She sat on the couch, turning the letter over in her hands. The writing was unmistakably hers, yet for Adellade-for her own friend to conceal the truth of her family! To pretend that the opera ghost was simply an opera ghost and nothing more!

"Any progress?" Nadir asked. "What is that you have there?"

"A letter Adellade wrote to him." She sighed. "How could she never tell me!"

"To be fair: everyone is entitled to their secrets." He sat down beside her. "And you might as well have noticed that Erik is a very private man-very few of his affairs are ever made known-his past even less so."

"How long have you known?"

"For a long time. But to be honest: I have known them for a long time as well. My first encounter was when Erik was hired as a worker to help construct a new palace for the Shah of Persia. Then a few of his designs fell into well-placed hands, and he was taken on to be an architect. Eventually, he rose to be a magician, composer, and even assassin…. The last one I won't go into too much detail.

"It was after he became a favorite of the Shah did Adellade come to Persia searching for her brother. She found him, and together the two endured so much."

"What do you mean?"

"Have you ever seen a slip of her sleeve? Just enough to see a hint of a scar along her arm? Or perhaps a bit of flesh that seemed as if it were burnt?"

"A few times, but I only assumed it was a trick of the light."

"I can assure you it was no trick." He sighed, his gaze drifting to where Erik still sat. "The Shah would hurt her, as others have before him. He would hurt her until Erik had no choice but to comply with any order he was given. It was the only way to stop the Shah. The days I would see him wandering about, protectively standing over her as if she was to be taken from him the second his eyes left her. Even now he's out there, hopelessly waiting and praying that she will wake…. Mazenderan-the area of Persia where they stayed while the palace was being constructed-was the darkest of times for them. I've no idea how many times Erik had almost lost her-had blamed himself for not being quick enough-had almost collapsed from exhaustion because he had worked day and night to save her….

"So you can see, Christine, why Adellade would wish to keep such a thing hidden-why Erik would insist that she did. He wants to keep her safe-to keep their relation secret so that no one could ever use it against them. Yet Madeline Destler has, hasn't she?"

"Adellade said she chained her up."

"Given Erik's rantings about the woman, I would be able to believe that. He detested his mother-hated her to the point where he refused to acknowledge that she was ever his mother. According to him: she's the woman who gave birth to him and nothing more."

"What did she do to him to make him hate her so?"

"Simple: she locked me in an attic and refused to see me without my mask."

They turned, Christine standing as Erik made his way to one of the rooms, Adellade still in his arms. Nadir put a hand on Christine's shoulder as they waited for him to return.

"Well?"

"She still has some way to go," he explained, returning to retrieve some herbs. "However, she has cooled enough so as to not be in any immediate danger. This should help…."

"You said your own mother locked you away in an attic?" Christine asked. "Why?"

"You have seen what lies beneath this mask. The face that was so horrid that no one should ever know whose child it was. The very face kept locked away because tossing it out would be more shameful than anything! And you wonder why she fabricated the lie that poor infant Erik had died a week after his birth! Better to have died than to bring shame upon the Destler name."

Her eyes slowly opened, seeing something come into focus…. She tried to move, tried to get away, only to find her limbs unresponsive.

"Easy now," Erik soothed, reaching to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. "Easy. No need to be afraid. You're safe here."

"Nadir-he-he was-the Shah-he-"

"Hush. No need for that." Some dark look fell over his face too quickly for her to be certain. "You and the Daroga both fell into the torture chamber Erik has here as one of his traps. Your mind had become confused due to the heat."

"Erik…."

"You need to rest. You're still weak. Still recovering. The Daroga suffered much less than you did. Perhaps I shall send him in once you're stronger, should you behave. Here. Drink this. It will help with the dizziness."

"Christine…."

"She is here as well. The Daroga seems to be capable of keeping her decent company despite his reputation." He stood and gently kissed her forehead. "No need to worry. Sleep now. Recover your strength. You're safe here, Adellade. Erik is here. You're safe."

Her eyes grew heavy as he left, closing the door behind him.

"I'm glad you're alright," Christine pointed out as she sat on her bed.

