No matter how hard he tried, Erik could not convince Angelique to leave the opera house. She seemed determined to hide away beneath the earth forever.

After much deliberation, Erik finally came to a decision. It wasn't his first choice, but it was the best he could think of under the circumstances. It was worth a try at least.

"Angelique, how would you like to see an opera?"

She agreed at once, much to Erik's dismay.

It was surprisingly easy to secure a box for that night's performance. The managers now kept box five empty as a rule.

This was mainly for two reasons.

One: the actors, being extremely superstitious about such things, thought it would be better not to anger the ghost of the infamous phantom. They insisted that it would bring horrifically bad luck down upon the entire opera house if someone displeasing to the ghost should sit in his box.

Two: It had become surprisingly profitable to have one empty box so that they could have something to stare at during the production. Since his demise, the story of the phantom of the opera had spread alarmingly. It was now extremely fashionable in certain circles to come to the opera for the sole purpose of watching box five and to discuss what one saw (or what they thought they saw) over chilled fruit and wine in the foyer after the performance.

For his part, Erik found it extremely irritating that the managers had refused to grant him his private box while he was still 'alive,' but now that he was dead, they were only too glad to leave it free.

When they arrived, they found programs had been placed on the empty seats, probably at the insistence of the cast and crew. Angelique picked up her program and flipped through it excitedly while Erik calmly took his own seat. How many operas had he seen in his time there?

Meanwhile, Angelique looked down at the stage in wonder. "It's wonderful!"

Erik couldn't help but laugh a little. "It's just a curtain, wait until the show starts."

"Yes, but it's a wonderful curtain. I've never seen anything like it," she said, leaning farther out to get a better look.

Erik placed a hand on her shoulder and gently pulled her back. "Wait until the light's dim. We wouldn't want anybody to see us, would we?"

Angelique shook her head, and sat back in her seat. Below them in the pit the orchestra began their warm up. Erik saw Angelique shuffle through her program for the hundredth time out of the corner of his eye.

"Stop fidgeting."

"I can't help it, I'm too excited!"

Finally, just when Angelique thought that she wouldn't be able to stand it any longer, the lights dimmed and the curtain went up. It was a new production, something that Erik had never seen before. As the music began, Angelique chanced a glance down at the audience. It was humorous to see all those upturned faces staring back at her when they should have been watching the stage. It seemed as though they were staring right at her. She wasn't worried though, Erik had assured her, that they would be well hidden in the shadows.

Angelique turned to Erik and laughed, "They're all looking for you. I wonder what they would do if they knew you were actually up here!"

Erik had a pretty good idea of what they would do. The managers would probably have a heart attack, quickly recover and then call the police. He had taken a big risk by bringing Angelique here tonight, but when the dancers came on stage and he saw her smile, he knew it had been worth it.

He was glad she was enjoying herself. Personally he thought the piece was rather dry. It was a love story. The plot was poor, and the music was just good enough to be considered passable.

Finally, after what Erik considered an eternity, there was an intermission.

"Erik, it's wonderful! I wonder how it will end."

"Tragically."

"You don't know that for sure. Perhaps her love will realize his mistake and come back just in time."

"Not likely. I've seen this one before."

"I thought you said it was new."

"It is."

The curtain went up again and they were treated to a bit of dancing by the corps de ballet.

"Did you see that?" Angelique asked.

"What?"

"She missed a step, there third from the left. She did it again!"

Erik peered down at the stage, but could see nothing out of place. The dancers seemed to be dancing in perfect unison. Then he saw it, the ballerina third from the left was off, if only by the slightest degree.

"Sloppy." Angelique said with disgust.

Later that night they discussed the show at home over chilled fruit and wine. Erik was sorry that he could not take Angelique to the foyer for discussion. He felt sure that she would be right at home rubbing elbow with the opera's most distinguished patrons.

"You were right, it did end tragically, but who could have predicted she would die right before the end?"

Erik sipped his wine and said nothing. After a moment curiosity got the better of him and he had to ask. "Angelique, how did you notice that the dancing was off tonight? They looked like they were doing perfectly to me."

"I'm sure it appeared that way to the audience as well." Angelique gave a slight smile. "My mother was a dancer, here as a matter of fact, sometime before I was born. She taught me a thing or two about it. She was pretty good two from the stories I was told, but she was dismissed suddenly one day, because of an unfortunate injury. My mom always said that it was one of the other girls who had tripped her that day, and I would believe that before I would believe she tripped over her own feet. After that she met my father, and well, once you have a child it's very hard to go back to something that demands so much time and dedication."

Erik was just about to ask Angelique more about her mother, when suddenly the lake alarm went off. Angelique looked at Erik over the top of her wineglass as if to say, 'well, it's not me.'

Startled Erik quickly donned his cloak fearing the worst. He was just sure someone had seen them in the box and that they had been followed. There would be no avoiding it this time. Whoever it was he would have to kill them, but what if they were missed? By tomorrow he could have half the opera house knocking on his front door. With those dark thoughts, he checked that he had his punjab lasso, cursed under his breath, and headed out to the lake.