IV

The carriage ride to the apartment was lanky and bothersome. Christine's presence was a charm compared to the awful heat inside the confined box. The weather did not care it was dusk instead of a pleasurable afternoon. Summer was coming and, according to Christine, it was the most attractive season for tourists. "Paris is a darling." Is what she said to me the first month I'd fallen into her care, and when I refused to leave the opera house entirely. I was grateful she had not shunned me away due to my rarity and was ever so patient with me.

I shook my thoughts away as Christine rested her head on my shoulder. "I need a refreshing bath once we are home. These days have made me feel uncomfortable in my own skin."

I nodded in agreement as I peeked out the carriage window, taking in the beautiful lights and people as we passed by.

"I'm glad we get to rest for three days. The managers have gone away, and, during rehearsals, the maestro gave us permission to lounge those days away."

I quickly turned my attention to her. "Will we not go to the opera house tomorrow?"

"There is not a need for it. The only ones there will be the stage workers and the people who reside there."

"I see." I sighed.

Christine sat up and lay her hand on mine. "I am glad you have taken a liking to the opera house and some of the people, especially the maestro."

I felt a small smile form on the corner of my lips. "He reminds me of my papa. Such a passion for the arts, especially music. Though I doubt my papa would have the patience the maestro has to conjure when facing La Carlotta."

"That woman." Christine bit her lip. "I never wish malice on anyone, but I sometimes wish Er –" she cleared her throat, "…sometimes wish something would happen to her and she would just disappear."

"Christine." I exhaled softly. "Would you tell me about the phantom?"

"Lizzy, please do not listen to Meg. Ever since we were children, she would frighten me with ghost stories. I don't want her doing the same thing to you." Christine patted my hand. "Forget about the phantom and worry about what we will be doing these next three days. Would you mind meeting with Raoul again? I've been so busy with rehearsals that I am afraid I have neglected him.

"Why don't you go alone?" I encouraged. "As you said, you have been neglecting him and I would feel like the useless object of the trio. Besides, I enjoy the isolation."

"You are not useless so don't ever say that again and are you certain you will be alright by yourself?"

"I am. It's the journey rather than the location that makes me anxious. I can always secure the door and windows." Christine then pulled me into a hug. "I am fine, Christine, so please - I am not a child."

"You are to me." She patted my head. "Forget Raoul. Let us enjoy our days together. We can go to the markets and window shop like we did last week; I saw you eyeing those gorgeous earrings. We'll pretend we are of high society, ready to spend our husband's money."

"The vicomte will be pleased to hear his money will be well looked after." I chuckled.

In turn, Christine lightly elbowed me. "There is more to Raoul than his money, I assure you. When we were but a foot tall, he and I would always go down by the shore and listen to the waves while we looked up at the clouds, trying to make out their appearance. I could only hold on to those silly childhood memories during the years we were apart."

"I understand."

"Ah, I'm sorry. There I go talking nonsense while you have been parted from a loved one as well."

"It's alright. Just like the vicomte found you, my brother is out there looking for me."

With that said, I let our conversation end in fear of Christine taking pity on me again.

That night, after Christine had gone to bed, I continued my nightly ritual. I sneaked out onto the balcony and took in the silent city. The air was calm but still hot; I had always preferred winter above all the seasons. There was something about the cold air hitting my face that would make me feel alive. Painful as it was, it was a sensation telling me I was alive.

I closed my eyes and tried to imagine what the city would look like covered in white. I envisioned the streets buzzling with business as people walked from shop to shop trying to find the perfect gift. The streetlamps adorned with garland and bows. Families eating lavish meals together, telling each other how much they cared and loved one another.

It would be unlike my family many moons ago.

My papa, a composer and conductor, would often come home late, even during the holidays. My mama would lecture him on the importance of family time and how he too needed a break. "Life is not all about music, Edward."

"And it seems my loving wife has forgotten music was what brought us together." Papa smiled as he greeted mama with a kiss and proceeded to embrace her from behind. "Should I remind you, darling?"

"Papa!"

"My little moon." Papa held his hands out and carried me into his arms. "Should a lavender appear under the winter's sky…"

"I'll greet you with a happy sigh." I finished our greeting. "Did you bring me something?"

"I bring you my love, my little moon." He reached for his inside pocket. "And this trinket."

He had given me a crescent moon shaped brooch, adorned with small iridescent diamonds. I recall it being heavy in my six-year-old hand, but the smile it brought upon my face, made my papa glow with pride.

Meanwhile, I breathed at the once upon a time memory and pondered on Christine's comment; she was right, they were meager childhood memories that held no magic to bring that time back. I could get lost within them but if I did, my abject reality would engulf me, holding me captive. Every day I wished to go back, back to Italy, my brother, my parents, my home, though I knew there would be nothing and no one to greet me, but a cold abandon shell of a home haunted by ghosts from the past.

There would be no one to kiss me good morning and good night. To protect me from the nightmare of a life I was thrusted upon. To dismiss all feelings of isolation; I did not enjoy it because I wanted to, but because I had to.

I had to remain hidden and if that meant depriving myself from everyone, then so be it, I refused to go back to the life I'd fled.