Thank you all so much for spurring me on this far. I never thought I would make it to twenty chapters.

RedDeathLvr, thank you for the review!

thegeyerguesthoouse, we don't know who's killed Nadir, not yet anyway. Thank you for the review, they really do help to spur me on.

Angel's wings, thanks for your positive and ongoing feedback. Seriously, thanks!

So it continues.

The church was barren. Empty and cold bar for the candle light that flickered around, Lily sat, as the guilt that burned inside her slowly unhinged her troubled mind. The old man watched her from across the church hall.

She bit on her nails, making a snap, snap, snap. It was freezing cold, but there she sat dressed as if it was summer. Even from across the church he could see the goosebumps on her tender arms.

He walked over to her quietly, as if approaching a wounded animal he didn't wish to scare. She knew he was there, opening and closing her mouth like a stunned fish. Oh how she wanted to confess her sins, tell the world what she had done; to her sister, to the opera house...

As he sat next to her, he took her hand. Her teary gaze shot up to him and she looked him in the eye.

"Are you ready to confess your sins?" He asked, with soothing voice.

Then, with a nervous gulp and a churning stomach she followed him towards the altar of the church, ready to confess all.

Gwyneth stood, staring at the masked man with awe. She linked arms with her husband and rested her old head on his strong shoulders. His music could make one feel anything he wished.

Cynthia smiled and sat on the piano next to him, caressing his hand that remained pressed to the keys as he played his last note. He grinned and looked to her, she had such a beautiful smile.

"Have you ever played?" He asked in a smooth voice as he wrapped an arm around her thin form. Laughing almost sarcastically, she motioned to her eyes but he shook his head. "It's easy, let me show you."

And with that, he picked up her hand and placed it gently on the keys - then pressed down on her fingers in the same rhythmic way, until she did it herself. Then, accompanied her with the bass.

That big, glowing smile grew bolder and made his heart melt. Henry stood, bold and proud of his daughters choice in suitor.

After super, Henry escorted Erik to his room. The house itself was grand, quite new - the smell of fresh paint was very prominent. The old man bent over and unlocked the door with much care and precision. The room was larger than anything he had ever seen.

Erik walked in, looked around and smiled politely at his lovers father, who closed the door behind him.

"Cynthia's lucky to have a man like you in her life." Erik's eyes widened in shock, he'd never even considered it that way, "She can be very stubborn when it comes to men and well... her condition hardly helps." He looked down at the ground as Henry continued.

"But she seems to trust you. You're someone who she can rely on." The old man smiled and grunted as he sat down on the chair in the corner of the room.

"To be honest Sir, I think I'm lucky to have your daughter. I've loved others before, but I've never cared so much about someone." The old man looked at him skeptically.

"Is that because of your mask, and your wig for that matter." The Phantom closed his eyes and let out a big sigh.

"What's wrong with your face anyway, if you don't mind me asking?"

"I... was... deformed at birth." Erik confessed as he slumped onto the bed, clutching his mask.

"I see..." Acknowledged the old man, nodding and stroking his stubble that he lazily shaved on a rare occasion.

"It has hindered everything that I wanted to do with my life..."

"And what was it that you wanted to do?" He asked curiously, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh... everything!" He laughed throatily, with deep passion. "Architecture, composing, magic, medicine, science, inventions!"

"And do you do them?" He asked, as he took a cigar from his pocket and lit it. Erik nodded in reply.

"I built a maze of mirrors for the Shah of Persia. I composed my own opera, helped Nikola Tesla in his investigations with electricity... But I will never be remembered." He sighed "All because of my cursed face."

"If you don't mind, may I see?" Erik stared at the man in bewilderment for a while. Why did he want to see? Surely he would only laugh, frankly he didn't care anymore.

The Phantom peeled off his mask and slid off his wig. He closed his eyes tight so he didn't have to see the fear in his eyes. All was quiet. Then, he felt a hand pat his head and a small chuckle.

Erik opened his eyes to see the old man smiling down at him, his hand on his head. "My son, I have been in more wars than you can count on your fingers and toes, I've seen some horrific 'injuries, this is nothing. It makes you who you are. Not to be insensitive, but if you looked like an angel and used your intelligence... You'd never have met my little girl. You've made her so happy and brought out that little girl I used to take on picnics, who would laugh and have fun. You have a rare gift son, use it and make her happy. For me, please?" Erik nodded and put on his mask, his heart glowed a little inside.

Cynthia walked into her room, with a tired and shuffling step. She could sense that someone was sat there, waiting.

"Cynthia... there's something that I've been needing to tell you." Lily shifted nervously on the bed as collected the papers in her arms. Cynthia could immediately sense that something was terribly wrong.

"Yes Lily, go on ahead." She approached the bed and sat next to her beloved sister.

"Have you ever heard the story, of the Phantom of the Opera?" Lily asked, licking her lips nervously. But her sister shook her head.

"Then you're in for a shock, my dear."

Oh dear.

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