Adellade smiled. It had taken some begging and insisting before Erik had permitted her to have visitors despite her arguments that she was perfectly fine. Naturally, she had wanted to see her friend first-more so to reassure herself that Christine wasn't too harmed by everything that had occurred.

It had come as a shock, though, when she heard from Christine that she had learned of Adellade's relation to Erik, and thus had spent several hours questioning Nadir on the subject. She had attempted to know more from Erik, though he denied ever bothering to care about the matter.

"You could've told me," she pointed out, resting her hand on Adellade's. "We're friends, and-"

"I know." She sighed. "I didn't know how to tell you. Or how to tell anyone else for that matter. It's always been myself and him for as long as I can remember. Honestly: I can hardly remember what my life was like before I met him."

"He's your brother. Shouldn't you have known him your entire life?"

"Honestly? No. Madeline-mother-she kept him locked away in the attic. He wasn't allowed to come out, and as a result, I never knew he existed until I met him one night by accident. For the longest time after that: I thought he was something I dreamed up. It wasn't until she forced me to see who he was-what was behind his mask-did I learn the truth."

"Weren't you frightened?"

"I'm not certain I ever was. Madeline-she was much worse. I never dared to speak against her or go against her wishes. There were a few hours in the day I had to myself, and those I spent with Erik up in the attic. He would teach me how to read the books she kept up there. Oh, there were times I denied that he could ever look the way he did-but then I stopped denying…. I suppose to me: he's always been another face. Nothing more than another face belonging to another man, Christine. Nothing more."

"It still frightens me to be down here. How can you stand it?"

"I've slept in tents, in barns, in an inn, and even in a palace. If I could survive to wake another day there, what's the difference in sleeping here?"

"I look at him sometimes-and I wonder if he ever intends to let me go-if I'll ever see anyone else ever again…."

"Give him time. People have a bad habit of doing unimaginable things to him once they know who he is. Give him time, Christine, and you'll see. He won't hurt you. Oh, he may be upset at times and very, very stubborn, but I doubt he would ever truly hurt you."

"He hurt all those other people. How can you stand to be here when you know that he's hurt other people?"

"Because I trust him. Because I've seen him do horrible things-I've seen him do such horrible things, and I've seen what they do to him. I've seen how he looks when he thinks no one is watching."

"Still…. I can't imagine that the same person who hurt those people-the same person who looks like that-is your brother of all people! That he actually might care about you…. The concern he showed-the hours he refused to leave your side…."

"I told you: Erik's a good person. You'll see eventually. Just give him time. He's been hurt so many times before. So many times before…."

"Like you have?" Christine covered her mouth with her hand. "Forgive me. Nadir mentioned it before, and…."

"It's alright. Nadir is a good friend-even if Erik refuses to admit such a thing."

"He mentioned that they would hurt you?"

She nodded, rolling up her sleeve so Christine could see. "They would take me out and hold me down so that I couldn't escape. Erik would be forced to watch as they would cut me, and the only thing that could stop it was for him to obey. He has killed before, Christine. He has killed before, but only because it was the only way…. The first time, the Shah had locked me away in a chamber similar to the one Nadir and I fell into. He had only returned me to Erik once he had finished. He hated it so much. He only continued because if he didn't, then they would force him to watch me get hurt."

"I'm so sorry, Adellade. For you to go through something like that…."

"It wasn't too horrible. The nights were the best. Erik was always there during the nights. As long as he was there, I knew I would be safe-that he would keep me safe…."

He leaned against the doorframe, listening to their conversation, straining to hear for any sign of tiredness in Adellade's voice. She had always insisted that she was stronger than she was. The days he would beg her to stay in bed, to recover from the Shah's latest punishments, only to have her insist that she would be fine…. She thought him stubborn? The same girl who had travelled across Europe to find him in Persia because she didn't want to be left behind thought him stubborn?

Yet there was also the matter of Christine…. She wanted to leave this place. How would he know that she would return to him? That she wouldn't seek Madeline out or return with a mob at her back, intent on hunting him down? On hurting his poor Adellade the way others had before….

Erik sighed, sitting at the organ. He could feel the exhaustion that came to him from time to time in the days he would refuse to give in to sleep. Those days when he would worry that she could vanish from his grasp in an instant. She thought she had dreamed him up? He had thought the same of her so many times….

