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Once Christine made her way back to Erik's bed chambers she noticed that he was lying like he was in complete agony. She hated seeing her angel of music like that. She felt his head and just about burnt her hand because of how hot he was. Christine quickly walked over to his kitchen area and picked up the small pail of ice that Erik had left from his last trip to the opera house's kitchen. She then picked up a small cube and ran it over his hot skin as the ice melted against it. The coldness had awoken him from his deep sleep, and opening his eyes were the most painful part of it.

"You don't look so well my angel of music."

Erik shook his head no and instead of speaking to her he went for his sweat soaked shirt and tried to unbutton it. Christine on the other hand took over and removed the soaked garment from his burning flesh. His trousers were soaked too but not as much as his shirt was so didn't bother removing them from him. Christine then soaked a cloth in the pail of melting ice and ran it over his chest to cool him down.

"I don't like when you're sick my love."

Erik did not speak to his angel and just lied there acting as if he were born without a tongue. Just the thought of him speaking made his throat hurt let alone acting out on it. Erik sighed when Christine ran an ice cube over his burning throat and touched her hand, helping her glide the melting water over his skin.

"Have you seen Clorinda Erik?"

Erik had seen his daughter, she had been pouting over by the water and then moved from the water's edge to near his fire place. He gently took her hand and pointed over to where she was and when Christine saw her sad daughter she put her head down and placed the wet cloth back into the pail.

"Why do we have a daughter who hates us so much my love?"

At that moment Erik didn't really care to answer that question and just reached over for the glass of water that was sitting on his night stand and had himself a drink. Christine on the other hand tucked Erik back into bed and walked over to her daughter who was sitting by the fire place. She had a seat next to her and touched Clorinda's shoulder automatically causing her to get to her feet in silence.

"Clorinda, what's wrong?"

The girl turned towards her mother and gave her the dirtiest look a small child could give her mother.

"You know what's wrong mother, you lie to me."

"Lie to you? I do no such thing?"

"Then who is it mother? Who is my father?"

"Your father is dead Clorinda."

"Is that the truth or are you just making this up?"

Christine looked her daughter straight in the eyes and lied once more.

"Your father is dead my dear."

Clorinda began to cry, and ran off away from Erik, and her mother. Christine got to her feet and tried to catch her but Clorinda was too fast and escaped the dark lair. Christine seeing her daughter run away from her like she did brought tears to her eyes and caused Christine to break down in tears. From his bed chambers, Erik watched his beloved Christine break down into tears causing such pain to localize in his chest. He hated seeing anyone he loved upset and seeing Clorinda and Christine break down caused him such agony. If he was strong enough, he would have gotten to his feet and chased after Clorinda and told her the truth.

Clorinda ran through the halls of the Opera House and eventually wound up in the Ballerina dressing room. There was no one around and was eventually found sobbing by Madam Giry. The woman wrapped her arms around Clorinda's small body and held her close to her. She was like the granddaughter she never had, and what bothered Clorinda always made Madam Giry feel bad.

"Tell me child, what's wrong?"

"It's nothing you can help me with Madam."

"Tell me Clorinda."

The small girl wiped her eyes and looked up into Madam Giry's warm smile.

"My mother lies about who my real father is. She says that he is dead but in my heart I know that he's not."

"How so?"

Clorinda took the letter out of her pocket and handed it to Madam Giry who opened it.

"This is your mother's you shouldn't be going into her things."

"I know but it is a letter that I found written to her from the Opera Ghost. I know that he has to be my father. I know that he isn't dead and finding him would make me so happy."

Madam Giry folded the letter back up and handed it to Clorinda.

"I knew the Opera Ghost my dear."

"Really?"

"Yes, and he was a great man."

"Did my mother love him?"

Madam Giry looked away from the small child and shook her head.

"No, he loved her but she couldn't love him back and so he killed himself. He was a great man Clorinda, for he loved your mother with all his heart."

"He killed himself?"

"Yes, he dug into his heart and ripped out his ghostly soul destroying the ghost and transforming into a man."

"So he's alive?"

"yes, he is no longer known as the Opera Ghost and now is only known as a simple human being. He was once the Phantom and now to us he is known as Erik."

"Is Erik my father?"

Madam Giry knew that she couldn't tell Clorinda that he was because she promised him years ago that she would keep the truth hidden from her.

"He is like your father, he has taken care of you and your mother for a long time. So tell me Clorinda would you rather call a strange man "Father" or would you rather call Erik as your father?"

Clorinda smiled.

"True, Erik has taken care of me my whole life. He stands up for me when I'm sad he makes me smile when I'm upset and he is my teacher. He even took care of me one time when I had the measles."

"I want to tell you something Clorinda and this is very important. When I was a small child just like you my mother also told me that my father was dead. For years I went on living thinking that my father was dead. When my mother died I was brought to the opera house to live the rest of my childhood dancing for the public's enjoyment. When I turned twenty years of age I had become one of the opera house's greatest chorus girls that ever performed here. After one of our biggest shows a man was waiting for me in my dressing room, this man was my father. He had told me that he had been sent away to war and that is why he was never there for me but as time went on I really found out that he was nothing more that a drunk. My mother had told me he was dead so that I would never have to know about the humiliating man she slept with. Your mother is doing the same for you Clorinda, Erik is more of a father that any one could ever want and is better than any old stranger that you don't even know about."

"You're right, and I love Monsieur Kire for that."

Madam Giry stood the small girl up on her feet and held her hands.

"Monsieur Kire has been there for you his whole life and now he needs you."

Clorinda thought a moment and then realized that he was sick and Madam Giry was right.

"I must go, but thank you for talking to me. I fell much better now."

Clorinda ran back down to Erik's lair and walked to his bed chambers where he was lying in complete agony. Christine was no where to be seen, so Clorinda approached him and had a seat at his side. Erik turned himself away from his daughter and waited for the tears that never came. At that moment he heard the words "Thank you Monsieur Kire."

Erik looked at his daughter and felt the pain in his chest go away. He couldn't speak to her but he knew that she respected his kindness. Even though he couldn't speak to her, he was going to remember this day for many years to come because this was one of the happiest days of his life…….