Readers,

Here is a more direct image of Cecily's past for all of you who have been wondering. It is told from a different perspective, so take it with a grain of salt at this point. This chapter is rather heavy. If there is any part of this which you do not understand, be sure to include it in a review. The explanation for many of the events will come with the next chapter. Thank you very much.

S.R.

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Cecily allowed time to slip away from her, taking with it that night. The Opera House ran smoothly, with only the occasional interruption from La Carlotta. Her temper tantrums were the biggest disturbance to Cecily's work around the opera, work that was steadily increasing in amount and responsibility.

She was currently standing near the curtain, watching as Mme. Giry finished her ballet lesson for the morning. That woman had utter control over the ballet rats. It was quite remarkable. "Straighter, Marie! Point your toe! Collette, pay attention! Come now girls, we must know this!"

The girls that were to have the lead ballet roles in this opera were the very girls Cecily had watched over for years. Meg and Christine danced beautifully, both having matured into graceful ballerinas. It was the fear of every girl in the troupe that she would develop in all the wrong places, forcing her early retirement. It would be a waste of years of training.

She turned, taking in other preparations for the upcoming performance of Il Barbiere di Siviglia. Costume mistresses chased after flitting ballerinas, stagehands chased after wayward colleagues, and Piangi chased after an irritated Carlotta. All was as it should be in the opera house.

Out of the corner of her eye, Cecily thought she saw a face staring at her. Her heart gave one great knock against her ribcage as recognition set in. She turned slowly, hoping to high heaven that she was imagining things. The face had disappeared. She shook her head, and walked back toward the office. She had paperwork to do.

Around the corner she met Fabrizio, who was pacing back and forth, his brow wrinkled in indecision. "Whatever is wrong with you, Fabrizio? You cannot be so nervous about your role? After all, you have played leads before!"

"No, is not about the role." Suddenly he stopped his pacing, looking frantically at Cecily. "I am very worried. I wish to ask Linnea…"

"Fabrizio! We have had this conversation! Ask her then!"

He shook his head vehemently. "No, no! I cannot!"

Cecily's eyes narrowed. "Why? What has happened?"

"I stopped to speak to a woman who said she needed help. She asked me about you. I told her that you often were in the manager's office, and she thanked me and kissed me. Linnea saw."

"Oh, Fabrizio!" Cecily's heart fell rapidly into her feet. She swallowed hard, trying to put aside her own worry for a moment. "What did she say?"

"Linnea said nothing, just ran away! I cannot find her, but Meg said she was crying when she saw her."

"And, and the other woman? Where did she go?"

Fabrizio waved his hand disinterestedly toward Lefevre's office. "She ran off. Will you help me find Linnea? I have to explain to her."

"I will help you later. I, I have to go, go find M. Lefevre." Cecily's voice was distant, struggling among the sea of worries that was consuming her. She left Fabrizio standing there distraught. Her heart pulled tight within her. Linnea knew in her heart that Fabrizio loved her, but she was young and capricious. She would come to her senses, but the other woman was cause for worry.

She flung open the door and immediately felt a familiar sensation. A knife was being pointed at her by a hand she knew could bury it in her chest without hesitation. "'Ello, love. I've been lookin' for you." Cecily staggered back against the wall, recognition and surprise almost too much to bear. "Aw now, don't you remember your old friend? It's me Jaclyn."

Memories threatened to overwhelm her with the simple mention of that name. "What do you want?" she spat.

"Such words my dear. Tsk tsk. From the way all them folks talked of you, I thought you were a regular fine lady. I see that you can take the girl outta jail, but you can't do nothing about taking the jail outta the girl, eh?"

Cecily repeated herself, each word dripping poison that seemed to do nothing against the one standing before her. "What do you want?"

"A little help. A job maybe, some money to get started, a place to stay. I wanted to meet some of them pretty little dancing girls you got."