How many times in those lonely years in Persia had he dreamed of her? How many times had he cursed his mind for giving him dreams of seeing her once again, knowing very well the cruelty that she would be subjected to? How many times had he felt guilty at how relieved he was when she had finally found him once again? The angel who had saved the demon from himself…. Those days had come-days he had wanted to escape, to drink the stash of poison he had, only to foresee the pain it would inflict upon her-the grief she would experience….

Now here she was. Talking with Christine. Redeeming him in her eyes. He reached up to touch the mask…. He had imagined his life once if it wasn't for the mask…. Had imagined a life with a loving family, a happy wife-a life where he could walk about without a hint of rejection or recoil to be seen on the faces around him. He had spent his days in the attic, watching the men and women stroll by, imagining that one day a couple would come knocking on the door, asking about a deformed child they had lost so long ago…. That he would be loved without fear….

The one thing he had kept the same was her. Adellade. HIs precious Adellade. He chuckled to himself, smiling as he pictured her. She was always much younger-time placing her back in those days when she had been happy before the gypsies and the Shah had entered her life. Funny how he could always still see that little girl-that same little girl who had hid in the attic, sleeping next to him out of the childish fear of a storm.

She silently led Christine out of the lair and through one of the tunnels. She turned back every now and again to reassure her friend that they would be safe, that Erik wouldn't intentionally lead them into a trap. Even once they had emerged, Christine continued her fears about where he was insisting on taking them. Adellade did her best to calm her worries-despite not knowing of the location herself.

A carriage pulled up to receive them. Christine climbed in as Adellade eyed the driver, seeing the dark cloak and hat with the brim pulled down to hide the mask he wore.

"Not here," he whispered next to her ear.

She climbed inside and took her seat, staring at her own hands as he drove them. What reason could he have of wanting to move them without ever speaking the location? She trusted him that they were going to be alright, yet to not know where they were going….

She eyed the window, seeing the lights of the city pass them by as they headed for a darkened countryside. Christine herself was trying not to appear as frightened, yet she too continued to glance out every now and again in fear. To be whisked away from the stage into the lair of the opera ghost, to find that her own friend had kept the past buried, to now be riding in a carriage to an unknown location….

The sun began to rise as Erik pulled the carriage to a stop. He opened the door, helping the two of them out. She looked around at her surroundings, seeing the grassy field stretched out before her….

"This way." He led her on. "This is as close as the road will allow."

"So where are we going then?"

"A place that would seem to remain in my name." Erik sighed and she eyed him. "Garnier refused my denial, and after inspecting the place, I was unable to demolish it. Despite his annoyances, the man does know how to design a proper cottage. I've had no use for it though until now."

"We're not staying in the lair?"

"Dangerous to remain there. Madeline Destler remains frantic with the disappearance of her own daughter so soon after the vanishing of Mademoiselle Daae here. You can rest assured that I have had the Daroga handle that aspect so that it became nothing more than a simple case of fright and a wrongdoing with the lights."

"So why insist that she come with us then if no one will think to blame you?"

"I thought you might enjoy the company. I still have a few things to sort out in Paris. Things which you would rather not be involved in-and there are no arguments otherwise."

They came to the top of a hill, overlooking a small valley where a cottage sat nestled below them, hidden from the road leading toward a nearby village. Erik led them onward to the front door and opened it.

Adellade stepped inside, seeing the simplicity of the design itself. Everything had its purpose, and nothing was too extravagant. She could tell that Garnier had meant it to be a cottage for a man such as Erik to live out the rest of his days being able to enjoy opening up the windows without being seen by a villager. There was a kitchen and table, a sitting room with a small piano built in, along with two bedrooms, both identical in size and furniture. Everything had been planned according to Garnier's impression of working with Erik. She silently thanked him for building the cottage-and for Erik not being able to demolish it.

"I will return in a few days," he explained. "You are free to do whatever you please here. I only ask that you remain here. You may visit the village, take walks, but under no circumstances are you to return to Paris. Do you understand?"

She nodded. "Whatever you're planning: be careful."

"I promised to see you in a few days, didn't I? Erik would never dare to break a promise he had made his Adellade." He gently kissed her head. "Never. A few days, Adellade."