"Oh, yes! Yes, yes, right there!"

Loud sighs of pleasure were heard inside the chamber of the woman of the house. Young maids flocked the entrance of the room as they try to eavesdrop on whatever is happening behind the closed doors, whispering to each other all the while. Their madame had apparently been known to bring unknown men into her chambers even in broad daylight, and so they wondered with much passion.

The cries grew louder and louder until one of the younger red-faced maids softly knocked on the large wooden door: "Is e…e-verything in order, madame?"

"Oh, yes! Of course. You can be off to do your work," said a female voice.

How curious these maids are, in their minds, something inappropriate must definitely be happening. Surely those risqué-sounding sighs can only mean one thing! Surely this is a confirmation of the information they have been fed by the chattering bunch that was the neighbor's maids, who made it their morning routine to talk about others and their otherwise, private "adventures." Inside the mistress's quarters, however, is a completely different story.

"Why must your maids flock the doorway, ma'am?" the handsome light-haired masseur asked as he slid his oiled hands on the woman's feet. "I've been hearing their whispers ever since I stepped foot in your house, and I must say, they have quite the imagination."

"Don't mind. They are new. Young and impressionable. Their minds seem to go everywhere regarding men…Oh!" A loud bang rang outside the door. "See, there's the majordome. They will be gone."

Another series of knocks came through, but this time they were loud and confident. "Go softer now," she said to the masseur. "Come in, Monet!"

M. Monet entered the room with a red velvet box:

"Madame, a gift from one of your pursuers, Dr. Martin. I have followed your instructions and refused his entry. I have as well, a mail – from the managers of Palais Garnier."

"Ah, he again," shrugged the lady, "how many times must I say no? Even when I'm hours away from Paris, he still finds a way to annoy me. N'importe, leave it on my table. I'll return it personally when I come back."

She reached her hand to the majordome, onto which he passed the envelope.

MADAME

Mme. Carlotta has temporarily left the production 'til an unforeseeable date. Her understudy is incredibly unprepared. We ask for the halt of your vacation to assume the role of Elissa in Hannibal for your experience on a production of the same opera in your previous company.

With your acceptance, is a double of your salary for this and the next month.

MM. FIRMIN AND ANDRÉ

Is it worth it? She asked herself. After all, there could only be one reason for Carlotta's abrupt departure in the middle of rehearsals. She too had been a victim of the antics, as she called it, few times, though not as many, and definitely not as severe as the petulant diva, but nonetheless have made her walk out. Would she become a frequent victim as well? Unlike Carlotta, her patience cannot last for years.

The lady stroked her jaw. She did not know what to say. But then again, a double salary for two months along with the added publicity of being the prima donna, or at least the replacement, is no doubt a very good deal.

"Why does the letter say Firmin and André, and not Lefevre?"

"It appears to be that M. Lefevre is leaving for Frankfurt indefinitely, and had passed down the managerial role to the senders of the letter," Monet replied. "He had given no reason for his departure."

Dealing with the resident prankster must have taken a toll on him. Poor man, she thought. She set the letter on her lap and gazed at the window, and with a big sigh, she responded:

"Tell them, I'll be there in 2 days."

She asked the masseur to stop and leave. She paid him finely for his work. On the night of the same day, her lady's maid was called upon to pack her belongings, while Monet was asked to book a train ride back to Paris.

2 days later

The lady arrived in Paris the day before, but just as she promised she will arrive two days after and so sought to rest for one more day before going back to the opera house.

The day after, she arrived just before lunch hours. As usual, workers were in an obvious rush as they sprinted past her in the hallways of the house without even a greeting. From a distance, she heard the music of what can only be the main soprano's aria. She stopped by the auditorium to observe only to be caught in surprise by a young lady with an attractive blonde hair singing in the middle of the stage.

"Is it her," she asked herself, "the unprepared understudy?"

The lady's eyes remained fixated on the blonde soprano. And just as she arrived at the climax of the song, the blonde's eyes traveled to meet the lady's, and in an instant, her voice faltered.

The music abruptly stopped as the conductor also spotted the lady:

"Ma'am Faivre!" M. Reyer cried and ran to her. "As you see, there has been a sudden change!"

"Sudden change?" her brows furrowed.

Mme. Faivre banged on one of the two tables in the manager's office:

"What is the meaning of this!? You have cut my first vacation after 2 years of continuous performing in operas and concertos…for- for this? Make me travel half a country to tell me that you've replaced me when you've asked me to be the replacement! An insult, this is an insult!"

The two men in front of her, MM. Firmin and André could only look down. This is the first time they've met Mme. Faivre outside the comfortable velvet chairs of the auditorium, and to be greeted with her temper, what else could they do? They knew, of course, why she was upset, but it is no fault of theirs. Slowly, the man named André stood and opened a wooden drawer, in it was a cream-colored envelope, with an unattached seal in a deep shade of red. Without any words, he passed the envelope to the unaware soprano.

"What's this?" She eyed the man.

"Please, madame, read it."

My Dear Managers,

I am sorry to bother you at such a time of urgency, you must be very busy. Regardless, I offer you the warmest greetings in my opera house. I do hope M. Lefevre, who has always been charming to me, had not neglected to mention my little fads to you.

Much like with M. Lefevre, I ask that you follow my instructions, that is if you care for peace. I trust that he had given you the final copy of the memorandum-book, yes? I pray, messieurs, in good faith, that you follow everything that is written.

As for Hannibal, cast Mlle. Christine Daae as Elissa. She will be exquisite. Much more so than your prima donna and Altra prima donna, whose previous rendition of the character proved to be a failure. Your plan to cast her in the stead of Carlotta and her incompetent understudy will not be successful, that I shall be sure of. I shall view any disobedience as an act of contempt, and trust me messieurs, I'm not known for patience.

Your Most Humble and Obedient Servant,

O.G.

"O.G.," she muttered,

"Opera Ghost?"