Both the medic and the spy assumed correctly that his career was over. A spy had to be able to blend in well with his surroundings, and with a facial disfigurement, that was now impossible. However, it would give him a greater chance of being recognized by any Germans he had previously worked with.

Christine mentioned different doctors who were performing facial reconstruction surgeries to men who were disfigured in the war, specifically a doctor in New Zealand. She asked Erik to think on it, but he quickly decided against it.

Despite how gruesome his face looked, Erik's injuries were not as bad as many others, who had lost jaws and worse. The gash in his right cheek wasn't as bad as originally thought, and though it would leave horrible scarring, the wound would heal enough for his jaw and mouth to be functional. His nose was practically gone except for the top of the ethmoid bone, which, with his thin frame and already deep set eyes, gave him a skeletal appearance. Erik found this ironic as his codename was once "The Phantom". But even then he didn't want the surgery. It was known to be long and painful, leaving the patient looking worse half way through the surgery due to parts of the face being connected by new flesh to the neck or arm.

Thankfully there were medical masks available to those with facial deformities, and prosthetics for those with missing noses and even cheeks, mouths, or jaws. They could be painted to look realistic, but Erik wasn't sure if realism to his old face was such a good idea.

His main reason to forgo surgery, and even perhaps a realistic mask, was anonymity. No one who had seen face when he was a spy would be able to recognize him now. His face would leave him isolated and haunted, but alive.

Over a period of weeks, Christine and Erik discussed topics other than the former spy's recovery options. They got to know one another…or rather, Erik got to know Christine. Erik could not mention himself much at all, for the French government and his own protection.

However, they both acknowledged that they were solitary people. Erik, for reasons not discussed, and Christine for her tragic past.

She had lived alone with her father, who was a musician, for many years but was orphaned at age 12. She was taken in by her godparents, the Valerius'.

"She's not in good health however," Christine said. "She's suffering from the memory loss. Alzheimer's, I think they're calling it now."

Erik was solemn. "I'm terribly sorry."

"It's alright," she replied with a forced laugh. "She's who inspired me to study medicine. Even if I can't help her, I can help other people."

After a long pause, Erik asked, "Forgive my rudeness, but surely you have friends? Other relatives, or a fiancé to help you in your care for your foster mother, perhaps? You…you are a wonderful person, I do not imagine you being friendless." He paused. "I am sorry, I'm sure you do not want compliments from a deformed patient."

Christine blushed. "It's alright. Thank you, Erik." She smiled sadly. "I did have a fiancé, but no friends. I was rather isolated. But…he…he and I were close friends as children one summer, and we reconnected after many years, and fell in love. He was my best friend. However, my hus…my fiancé….his family did not approve of us, but he and I were determined to marry. His family disowned him. He lost everything, his family, his wealth, for me. I was quite upset with him at first!" she laughed, and then sobered. "I was still with Mama Valerius, but my fiancé now had to find a way to support us once we married." She paused. "And then, right on time, the draft came. We promised to marry when he came home."

There was a silence. "He didn't come home, did he?" Erik said quietly.

"No."

"Christine, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have ask -"

"Don't be. It's good to talk about him. If it weren't for him being drafted, I wouldn't have come here, and I wouldn't have been able to help you, or anyone else. I think he would be happy that I'm helping others. I'm happy to be able to send a few husbands back to their wives, sons back to their parents. I don't want to pretend he didn't exist."

"What was his name? Your fiancé."

Christine looked up, her face calm, but tears evident on her face.

"Raoul. Raoul de Chagny."