A/N: Okay, more than a few of you have read this story and haven't reviewed. Love it? Hate it? Please tell me what you think. I appreciate those of you who are taking a few short moments to send me a review--it means a lot to me!

Chapter Fourteen

As Erik paced across the field, he was relieved to see that the first carriage had already left for the noon Mass. He was nearing the main door to the house when it swung open, and Monsieur Laurent stood before him, smiling. "Ready to go?" he asked Erik.

"After you," Erik motioned toward the waiting carriage.

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Very few words were exchanged between Monsieur Laurent and Erik during the trip to the church. Erik had been lost in thought, and the other man seemed to take note of it, leaving him alone for the most part. How can I avoid being near her at Mass? He wondered. Perhaps I should simply remain in the carriage until the service has ended. Then he remembered Amêlie…she would likely be disappointed if he did not attend. Erik sighed in frustration and began to pray for a way out of the situation.

As the carriage arrived at the entrance to the church, Erik grew uneasy. "Monsieur, I believe I shall enter through a different door…I prefer not to be a distraction for those present." He gestured to his mask.

Monsieur Laurent smiled weakly. "I understand, Erik…but I hope that in the future you will feel differently…the people here are very loving and accepting."

Erik held his tongue. He wanted to tell the man that he was daft, and that he could not possibly understand what it was like to be a freak of nature…and that even the most well-meaning people viewed him as an oddity, at the very least. Instead, he simply cocked an eyebrow at Monsieur Laurent.

The men parted ways. Erik could see the first carriage waiting up the road several yards from him. As he began to turn in the opposite direction, he caught a glimpse of Madame Suzette and Christine stepping from the carriage to greet Monsieur Laurent. He turned swiftly, swallowing the lump in his throat, and skirted around the side of the church building, slipping in through one of the side doors he had discovered during his brief stay.

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Erik made it to the organ loft without being seen. He had slipped in and up the stairs after he had seen that no one was seated at the bench. From there, he could see the whole congregation, but they could not see him, if he crouched and sat low enough. The service began and Erik found his mind wandering to Christine. One or two times, a hymn that he somehow knew was sung a cappella, and he sang along with the rest of the parish.

Amêlie was seated in the front pew, nearest the organ loft. She cocked her head at one point, and her mother stopped singing, glancing at her. "Everything alright, ma cherie?" Suzette whispered. "Yes, Maman…everything is fine," she smiled. He is here. I can hear him singing, she thought, a rosy glow appearing upon her cheeks.

Unbeknownst to the Laurents, Christine also heard Erik's voice rising in the air, though she could not tell where it was coming from. But, oh, she knew that voice! She closed her eyes and let the sound wash over her. It's like coming home, she thought breathlessly. Oh, God, I need him…please…help me. I don't know what to do! A tear escaped her eye and she quickly raised a gloved hand to wipe it away. The Laurents had not noticed her gesture…but the one perched above them bore witness to Christine's every movement.

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Angel of Music, why do you cry? Erik thought, watching Christine from above. God, she is so beautiful. It seems as if I haven't seen her for an eternity…and it has been but a week since we were last…since we…. Erik sighed and hung his head. She does not love you, you fool! She cries because of you…because she cannot seem to be rid of you! Erik berated himself.

After what seemed like an age, Father Michel brought the service to a close and the congregants stood, milling about and conversing with one another until they had all left--except for the Laurents, Christine, and Erik. He could see Father Michel exchanging words with Monsieur Laurent, and he watched him smile warmly as he met Christine and shook her dainty gloved hand. Christine smiled back at him, and Erik noticed that she seemed to be studying the old man curiously, but said only a few pleasantries and then was gone. Monsieur Laurent carried Amêlie as he escorted his wife to the waiting carriage. He returned again, almost immediately, staying behind to speak with the priest.

Erik shifted his weight and ducked out the loft door, making his way down the stairs. As he got to the bottom, he opened the door to the first floor just a crack and peered out, straining to hear the conversation between the two men. Erik chuckled slightly as he formed an idea…and he watched closely as the scene unfolded.

The two men were standing at the doors to the church when they suddenly heard a hiss behind them. "Hellooooo." They jumped, startled at its close proximity. They spun around and saw no one. Father Michel looked at Father Laurent. "Did you hear that?" he asked, wide-eyed. Monsieur Laurent nodded.

"I said, HELLO!" the voice now boomed, and both men let out a cry of fear.

"Who is there?" Father Michel called out, his voice trembling. "Show yourself!"

Erik stepped out from the door, haughtily striding toward the men with a mischievous gleam in his eye.

"ERIK!" Father Michel shouted. "You nearly gave me heart failure!" He threw his hand over his chest to emphasize his point.

Erik laughed low in the back of his throat. "Well, gentlemen, I do have to make an entrance, you know."

Monsieur Laurent and Father Michel glanced at each other and both broke into nervous laughter at the same moment. Erik stared at them. "I must say…that isn't the reaction that I usually get from people."

"Ah ha…ha…hmmm…yes, well, I suppose not," the old priest replied, attempting to regain his composure. "Monsieur Laurent says you have some good news to tell me."

