Raoul jerked awake, sitting upright in his bed, gasping for breath, "NO.." rolling off his tongue. These nightmares were only the beginning, he thought dreadfully to himself. His heart thumping so loudly he swore it echoed in the hollow room. He slid from under the sheets, feet facing the floor still resting on the bed. The night flashing before him. Only one day before she had slept in her bed in the comfort of the dormitories. She had slept with the belief that he would protect her, guard her, guide her. All of his promises lie in the ashes of the Opera House now.
He held his head in his hands, running his fingers through his hair and down the back of his bent neck. Raoul stood, walking over to the window he saw the first glimmers of daylight on the East horizon. It would be morning in a few short hours. He could begin his search again. This time with a much larger group of men, and a days provisions with them so they would not have to turn back until every inch of the caverns had been searched. He'd send out scouts to the woods, the byways, the inns. If he had been able to escape with her, he would be found. If he had stayed in those caves, he would be found.
Determination in his jaw, Raoul slipped out of his nightclothes and went to his closet for his garments. Morning had not yet broken, but he would be ready to greet it when it did.
XXXXX
Madame Jiry looked over at Meg who was sound asleep on the bed. She'd never made in that far. She had been sitting wrapped in a blanket in a chair by the window. All night she had watched carefully as the firemen went in and out of the building, each returning, shaking his head. The fire was not completely out, she could tell by the smoke that still seeped out through the broken window panes. She'd kept vigil through the darkness of the night, desperately hoping to a see a pair of shadows emerge from the side door that Erik always used. Alas, there had been none.
With a big sigh she pulled herself away from the window with cup in hand. She walked over to the fireplace and retrieved the kettle, refilling it. She couldn't remember when last she'd eaten, her stomach rumbling now.
She made her way down to the kitchen. Finding a loaf of bread with a large hunk of cheese lying next to it. A few sweet savories in a jar next to that, along with a note. "Madame Jiry, please help yourself to something if you wake before breakfast." She smiled and laid the note back down on the cupboard. She sliced several pieces of bread a few of cheese. Putting it on the plate left for her, she walked back up to her room.
Meg had not woken, she was thankful. She must be exhausted from the travails of the night; not knowing where her friend, nay, sister might be now. Madame Jiry lifted the crust and cheese to her lips and sunk her teeth into them, tasting first the sweetness of the bread, and then the saltiness of the cheese. It was a wonderful treat. She took several sips of her strong coffee to wash it down. She was thankful to be alive, and thankful for the generosity of a stranger, who had taken them in. Madame Jiry finished her bread, and the last of her coffee. Looking down at the empty plate, her thoughts trailing off… "I hope that they are all alright…" she closed her eyes and leaned against the window sill. Sleep tugging at her, although she couldn't bring herself to give in to it. So many lives hung in the balance…one never knowing which way the scales would tip.