Christine could tell that Meg was getting better because Meg had begun to bombard her with questions about Erik that were punctuated by coughs, and the coughs were getting less frequent.

"What does his face look like?" was the question she asked the most frequently. Meg's new idée fixe was beginning to worry Christine.

"He looks ugly, which is why he wears the mask. You know that," Christine usually replied impatiently.

"You alwayssay that. I want to see what he looks like," Meg replied with an eye roll.

"Don't tell him that."

Christine had almost forgotten the ballerinas' fascination with the Opera Ghost, and Meg was living under the roof of the Phantom himself. It was obvious that Meg would want to know if the stories that they told were true, but Christine couldn't think of a way that would happen without hurting Erik. She made Meg promise her not to mention the mask around Erik, but she doubted that it would remain very effective.

"Erik, what would you do if I took your mask off right now?" Christine asked innocently when they were alone on the roof one day. She wasn't sure how exactly to broach the topic without getting him angry, and she still wasn't comfortable with bringing Meg into the conversation.

"Are you going to?" he asked warily, his eyes narrowing into slits and his body tensing like a coiled spring.

"Maybe," Christine answered, "Will you answer my question?"

"You just warned me, so I don't think I'd do anything," he said thoughtfully, relaxing a little, "But please do not take off my mask."

"I won't. I promise. I just…Meg wants to see your face, you know. She asks about it all the time, so I wanted to make sure you knew," Christine said in a casual tone, hoping that he would react more calmly if she said it that way.

She saw his hands clench into fists, but his voice betrayed no emotion. "She should know better. Her mother should have warned her."

"I told her to keep her nose out of it, but she's stubborn and bored. Please don't be mad at her. I just thought you should know."

"Thank you," he said, slowly unfurling his hands.

Christine tried to smile, but it felt fake. She knew that this wouldn't be the end of the mask issue.

When they were back in the house on the lake, Christine decided to ask Madame Giry what to do. She was Meg's mother, and she knew Erik well, so Christine hoped that she could help.

"Don't you think that I noticed it?" Madame Giry replied once Christine told her about the problems surrounding the mask.

"Actually, no," Christine said, "I didn't think of that."

"Meg's curiosity will fade once she realizes that it will not get anything. That's what usually happens when she doesn't get her way," the older woman said with a sagacious air.

"Are you sure?" Christine asked doubtfully. It didn't seem like everything would be solved that easily.

"I'm her mother," Madame Giry said, "I know her well."

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Christine didn't feel very certain that everything would happen like Madame Giry said it would, and she ended up feeling worse about the whole matter. She wanted to sing to distract herself, so she asked Erik if he would accompany her on the organ. They didn't bother to close the door, and Madame Giry stood outside listening to them.

"That last note is a b flat. Watch your key signature dear," she heard Erik say in between verses.

There was something about Erik's tone, firm, yet affectionate, that made the older Giry stop and think about it for a second time. She couldn't find the right word to describe the sentiment that it kindled in her for a while. The next time that she heard him speak, it was clearer. He sounded mature and capable, and she realized that she still thought of him, Christine and Meg as children, never really thinking of them capable of anything considerable. It was obvious that they weren't, but she held on to the image of them that way for too long. Suddenly, she felt unspeakably old.

It dawned on her that Meg might actually have the audacity to pull off Erik's mask, and it was something that she hadn't really thought possible before. It was also something that she saw she could prevent.

Quietly, she walked down the hall to the sickroom so that she could talk to Meg alone.

"I want you to put all of this business with Erik's face out of your mind, Meg," she said firmly.

"I just want to see what he looks like," Meg protested.

"He has a right to privacy like anyone else. You need to respect that."

"I don't go around wearing a mask!"

"You aren't deformed, either Meg. He was forced to exhibit his face in a freak show when he was a child. That's where I found him."

Meg looked down, avoiding her mother's eyes. "I didn't know that," she said softly, "I'll stop."

"Thank you."

The music from the other room that they could hear faintly stopped, and Madame Giry got up to talk to Christine.

"Meg won't cause any more trouble about Erik's mask," she said softly when they were out of Erik's hearing.

"Why?" Christine asked.

Madame Giry winked, and the display of humor was unlike the dignified old lady that Christine was used to.

"I have my ways."

Christine furrowed her eyebrows. "I don't think that you're going to tell me what they are."

"No, I'm not."