Cecily took a step forward. "You will not touch those girls. You will ruin them as you have ruined me. I committed my sins and paid for them. Keep to the already corrupt, you fiend! I will not let me turn these girls into opium fiends!"

"Cecily, I…" M. Lefevre walked in the door only to have Jaclyn set upon rapidly, the knife pointed at his throat.

"Opium fiends? They don't deserve opium!" The strange look of her eyes and the shakiness of her hand convinced Cecily that that was what she had come for: money to buy more opium.

"Jaclyn, leave this be! I will give you the money!"

"Too late for that! You forgot what you owe me is deeper than francs!"

"What?" M. Lefevre poked his question into the conversation.

"Oh you don't know about your little darling? That she is a little jailbird taken flight?"

"Jaclyn, don't!"

The woman ignored her, taking pleasure in the worry obviously written on Cecily's face. "Your little dear here ain't what she looks. She's a regular demon, she is! A murderer. Just decided one day to knock off her old man! Ain't that right girl?"

"No! Stop it, you wretch! Leave us all be!"

"Not right? Where did I go wrong then? Ah, yes, I forgot the part about you being daddy's little whore!" The older woman spat viciously at Cecily's feet. Cecily froze, her eyes wide with shock. "What, didn't remember? How you confessed all your little escapades and how he turned to the little one, you killed him for it? How I saved you in prison?"

"Saved me! You sacrificed me for your own wellbeing! You threw me to the dogs!"

"Not the dogs love, the guards."

A rage she had known only once before overtook Cecily. Blindly, she threw down her cane and ran at the woman, the force of her body throwing the three of them to the floor. The woman grabbed Cecily's cane and beat her violently across the back. Cecily groaned and as she struggled for the knife, ripping it away by the blade. The length of her hand bloodied and torn, she pointed it at Jaclyn, taking a breath to keep herself from running it through the dastardly woman. "Get out." The woman backed up, taking one last opportunity to hiss at Cecily before slipping out.

Cecily followed her to the stairs. "Have her taken to the Sûreté," she called down to a guard. "She has attacked M. Lefevre."

Suddenly tired, she trudged back into Lefevre's office. She could not meet his gaze. "I will clear my things out immediately, monsieur."

"Clear out your things? Surely not!"

Cecily looked up at him questioningly. "I do not know who or what you were before you came to this place, but here you are a woman of good repute. And as far as I am concerned, you just saved my life." He wiped his hand across the small nick the blade had made in his skin, trailing blood across his cheek. "I suppose I'll have to get that taken care of. But as for you, you must stay. You have become indispensable to this opera, and I won't lose that to the ravings of a madwoman."

"She, she was not mad monsieur." The confession pained her, feeling as though as piece of her soul was being ripped away. "She said true things, though distorted."

M. Lefevre looked down at her sorrowful face and torn hand. "I believe that truth is in the eye of the beholder. You are a good woman. Now go get cleaned up. You have tomorrow off, but I expect you back to work on Thursday." Seeing her about to argue, he held his hand up. "Go."

Cecily ran as quickly as she could from the room, trying vainly to hide her tears. She wrapped her hand and hurried around the corner, her limp becoming more pronounced with each step. Her cane was of little use to stop the throb running through her legs and back. Gritting her teeth, she checked the tears that threatened to cascade down her face.

"Cecily! Where did you go?" Fabrizio caught up to her. He saw her hand and tears and immediately stopped. "What happened? Who did this to you?"

"The past," she spat. Seeing his concern, she tried to calm herself. "Someone who thought I owed them something. Listen to me, Fabrizio. Marry Linnea. Marry her and take her away from this place. Take her to your family, who will love and care for her as she could never be here. Protect her! Damn it, protect her!" Her tears refused to be held back any longer, and she hurried to her room, leaving Fabrizio stunned.

She locked the door, letting the tears stream down her face. The physical pain wasn't excruciating, but the weight of the memories was too much. Collapsing onto her bed, Cecily worked out her pain in sobs and writhing. "I cannot escape it! Not even so far away."