Sorry about the delayed update, everyone. The one rule I've learned is you should never write about a silent character getting sick, because you will then lose your voice, and with it, your plot ideas.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize.

Chapter Four

Erik POV:

As morning arrives, I check once more on my young guest. Abby barely got any sleep during the night, due to her coughing. But it has begun to fade away in the last hour, and I smile when I see her sleeping form curled on the bed.

I walk to the pantry, taking a small piece of cheese and spreading it on a slice of bread. My true breakfast will wait until Abby is awake. But I take the remaining broth from last night and start a fire to warm it up.

I sit back down to work, but my distraction from Abby's illness has left me with nothing to write. I slowly brainstorm lyrics, and after a few minutes, I have a preliminary verse and chorus.

That's when the pen is snatched out of my hand.

I whirl around to see Abby standing there, going over what I just wrote and changing the occasional word. "You should be in bed," I mutter, picking her up.

She squirms our of my grip, grabbing a piece of paper. I'm fine, she writes. I just needed a night's rest.

Abby turns back to my music, editing it for a few minutes as I stand watching. Finally, she holds it up.

I nod. "Go play it. Let's see how it sounds."

She runs off. I stand with my eyes closed, listening as she begins to play. Her first three notes are distinctive: C, F, E. After that, they all begin to blend together into a pure melody.

I stand entranced for nearly three minutes, until Abby falters and misses a beat. I open my eyes, looking at her. She has grabbed the pencil from my stand and is editing the next segment of my music.

"That can wait until you've had breakfast and changed into some clean clothes. Madame Giry will be coming by this afternoon, and I expect you to look presentable." Abby nods, but remains where she is. "Abby, this instant, or I will have to carry you." The girl glares at me, rolling her eyes and continuing her work.

I walk over to her. "Now." I lift her up despite her struggling and carry her to her room. I know her limits; anyone who knows the Gypsies knows how they punish misbehavior. I realize quickly, however, that she'll be too scared if I bring back memories of her childhood. I put her on her bed, pinning her down gently.

"Next time I say that you have to do something, Abby, you don't hesitate." Eyes wide, she nods. I let her sit up. "You should realize that I would teach you a lesson if not for the Gypsies. Next time, I won't hesitate. But I will let you have your way this time, as long as you dress and eat now. " Abby takes her clothes off of the table, and looks at me. I hear a single cough as I step out, and I glance back, worried. Abby is ignoring me, unconcerned with her sickness.

I cut Abby some bead and cheese, and pour a bowl with a small amount of broth for her. The thought of punishing the child has made my hunger disappear. I wait until she comes out, dressed in a white shirt and soft trousers, slightly large on her. She tucks the shirt in as she approaches, eying me warily.

"Eat. Then you can stay in your room until Madame Giry arrives." Abby nods, a faint smile on her face. She eats quickly, and soon runs back to her room.

I work for the remainder of the wait. I don't hear a single sound from Abby for a while. However, just as I am preparing to leave, I hear her knock at her door. I open it, expecting her to lunge at me in retaliation. Instead, she takes my hand, scribbling furiously.

Am I to stay here waiting?

"Yes, Abby. But we took the long path to get up there yesterday. I will be back very soon." She nods.

I shut the door again. Donning my hat and cloak, I take the boat across the lake to the shortest route. I climb up to the box, arriving a minute before Antoinette.

When she shuts the door to the box behind her, I notice the three parcels tucked away in her coat. "Monsieur, I am sorry if I am late. The items I had to find couldn't be brought into the opera house previously, for fear of someone noticing."

"It is alright, Antoinette. I myself have only just arrived." She sighs in relief as I open the door and we make our way back to the lair.

When we arrive, I call for Abby. "You may come out now. We are back."

She peeks out of the entrance after a minute. I understand the fearful look on her face. Who is this woman? she asks silently. Is she to be trusted?

"She is one of the two people, other than yourself, who has ever come to my home." And lived, I add silently.

But Abby trusts me, and that is a bond I am hesitant to break.

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