I do not have time to do my shoutouts, so to all of my recent followers, favorites, and reviewers: THANK YOU SO MUCH! Sorry guys, I have a boatload of finals to study for, but I had a bit of free time, so I thought I would give you what I have so far. So, here it is. Enjoy!

Chapter 43

Two weeks later, no leads had been formed by the authorities as to who murdered Buquet. The theories made up by the cast and crew of the opera house, though, had begun to get too ridiculous. They stretched anywhere from suicide to The Phantom of the Opera, who apparently had a serious grudge against the stagehand.

If only they knew the truth…if only I knew the truth of what really happened…

But, since I had no leads to go on, just like the gendarmes, I couldn't do anything but stew over the murder.

Plus, it didn't really help that attendance at the Populaire was at an all-time low. It could have been for a number of reasons, including the murder and the fact that I hadn't been putting on any performances. I don't mean to sound conceited, but it could have been. I don't know the minds of 19th century Parisians.

But something had to be done, and quick. Andre and Firmin were pushing me to figure something out, even though I thought it was supposed to be THEIR jobs. I would want to help figure something out anyways, but their pressuring was not helping at all. You know how you want to do something productive, like clean the house, but when your mother tells you to, you don't want to do it suddenly? Yeah, that's where I was.

I was with Erik down in the lair one night, trying to come up with something clever. Instead of being clever, though, I got a flirty Erik trying to distract me, which, to be honest, did nothing for my creativeness…

"Erik, I cannot concentrate on this if you keep on doing that…"

At that moment, he had his arms wrapped around me from behind, his lips attached to my neck. I know, I know, very "un-Erik like". But, then again, this wasn't the Erik we are all familiar with. Leroux and Webber have nothing on my Erik…

Erik pulled back enough to say, "But you're supposed to be relaxing. You've had a taxing week."

"Supposed to be relaxing? By whose orders?"

"My orders." He purred.

"…and Antoinette's?"

He sighed heavily. "Yes, and Antoinette's."

I reluctantly pushed myself away from him. "Well, as nice as it was, I still have to figure a few things out. How do I get attendance back up? Who killed Buquet? Why of God's green earth is there a car parked on my sandwich? And before you ask, don't please. We'll be here forever if I try to explain that one. Instead, though, can you please help me try to figure everything out?"

His official answer was no.

Two weeks later and I was still struggling. Nothing was coming to me at all. Usually, I have the most creative ideas, but now…

I explained my concerns to Antoinette. Lately we had gotten to be closer to each other. She was quickly becoming a motherly figure to me and that was exactly what I needed.

"What if you do another performance?" She asked me. "Surely that would help."

I shook my head. "I don't know. I'm running out of things to do. There's not much more from my time that I can do that is really…appropriate."

Antoinette sighed. "I am very disappointed in your generation, Mandy. Do they not have anything that is respectable?"

"Not really. Then again, standards change with each generation. I'm more on the conservative side of things. I don't get much of the reason behind why the other people my age do what they do. They degrade each other – and themselves. They may not see it that way, but they are. There's not much respectability left in the world…"

"Well, I wouldn't blame you if you didn't want to go back." She huffed.

I hesitated. Should I tell her about what happened when I fainted the other night? What would she think? I was afraid of how she would react, though I didn't exactly know why.

Antoinette seen my hesitation. "Mandy, is there something wrong?"

Well, better face the music… "No, not at all. It's just that…well…when I fainted the other night, I went back. To my time."

Silence…then, "What?! How?! Why didn't you tell me?!"

I was shocked. "I don't know. I just woke up in a hospital room in my time then passed out again. But not before I seen…"

She began to get exasperated. "When you seen what, exactly?"

"Well…it's hard to explain…"

"I have time." Antoinette said with a stern face. "You are not going to lead me on as such and then just stop there."

I wasn't planning on doing that, but I didn't say so. "Well, when I passed out, I woke up in a hospital bed in my time-"

"We've went over this part."

"Oh, yeah. Anyways, I heard a beep of a heart monitor-"

"A what?"

I sighed. "You're as bad as Erik. A heart monitor is-"

"Would you mind to repeat that first statement, mademoiselle?"

"No, ma'am! A heart monitor is a gadget that is hooked up to a person to keep track of their heartbeat. Okay, that out of the way, I seen my surroundings and realized 'I'm in a hospital'. The heart monitor spiked and –"

"What do you mean by 'spiked'?

"Madame Giry!"

She stood up and towered over me. "You will not talk back to me like that!"

Sheesh, now I know why the ballet rats are so terrified of her…she's like my mother! "I apologize."

Once she figured that she was pleased with my withdrawal, she nodded and sat back down. "Please continue."

I took a breath. "Okay, my heart rate went up, which sent a signal to the heart monitor. In response, the monitor made a noise. That alerted…um…"

Her eyebrow arched. "Yes?"

"Um…Jackson."

"Oh, and who is this Jackson?"

Here comes the fun part… "Jackson was my co-star in the show I was performing when I came here."

She seemed to brush it off. "Well, if he was just a co-star, then I don't see what your fuss is about."

"Oh, just let me finish. I never told you about the show we were performing, did I?" She shook her head. "Well…it was based off of the story of…you-know-who…

Antoinette looked at me, confused. "No, I am afraid I do not know. Who was it about?"

"Antoinette, it was about Erik…and Christine…and Raoul, and you, and Meg, and Buquet, and everyone here!"

A confused look. "What?"

I gave a sigh, and she laughed. "I'm sorry, my dear. That was mean of me. I know about the story. Christine told me."

"Well, I guess she has a hard time with keeping any secret…"

"Now, don't be too tough on her," Antoinette gently chided. "You know what kind of young lady she is. She had to tell somebody before she couldn't keep it in anymore."

"Oh, yeah, so I guess she told you and Raoul everything."

She stiffened. "I was unaware that she had told the Vicomte…"

"Yeah, well, he most likely now knows that I'm from you-know where. But anyways, we're getting off subject here." Crap, why did I just say that..?

"Ah, yes, you are completely right. Now, who is Jackson again?"

I shrugged. "He was, um my co-star. He played…he played Erik…"

"..oh? Were you two…close?"

I knew what she was insinuating. I didn't like it. "The only times I seen him were in rehearsals and the show. We were friends, but our friendship never left the stage. Besides, when I say that no one in my time can compare to Erik, I mean it. I don't want anyone but Erik."

The door flew open and a body hit the floor with a loud thud. "Who's Erik?"