It sounded so familiar to Erik's ears. He couldn't quite place it. His thoughts kept rushing back to the service yesterday. Christine, after so many long years. Time had only made her more beautiful, to his dismay he could see the Vicomte make his way through the gathered mourners to join her side. Erik had no claim on her, no matter how much he wanted her. Years ago when she kissed him, willing to marry the Opera Ghost to save her boy, he knew he had lost her forever when she made that choice. He wanted a willing and happy wife, not a prisoner.

And she did not love him back.

For nights his decision to let her go plagued him. The twisted voices in the recesses of his head conflicted with each other. One saying he did the right thing, putting what Christine wanted before Erik's own needs. But the other said he was foolish, that he had her in that moment that their lips met, and he should have kept her. He had awoken in the night screaming Christine's name, begging her to return.

But that was a long time ago. When she and the boy disappeared down the lake and back up to the surface, they were soon married. After that, Erik hadn't heard much about her after he fled Paris. Since then the nightmares subsided and the voices hushed. He could not see himself courting another woman-as if one could bare to love such a face-but he was well aware that Christine would never be his anymore. It seemed that The Phantom that obsessed over his angel night and day was no more.

The humming grew louder, the melody soothing and recognisable. Erik blinked in surprise.

"Angel of music, guide and guardian

Grant to me your glory"

"Christine?" Erik called into the emptiness. No one else knew that song. There was something different about this voice though. It was beautiful just as Christine's, but there was something else. But no mistake, not one other person could know that song.

"Angel of music, hide no longer

Secret and strange angel"

The harmony rang in Erik's ears, his legs trembled as he stalked toward the fading echo.

"Christine?!" The masked man called. Was she seeking him out? Or had he truly descended into madness?

But as Erik wheeled another corner he did not see see the brunette soprano. As his eyes darted about he failed to notice the twirling child bump into him from behind.

"Oof!" Angelique stumbled, losing her footing.

Realising she knocked into somebody, she stood back up, straightening down her dress.

"I'm sorry monsieur!" The girl said nervously,

Erik sighed, "It's quite alright child, I-"

He paused glancing down at her. Something in the girl's face looked familiar. And her eyes, it was like he were staring back into his own, he'd never seen eyes like them elsewhere.

"Monsieur?" Angelique asked.

"Oh! Yes. All is forgiven." Erik stammered.

The girl merely smiled back at him and ran off.

As perplexing as that moment was, Erik couldn't help but the deflating feeling of disappointment. He was sure he heard Christine singing, maybe he was finally going mad and just hearing things.

When Angelique returned to the concert hall, Christine and Raoul were watching rehearsals. Hearing the familiar pitter patter Christine turned.

"Angelique! Where have you been?" She questioned concerned, frantically running over to her.

"I wanted to go exploring, this place looks so lovely maman," The girl smiled.

The brunette sighed, "Well just make sure you tell me or your father where you're going before you run off."

"I'm sorry maman."

They stayed a little longer before departing, the daylight still shining and life very much alive in the city.

"Papa, can we go for a walk?" Angelique asked, grasping his hand in her tinier one.

Raoul smiled, "Of course, it's a very nice day out after all."

Often they would go for a stroll, but the port city Marseille was very different from the busy streets of Paris. The family took a walk through a nearby park overlooking the pier. Angelique watched the docking boats, hearing the sounds of seagulls as they flew passed.

"Did you enjoy the opera house dear?" Christine asked the child at her side.

"Oh yes maman! It was so wonderful," Angelique smiled with glee. "The dancers were so pretty."

"And you seem to have gone on a little adventure I saw." She teasingly scolded.

"Yes! There were beautiful sculptures and murals everywhere! And I saw a strange man today. I think he's a magician! He was very tall and he wore a mask."

Raoul's body tensed up.

"I'm sorry dear, what was that?" The Vicomte stuttered.

"Raoul please," Christine tried to calm her husband down. "I'm sure it's just a coincidence-"

The Vicomte stopped walking, now down on one knee in front of the child, his hands gently over her shoulders. "The man with the mask. What did it look like? What else did this man look like?"

"Raoul-"

"Christine please I need to!" Raoul said frantic.

The girl was confused by her father's erratic behaviour.

"It was a white mask, but only on part of his face. And he wore alot of dark clothes, and had short dark hair too. And-" Angelique paused, "Papa? What's wrong? Mama is papa ill?"

Angelique couldn't understand why her father seemed so frightened all of the sudden. As soon as the girl described the man she saw all of the colour seemed to drain from his face. And her mother's chocolate brown eyes widened with some sort of sense of worry.

"We need to go." Raoul said, standing he began pulling them back toward the street hurriedly.

"But Papa!" Angelique frowned, having fun on their afternoon walk. But her father already let go of her hand and ran out to hail a carriage.

"Driver!" He called

Christine still had hold on Angelique's hand, "Maman, what's wrong with Papa?"

"Don't worry darling, it'll be ok. I'm going to talk with him tonight."

"Did I do something wrong?" The girl frowned, "I thought we were having fun."

"Oh no no it isn't you at all. Don't you worry." Christine paused. "I'll make sure this is all sorted out."

"Here! Of all the cities in France that monster is alive and here!" Raoul exclaimed once night fell at the inn. Angelique tucked into bed, Raoul was more on edge than ever since they left the park that afternoon.

"Raoul! Not so loud. Now listen, we don't know if it's really him-"

"A white half mask? How many other men just walk around with a mask on their face?!"

"It could have been a performer at the opera house."

"And an opera house of course! Just think about it Christine. The Sandalphon Opera House? Don't you remember your father's stories about the Angel of Music Sandalphon? My God, how could we not see it sooner. I thought he was long dead!"

"Please sweetheart, look at me." Christine halted Raoul's pacing, bringing her hands up to caress his face. "We don't know for certain. And even if by chance it is him, who's to say he knows we're here? We only came here for the funeral after all, we'll be heading back to Paris in just a few days."

Raoul sighed into her gentle touch, "I wish we could leave tonight. I don't want to risk losing you again. Either of you."

He glanced at the closed door where Angelique slept.

"What if he knows of her? I can't bare the thought of letting something happen."

Christine shook her head, "Raoul, everything will be alright. I swear to you it will. At any rate you should get some sleep. You look dreadful darling."

After much reassurance, Raoul finally gave in and retired for the evening. But when Christine followed her husband to bed, she feigned tiredness until she was sure Raoul was asleep. Carefully she pulled the covers off herself and changed hurriedly.

There was something she needed to do. Christine had to be absolutely sure.