black top and the keys, deciding not to touch it.

"To touch it would to be a sacrilege," she said quietly.

To her surprise, the stand was free of sheet music. Whoever had been playing had been composing. She was thoroughly impressed.

She took her eyes off the piano and surveyed the room for the first time. The high ceiling was acoustically perfect and various settees and chairs were scattered about the room, presumably at the points where the music could be appreciated fully. A balcony circled the majority of the room scattered with more chairs and settees.

Glancing once more at the instrument before her, she noted something she had not before: a fireplace was just a few feet from the piano. But something about this fireplace was different. She walked towards it and discovered its secret: it was open. Christine ran her hand over the opening and peered inside, wishing she had not put her flashlight down. Despite the ominous feeling that was now coursing through her veins, she decided to go one step further. She decided to go in to the fireplace.

Christine was on the threshold of the hidden door and was about to cross when she heard something she was not expecting at all. From directly behind her, a voice said, "What are you doing here?"