Epilogue

It has been a few years since these tragic events took place, and until now, nobody but Christine and myself have known the whole truth about what became of Erik. But recently, there have been so many rumors flying about regarding this mysterious masked genius, and they have caused so much anxiety among the public, that I find I have to reveal the whole story at last. People should know that they have nothing to fear from Erik now, and I also want to give them a more nuanced portrayal of him than that stereotypical image of the "dangerous murderer" which has figured in the tabloids.

I think I mourned Erik more that I had expected to, and more than I would care to admit. After all, I hadn't known him that well. We had never been personal friends in the true sense of the word. I had been his student, his tool, his silent partner in crime, but never his friend. I had admired his genius greatly, but also feared his madness, and my grief, however sincere, was nevertheless mixed with a strong feeling of relief.

Christine was, of course, devastated at the news of Erik's death, but I understood that it didn't come as a complete surprise to her. She had known him well enough to see how tormented he was, and I think she was somehow glad that Erik didn't have to suffer further humiliation during the course of a trial. Christine did not change her plans to go on her scholarship tour with Raoul, and stayed away for more than two months. When she returned to France, she seemed a changed person - more stable, more radiant, more confident in her own abilities. She stayed at the music college for another year, then applied and was accepted at one of the most prestigious schools in the United States. Subsequently, she moved there and has since made quite a name for herself as a professional singer. Raoul came with her as her fiancé, but the last time I spoke with Christine I learnt that their engagement had been broken off. When I asked why, she replied:

"I grew up. Raoul never did."

I believe they are still good friends, though. And I have no doubt they will both be happy with someone else, someday.

I will very briefly relate what became of the other people at the college, as far as their whereabouts are known to me. Little Jammes eventually got accepted into the flute class and is now studying to become a flutist like her sister Louise, who has secured a position in the city symphony orchestra. Pauline and Marcel, the mezzo-soprano and the baritone, have both done well since they graduated and if you ever come to our part of the world you may well hear both of them performing in concert or on an opera stage. Carlotta Piangi's voice never recovered, and after the tragic circumstances around her father's death, neither did her psyche. I don't know where she is now, or what she does. To the best of my knowledge, most of the professors I had while I was a student at the music college still teach there and haven't changed in the least. Only M. Ivanovich is now retired and is leading a quiet life in the countryside, playing the piano and growing vegetables. He is still as confused as ever, but I am sure he is happy.

As for me, there isn't much to say. I stayed at the music college and finished my degree in music education, even though college was never quite the same after that turbulent first year. I now teach courses in music appreciation in high school. My interest in music theory has persisted, and I dabble in composition from time to time, mainly for my own amusement but sometimes writing for my pupils.

Once the police investigation was over, I made sure that all of Erik's music was preserved and I have since been a devoted ambassador of his compositions, making sure they are printed and spread, and arranging performances of them when I can. Christine, too, makes a point of including some of his work in all her recitals. It is our hope that, in time, Erik's crimes will be forgotten and he will be remembered for his music, and all the beauty he created during his too short and much too miserable life.

That is another reason why I am writing this - to let you know that Erik existed and that his music still does.

My name is Meg Giry, but that is of no importance. You may well forget my name, as long as you remember his.

-THE END-