"Yes, Father. But I should like to speak to you…" Erik glanced at Monsieur Laurent, "…alone."

"If you will excuse me, I shall wait for you in the carriage, Erik." Monsieur Laurent turned and strode out the door.

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"So, my boy, tell me this good news of yours!" Father Michel beamed at Erik, settling into his armchair.

Erik could not help himself…he smiled at the old man. "I have secured employment as an architect, Father."

The priest clapped his hands and nearly shouted. "Oh, bless my soul! That is just marvelous, Erik! You must be thrilled!"

"I am," he replied, still smiling slightly.

"Well, then. I am glad to hear it. Is that all of the news you have for me today?" Father Michel questioned him innocently.

Erik hesitated, looking down at his hands, trying to find the right words to speak. His smile faded. "Father, I…I believe that something has happened to me."

The old priest wrinkled his brow. "Happened? Nothing awful, I hope."

"No, no. It…it was…a dream of sorts. I believe that…" he sighed, feeling rather foolish about what he was going to say. "I don't even know how to say this. You mustn't laugh!" Erik spoke firmly.

"I would not laugh at you, my boy. You should know that by now."

"Yes. Thank you…as I said, I had a dream and it was as if there was a…a war…going on inside of me," Erik paused.

The priest leaned in. "Go on, Erik."

"There were terrifying things…and I…I called out for help…in my mind…and a light came and…and it spoke to me." Erik looked down at his feet. "I know this must sound so ridiculous to you," he said gruffly.

Father Michel touched Erik's shoulder, and Erik met his gaze. "Not at all, my boy. Tell me everything."

And Erik did. He recounted his prayer and the thoughts that came to him seemingly out of nowhere, as well as the Bible passage that he had read. Then he finally came to his most important question.

"Father, if God planned me, and planned my days, then why did He let all of these things happen to me in my life?" Erik looked almost distraught, as though he were truly and deeply searching for a way to reconcile this contradiction within himself.

Father Michel sighed. "Oh, Erik. God loves you…that is the first thing that you must know. But to answer that, I must pose a question to you, my boy. How is it that God allowed you to commit your crimes and me to commit mine?"

Erik had not expected this question to be directed to him. "I…I do not know." He sat motionless, staring at the priest, awaiting some sort of answer.

"God allowed our crimes and mistakes because we chose to commit them. We chose to live our lives according to our own wills—our own plans, Erik. We did not consult Him before we made our choices, did we?" the priest asked him.

Erik turned this thought over again in his mind. "So, what you are saying is that…the events of my life have been due to a series of choices made by other people and by me?"

"Yes, that is exactly what I am saying. We each have a 'free will.' We can make our own decisions…but we must also bear the consequences. Bad things happen to everyone, Erik, but God is not the root cause. Man's own sin is the root cause."

Erik frowned. "What does that mean?"

Father Michel gazed at him tenderly. "It means, dear boy, that the wicked people who have hurt you your whole life did so because they chose that path, and God allowed them to choose it."

Erik was angry now. "And what about me? What choice did I have, Father! They did not ask for my permission to beat me and treat me worse than an animal!" he roared.

"Erik, listen to me. No one can truly say why such horrible acts are committed every day, except for the fact that sin has entered the world, and the enemy of our souls prowls about as a roaring lion seeking to devour us…and in many cases, the enemy succeeds."

Erik sat quietly now, trying to absorb what the priest was saying.

"In the New Testament, there is an account of a man who was blind from birth. Jesus was walking along the road with his disciples, and they saw this blind man. His disciples asked him, 'Lord, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?' And Jesus told them that neither the man nor his parents had sinned, but that it happened so that the work of God might be displayed in his life."

"And what happened then?" Erik asked curiously.

"Jesus healed him."

Erik sat in stunned silence for a few moments. At last, he cleared his throat, tears beginning to well up in his eyes. "Father," he whispered, "do you think that I am like the blind man?"

Father Michel grasped Erik's shoulder firmly, tears brimming in his own eyes. "Yes, Erik, I do. I think that everything that happened is so that God could show His glory through you…as a changed man."

"But why so much pain?" Erik rasped.

The priest shook his head. "I do not have the answer for that, my boy. But I do know that He suffered more greatly than you or I ever will. He took our burdens upon Himself, Erik, on that cross. Let Him bear your burdens even now. Release those things to him. Allow Him to help you forgive those who have hurt you. Please."

Father Michel and Erik sat motionless after this, each one praying silently without the other's knowledge. When Erik stood to leave, the priest noticed that his face was slightly reddened from weeping. "I am here for you whenever you need me, my boy. You have only to send for me, and I will come to you, day or night…we are family now."

Erik grasped the old man's hand tightly and exhaled a ragged breath. "Yes, Father. Thank you."

He made his way out of the study and into the waiting carriage outside the church, exhausted and relieved to be heading home.

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A/N: To poetzproblem: Thanks for reviewing again! Yes, it was an awkward reunion, wasn't it? They do have a lot to work out. I will do my best not to disappoint you.