That night Cecily slept little. Her dreams had been taken over by an unrelenting nightmare, and she refused to sleep again that night.

It was a nightmare she had had before. It began with a house obviously in mourning. All the mirrors were covered and black lined the stairwell. The blood in the upstairs room had stained the floor, and two girls huddled in a room. Despite the air of mourning, men that neither girl had ever seen before still strutted about the house as if they owned it, chasing after the newly widowed mother.

Always, Cecily felt herself one of the girls. The other was ripped away from her, and the younger girl's cries floated on the night. She screamed out her sister's name, "Sophie!" and woke. The same nightmare had come sporadically for years. This night, it refused to let go.

Unable to sleep, she went to her office and began to fill out the seemingly endless stack of paperwork it took to transfer ownership of the opera house.

---

It was still early when Cecily's hunger started to gnaw at her stomach. Setting down her pen, she decided to go the café for breakfast. She was unwilling to risk the cook's bread, as the cook had been ill. The street was just waking as she stepped out into the sunrise. It was beautiful, and Cecily paused to take it all in.

"It's wonderful, isn't it?" It was the voice of the Vicompte.

"Yes, it is, monsieur."

"You may call me by my name, Raoul."

"Then you may use my name. Cecily."

"Well, then, Cecily, what are you doing up so early? I expected the opera house to still be sleeping for several hours."

"As Ben Franklin said, 'Early to bed, early to rise, make a woman healthy, wealthy, and wise.' Or something along those lines. I am out to get breakfast. Would you care to join me?"

"It would be a delight, I'm sure. Where are we headed?"

Cecily pointed to a little café around the corner. "It is pleasant and simple. And they know me there."

"Then off we go!"

She smiled at his boyishness, took his proffered arm and descended the staircase.

---

"You truly didn't have to buy my breakfast, Raoul, but it was very kind of you."

"You have told me much about this place. I consider it an honor."

She patted his hand lightly as she removed her arm from his. "Well, here we are. Rehearsal should be in session." The stage was strangely quiet. "I wonder…"

M. Andre interrupted her. "Monsieur Vicompte! I am very glad to see you! Come with me!" The man seemed high-strung, as always, and Raoul allowed himself to be led away.

Cecily laughed at the two gentlemen and turned toward the wings. Meg and Christine were eyeing Raoul and whispering, the first two of many, Cecily was sure, to fall under the boy's charm. She had stood there no longer than five minutes when Raoul came back to her. "Thank you for the lovely breakfast, Cecily. We shall have to dine together another time." He raised her hand lightly to his lips and smiled. "Until we meet again."

"Au revoir, Raoul."

Above her, a pair of eyes traced both Cecily's exit and the leave of the foppish new patron. His mouth set in a grim line, he stalked away, waiting for an opportunity to show his displeasure.

---

She had only stepped a few feet outside the auditorium when she heard the crash. She raced back in, only to be met by a raging Carlotta. "Dese tings do 'appen! Da nerve! Ugh!"

The chaos on stage seemed to be caused by a fallen backdrop. Whispers of "Phantom!" raced through the air, and Cecily raised her eyes to the catwalks in a vain attempt to find the telltale black cloak.

"He reminds you also that his salary is due. M. Lefevre paid him 20,000 francs a month, but perhaps you can afford more, with the Vicomte de Chagny as your patron." Mme. Giry was prodding the two new managers, as much onto the scent of new blood as the rest of the opera.

Firmin shook his head disbelievingly. "Madame, I had hoped to have made that announcement public tonight when the Vicomte was to join us for the gala but obviously we shall now have to cancel, as it appears that we have lost our star. A full house, Andre, we shall have to refund a full house!"

Cecily did the basic math quickly, and it caused even her to flinch.

"Christine Daaé could sing it, sir."

"Christine?" she interjected.

Mme. Giry gave her a level look. "She has been well taught."

Andre nodded briskly, and Mme. Giry ushered Christine to the front. M. Reyer nodded to her, and the music started. As she knew it would, music fit for the gods floated from her lips. No, not fit for the gods. Fit for an angel of music.

Slowly she backed out of the auditorium. Back in her room, she tried to take it casually, this victory of Christine's. Try as she might, all she could think of was Erik's smiling face.