The next morning the Vicomte and his fiancée met Aimee early at the inn where she was staying. Thankfully since it was so early, they didn't attract a crowd. Before they did entice people to come by the three set off in Raoul's carriage. It was a long ride and none of them said much, except for usual small comments and pleasantries.

Aimee was silent because she was very tired. She had not had enough sleep last night; the evening's conversation with the couple was constantly swirling in her head like a storm. With the two different opinions of her new friends she didn't know what to make of her brother. Right now he seemed like two different people.

"Aimee."

Christine's musical voice took her from her thoughts. She looked at the beautiful woman across from her, with Raoul's back behind her, driving the horses.

"I was wondering, or hoping that if you do find him," she hesitated and kept her voice soft as she continued, "perhaps you could write to me and tell me how he's doing?" she seemed unsure and slightly frightened just by asking this.

"Yes I will do that if you wish," she nodded then asked, "But I have heard that you may be moving. Is that true?"

"We were thinking about it, but most likely not. If we did move we would definitely not leave France, and probably stay close to Paris. Just mail the letters to our house now, it will get to me," she smiled but it faded quickly.

An hour before noon the trio finally made it to a quaint neighborhood. It was filled with children paying and older folks enjoying the noon sun's warmth on their porches. Stopping at a small blue house they climbed off the carriage. Raoul walked up to the door with the two women following behind. After he had knocked, Meg opened the door, surprised to see them. She smiled though when she saw Christine, who walked forward to hug her.

"Christine, Raoul, it's good to see you, but why the surprise visit?" she asked.

"We would like to speak with your mother please Meg, on a very important matter."

Meg suddenly noticed the young woman behind the two, then nodded and let them in. Madame Giry was sitting at the kitchen table, enjoying a cup of tea when the group came in. She stood suddenly, but smiled at them, though also realized that someone else was with them.

"It is lovely to see you my friends, and who is this young lady?" she asked politely.

"My name is Aimee, Madame, and I was wondering if you could help me find my brother, the Phantom of the Opera," Aimee finally spoke.

Madame Giry's face fell into a frown. She had thought she was done with the man, but it seemed not yet. Then she realized that the girl had said brother.

"Your brother?" Aimee nodded, and then told her about her mother and the gypsies.

"Please, tell me what you know of him," she pleaded, and then they all sat down at the table.

"He is definitely your brother, because it was I who stole him from the gypsies and hid him in the Opera House. I always have and probably always will think of him as a genius," she replied.

"Does … does he have a name?" she faltered.

When Aimee asked this everyone turned to Madame Giry to listen.

"His second night in the Opera House I went to him and asked for his name. He said he had none but Devil's Child. So I gave him one, Erik. I had always liked the name, and I would have probably named my own child that if I had a boy instead," Meg smiled, "He came to like the name too, until his obsession took him and Phantom became his name," tears formed in her eyes as she paused.

"Erik," Aimee tried the name out. It was so simple for such a complex man.

"His first love is music," Madame Giry continued, "The first time he listened to an opera his face lit up and for once he was happy. Erik had never heard anything so beautiful. He wanted to be a part of the beauty, but with his face he thought he never could be. So he stayed underneath the Opera House, secretly composing his works of genius, until Christine inspired him to come forward," she glanced at the young singer who also had tears in her eyes, "The Opera House was his home. He only wanted to protect it, and have only the best for it!" she finished.

Aimee was silent for a moment, letting everything the ballet teacher had said sink in. Her brother was a kind and caring madman who loved only music. Aimee's head hurt, Erik had so many angles he didn't know which ones were truly him. Looking back at Madame Giry she inhaled slowly then asked.

"Do you have any idea, or clue as to where he might be now?"

"Truthfully he could be anywhere. I'm not sure how many hideouts he has around Paris. But if you're going to look for him, try underground. And maybe somewhere where music is played," Meg suddenly left the kitchen, "He may even be back in the Opera House."

"Aimee."

Everyone turned to see Meg in the doorway, holding a white mask that would cover half a man's face. Christine gasped and stood up, with Raoul quickly doing the same and bringing his love into his arms. Aimee stood as well and walked over to Meg. The room was dead silent as she took it into her hands and stared at what had covered her brother's mutated face.

"Meg, where did you get that?" asked her mother sadly.

"When everyone went hunting for the Phantom, we found his lair. I went looking for Christine and Raoul in one of the rooms. Instead I found this, resting on a table and … I took it. I don't know why, I just didn't want it to be destroyed," she explained.

Aimee just gazed at the pallid mask, her fingertips sliding over its smoothness.

"It's yours Aimee," Meg uttered.

She pressed the mask to her chest gently, and then turned to the others behind her.

"I need to find him … I have to find him," she proclaimed.

"Do you need someone to go with you?" asked Raoul.

"No I need to do this on my own, alone," she replied.

"It could be dangerous alone," he countered.

"With more people with me, it will be more so," she said and Raoul nodded, "Thank you all for your help, and for telling me about Erik, even though it opened some hurtful wounds."

"What are you going to do now? Where will you start searching?" asked Christine.

"This is where I am in need of your kindness once more, for I will start at the Opera Populaire."

Aimee frowned as she stared at the once beautiful and magnificent building before her. It was evening time and the Vicomte and Christine had made sure she had a room at an inn, and then had taken her to the Opera House after which they left quickly. The ruins in front of her certainly looked like the perfect home for ghosts and phantoms. No one was around, the police were gone, and the looters had taken their fill. It was only her and the gloriously dead Opera Populaire.

Mustering up her courage, Aimee finally stepped inside. It wasn't too dark, since the evening sun's light shined through the holes in the ceiling and walls. Entering the great hall with the large blackened staircase that led to the boxes and seats, Aimee tried to image how it had once looked. The golden statues were gone, and the drapes were scorched, ripped, and torn. As she carefully ascended the stairs, she heard a noise from behind her and quickly turned. A bird had fluttered out of an alcove and Aimee sighed with relief.

Madame Giry had told her how to reach Erik's infamous lair, if she didn't meet him along the way. As she carefully made her way to the stage, stepping over debris and burned seats, she saw the chandelier in the orchestra pit. A once spectacular object now was broken and ugly. Backstage was just as blackened and burned. Aimee had to be very cautious of her surroundings to make sure nothing fell on her head, or if the floor gave away. Finally she was walking down the spiral stone stairs to the Phantom's hideout. Chills ran through her as the darkness wrapped around her, and the cold went through her. Aimee was surprised to see a small boat when she reached the end of a corridor, and came to the underground water system. Slowly she pushed her way along the murky waters until she finally came to it.

After lighting a few candles that still stood, Aimee got a better look at the place. Glass laid everywhere and it shimmered when the light hit it. Many things had been stolen, so some areas of the stone lair were bare. In one corner there was a dusty and littered organ. Walking up to it, Aimee checked behind her then rested a finger on a dirty key and pressed. The note came out soft, sad, and sour. Frowning, Aimee moved away from the depressed instrument and decided to search the rooms. One looked like it was made for a princess, and had a sawn shaped bed, though only one silk pillow had escaped the looters. It must have been Christine's room, Aimee thought. Seeing that her prey was not in this room she swiftly went to the next. As she neared she heard shifting, and cautiously walked in. This room seemed to be Erik's, it had a closet and a few tables, and, of course, a bed with a pile of regular blankets atop it. The blankets moved slightly and Aimee pulled them away only to find a few rats which scurried away. With an exasperated sigh Aimee left the room and stared at the misting lake.

"He's not here."