A/N: I've got a double update for everyone! However, I will warn you now, the second does have a very small amount of corporal punishment, of which there is no description at all. The chapter is very important, so I have marked off the paragraph for anyone who is still worried.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Erik POV:

"Why does she walk on her toes?" Antoinette mutters, glancing at me. "Besides, I thought you said it was a girl. The hair-"

"Yes, and her name is Abigail Williams," I say irritably. "She is perfectly intelligent, and I would suggest speaking to her directly." Abby is closer now, close enough to hear every word. I don't recognize the look on her face, but it resembles fear.

She holds out a scrap of paper. Hello, it says. Thank you for your concern; however, you will soon discover that I am fine.

"I wouldn't be so sure of that," Antoinette says, kneeling down. "I know that you may not realize it, but the way you walk could hurt you someday." Abby shrugs, looking at me and putting her fist to her lips.

"The coughing hurts?" I guess. She nods, and I look over at Madame Giry. "Would you mind?"

"I'll certainly make sure it's nothing serious, if that is what you are asking, Erik." She offers Abby her hand as she stands up, and the girl leads her to her room.

I watch them walk away, Abby on her toes. Giry is right: she could easily sprain her ankle if she steps on uneven ground.

I open the parcels I took from Antoinette. Venison, good. Abby will love that. Clothes that look suitable enough for her, black and white thread to fix up my clothes. And something I know she will love: Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, along with the sequel, Through the Looking-Glass and What Alice Found There. I smile beneath the mask, knowing that Abby will enjoy herself plenty in the weeks to come.

I begin to cook the meat in the pot, taking bread out to go with it. Abby's stomach might not be able to handle everything, I remind myself, so I refrain from offering her cheese.

When Antoinette finally comes out, I look at her. "Perhaps you would like to join us?" I ask, cutting the bread. Abby runs over, still on her toes, and peeks into the pan, grinning. She grabs a slice of bread and sits down.

Antoinette sighs. "She has just as many scars as you, Erik. But her cough should go away within a few days. I'm sorry, but I cannot stay for supper. Meg has a large rehearsal this evening, and I would not want to miss her performance. I can find my own way up, thank you." She nods at me, glancing at Abby. I know what she is thinking: how does the girl not want a mother? Giry is by far the best person to fill the role that I have ever encountered, but the girl just ignores her.

As Antoinette walks away, Abby tears into her bread. Looking at me, she wiggles happily.

"Try the meat," I insist, handing her a fork. She puts it down on the edge of her plate, tracing I can't grip it into my palm. I nod, and she holds the meat in her hands, licking and nibbling it. She looks at me.

"Do you like it?" I ask. She nods. "Then don't worry about rationing it, no matter how hard it is. We can get more any time you would like it." Her face lifts as she gets excited, finally taking a large bite. "Not too fast, Abby," I warn her. "I don't want you getting sick."

We sit on the shore of the lake, eating and relaxing, for nearly half an hour before I ask her which clothes she would like to wear more often. She points at the ones she has on, to which I nod, planning on fixing more of mine.

As she gets up to go back to her room, I slip the books inside her jacket. I don't expect her to notice, but she proves she has learned from the Gypsies when she freezes and looks at me.

"See what it is," I suggest, my smirk invisible beneath the mask. Abby obliges, removing the books. She stares at the covers for a few seconds before launching herself at me.

I instinctively reach beneath my coat for the Punjab, but she pulls away, running to her room. Suddenly, I realize what that was: a hug.

Abby hugged me.

I get up and follow her, hardly knowing what is happening. I have never felt such affection before, not even from my own mother. But Abby has seen my face; she knows that I have no one to love me. She is everything I have lacked in life. Christine may be my lover, but Abby is my child.

We go about the rest of the day normally, Abby reading both books by the time I force her to eat something. She eats a few bites before scribbling into my palm, Is it alright if I go to bed? I smile, nodding. She gets changed and goes to sleep quickly, a habit that probably stems from the Gypsies getting only a few hours of sleep each night.

I don't bother to sleep. Instead, I go over what Abby changed in my music this morning, and slowly come to the realization that Abby is more like me than I realized.

Abby is a prodigy.

A/N: Like it? Hate it? Let me know in a review!