Something changed after the Phantom saw her scars. Mia could already tell that he looked at her differently now. Instead of hatred and disgust, there was something different in his eyes, although she couldn't tell what. The change actually surprised, most people had the opposite reaction when they saw her arms. Her own mother wouldn't allow her to show Gaston until their wedding night when it was too late for him to back out. She couldn't get his look of revulsion out of her head. Mia honestly believed that it was because of the scars that her marriage was so troubled.

She could feel him staring at her, his curious gaze burning into her back. "You want to know how I got these scars, don't you?" she said softly, finally breaking the unnatural silence that filled the air.

"I've figured that much out for myself," the Phantom answered. Mia turned to face him in surprise. "Anyone with eyes can tell that you did that to yourself. What I want to know is why. Why would a girl with a perfect life feel the need to cut herself?"

Mia brought her knees close to her chest and wrapped her arms around them tightly. "You imply, Monsieur, that I have a perfect life."

"Why wouldn't you?" the Phantom asked. Mia could hear the spite in his voice. "You're from one of the oldest families in France, married to a well-respected businessman, sister of a Vicomte."

"Stop!" Mia cried.

"You live a life of luxury, where, until now, your biggest problem was which gown you were going to wear to a party full of upper-class snobs just like you," the Phantom continued, rising from his seat.

She put her hands over her ears. "Stop it!" she begged.

The Phantom stormed over to her and yanked her hands away. "You're nothing but a spoiled child who knows nothing of true pain!"

Mia pulled her hands away and stood so that she was standing toe to toe with her captor. "And what do you know?" she shouted. "My mother sent me away because I wasn't good enough to be her child, she forbade me from poetry, the one thing I was good at, I was kicked out of finishing school over and over again for being too hopeless, my perfect brother got to marry the woman he loved while I was forced into a marriage I didn't want, only to have my husband be unfaithful!" Tears of anger slid down her face. "And then, after all of that, I've been kidnapped just because you don't like my brother. Well guess what! I don't either! I hate Raoul!"

Once she was finished with her rant, Mia dissolved into angry, bitter sobs. Her legs gave out beneath her and she unintentionally collapsed against the Phantom. Instead of shoving her away roughly like she expected, he maneuvered her so that she was sitting back on the bed. "I know I'm not supposed to hate him," she said, wiping her eyes. "That's why I switched the letters. I may hate him, but he's still my little brother. I had to try to protect him, whether I like him or not. That and it's my own fault I'm even in this mess. He kept telling me not to come here, that I would be putting myself in danger, but I came anyway out of spite."

She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to stop the flood of words, but it was too late. "It wasn't anything that Raoul did, it wasn't his fault, but he was the favorite child by far. In my parents' eyes, he could do no wrong. It wasn't uncommon for Raoul and I to be doing something together, and I would be punished while he would be defended. Eventually I grew to resent him, especially after Mother sent me away. Even my marriage wasn't good enough for them. Mother told me if I were prettier and more ladylike, I would have attracted better suitors. When Christine came into the picture, it was my chance to be the good child, to have done something right since Raoul was marrying beneath him. Instead they just shrugged and decided he had always been foolhardy. When Gaston suggested that we replace Raoul as patron here, I leaped at the chance. It was my last chance to be better than Raoul, to succeed in something he had failed in, to be the child my parents weren't ashamed of."

Finally done pouring her heart out, Mia looked at anything and everything but the Phantom and sniffed, trying to regain control of herself and failing miserably at it. He stared at her silently for the longest time before Mia felt the softest touch on her shoulder. She risked glancing up and was surprised when the Phantom silently handed her a handkerchief before leaving the room.

As soon as Erik was in his own bedroom, he sat heavily on the bed, trying to process everything Amelia had just confessed to him. It explained a lot concerning Amelia, but it also complicated things for him. He knew that even though she clearly didn't get along with her brother, she would still try to sabotage Erik's attempts at killing the Vicomte. He needed to keep her under control certainly.

But perhaps her hatred for her brother was the key. Erik stood and began to pace. Yes maybe that was it. Small kindnesses seemed to gain leaps and bounds with Amelia, he realized as he remembered the grateful look in her eyes when he had handed her his handkerchief. If he could befriend her, sympathize with her, maybe, just maybe, he could convince her to turn against the Vicomte.

There was of course, one slight hitch to his plan. Erik had never had a friend before. Frankly, he didn't have the faintest idea how to make one either. Madame Giry was the closest thing he had ever had, and even she only served him out of fear, abandoning him when she saw the first opportunity. Erik wasn't sure he'd be able to befriend her, but it was better than nothing.

Mia woke feeling heavy, like her body was made of lead. Glancing down, she could see her arms were heavily bandaged. She reached for the book of poetry beneath her pillow, but it wasn't there. Then it all came crashing back. Her mother burning the books, her stumbling across her father's razor, the maid's screams.

She closed her eyes and fell back against the pillows with a defeated sigh. Almost instantly she sat back up as she heard her mother fighting with a man. "Madame, I insist! Your daughter is clearly troubled and needs the help of a professional."

"You're suggesting that I put my daughter into an asylum." Mia held her breath, praying that her mother wouldn't agree. She wasn't insane! Surely her mother knew that! "Never!" She let out a sigh of relief until she heard her mother's next words. "Putting Amelia in an asylum would ruin our family! We'd be the subject of Parisian gossip forever! The de Chagny's and their mad daughter! I won't allow it her to slander our family's name. We'll keep her here, under close supervision, lock and key if we have to, but I'll not let her ruin us!"

Mia woke with a gasp. She sat up slowly and began to rub her temples, trying to relieve the headache that was building. Every time she cut herself, she wound up reliving that day, the disappointment, the shame. That day she wasn't trying to kill herself, merely just find an outlet for the pain, but she had apparently lost too much blood and fainted.

Her mother had forced her to keep her scars hidden until she had married Gaston, and then he was the only person besides her parents, the doctor, and her maid, Hazel, to have ever seen them, until now. Not even Raoul knew about them. But now, the Phantom knew everything about her, and not just about the cutting. Mia knew should have kept better control of herself. If any of this ever got out, her mother would never forgive her and her family would be shamed forever.

She glanced up and nearly cried out in surprise when she saw the Phantom in the doorway. "I…I'm sorry Monsieur," Mia stammered, trying to get her pounding heart under control. "I didn't realize you were in here."

He walked over to his organ and refiled through some papers before locating whatever he was looking for. "I'm sorry. I just assumed you were asleep." The Phantom paused for a moment before leaving the room. "Good night Madame." Mia noticed that his voice wasn't dripping with sarcasm for once. She wondered what that could possibly mean.