A/N: Merry Christmas everyone! I hope you have a wonderful day, however you end up spending it (especially if you spend it online reading fanfic :). Thank you for all your reviews. They had me walking around grinning like an idiot for half an hour.
Chapter 8
Émilie quickly came to recognize both faces as her father, though she seemed to prefer the maskless face that smiled and cried and made silly faces that she could not yet imitate. Not that she'd ever be able to imitate features that were naturally grotesque, but she tried. Erik was sure to tell Christine of all her daughter's accomplishments.
He told her that her daughter's first word was Erik and her second was Emmy. Her third was Christine.
"Erik," began Nadir one day, "why does Émilie talk about her mother so often?"
Erik froze. Christine was not a permitted topic between the men. The last time it had been brought up, when Nadir suggested he move some of Christine's things out so he might release his grip on the past, Erik had physically chased him from the house. This time Erik asked calmly, "Is it unusual that a girl should speak of her mother?"
"It is when her mother is gone."
"Don't say that."
"Christine is gone, Erik."
"Don't say that!" he shrieked, drawing himself up.
"You talk to her, I know you do. Allah knows I talked to my wife for years, but what of Émilie? She cannot grow up with a ghost. What will she think when she leaves this cellar?"
Erik fixed Nadir with a penetrating stare. "Why would she ever leave?"
"Oh, Erik, has she ever seen the sun? She needs to be outside. The cellar of an opera house is no place for a little girl. Now she needs sunlight and fresh air. She'll need to run around. Later she'll need friends, people her own age."
"I didn't need friends!" he roared. "Friends who mock and jeer. She is safe here, with me!"
"And she'll be safe with you in the sunlight as well."
"Get out!"
Nadir sprang up himself, but not to leave.
"Consider what is best for Émilie. You are clinging too tightly to Christine, but she is gone from this place. You do not need to be here to have her with you. You have Émilie. Christine is always with you."
"You fool! You know nothing," Erik spat. You think you understand me? No one understands me. No one!" Erik raked his fingers against his scalp, pulling hair out as he did. "You are a constant thorn in my side, Daroga. Always meddling. I do not want you here! I do not want your advice! Leave! Get out! Or I will go find my lasso."
The screaming subsided into incomprehensible muttering and Nadir finally retreated, considering taking Émilie with him. It had been many months since he had seen his friend in a rage, but he rather thought the child would calm him. He left, and planned to return in a week.