"You alone can make my song take flight... It�s over now, the music of the night!"
"No, wait," Christine cried, "I--"
"It�s over now!"
"No!"
"It�s over..."
"Please, no!"
"Oh, Christine... Christine..."
"Christine!"
Christine woke with a start, relieved to find herself not in the Phantom�s labyrinth, but in Madame Giry�s small cottage a mile away from the opera house. She sat up straighter and shuddered as she glanced out the window at the growing darkness. She quickly turned her face from the blackness of night, finding Meg Giry�s concerned eyes upon her.
"Christine, whatever is the matter with you?" she said softly. "What are you dreaming?"
"Nothing."
"You wouldn�t be yelling �please, no!� if you were dreaming of nothing." Meg gave her friend a skeptical look. "You�ve been having nightmares for two weeks now! You know there�s nothing to be afraid of. You�re perfectly safe here, and the Phantom�s disappeared, and--"
"Please, don�t talk about him!"
"Who? The Phantom?"
"Please, just don�t." Christine closed her eyes and shrank back into the chair.
"Why are you so terrified? He�s gone. No one has seen him since--"
"I know that." Christine stood and pressed her hand to her forehead. "I�m not feeling well. I�m going to bed."
"You�ve ignored my questions for two weeks, Christine. I would think you would want to talk to someone about what happened."
"Well, I don�t," Christine snapped, a bit more forcefully than intended. She sighed. "I�m sorry, Meg. I just...I can�t talk about it now."
Meg shrugged. "I�ll be here when you want to talk."
Christine managed to smile. "Thanks, Meg." She turned into the small hallway and walked to the bedroom Madame Giry had cleared out with only a moment�s notice when Christine was too traumatized to go home two weeks before. She had only intended to stay one night, to get control over her emotions, but that now, getting control seemed near to impossible. She wasn�t even sure she would ever recover.
Two weeks before, leaving the Phantom behind as she hurried off with Raoul had seemed the best and only logical thing to do. Now she was tormented by her decision. If she closed her eyes, she heard his voice, saw his hideous face, felt his fingers pulling her downward toward his lair. If she managed to fall asleep, she was tormented with dreams of him, of his heart-wrenching cries, of his begging her to return.
She could not even bring herself to enter the opera house for a moment--which had the managers in despair, for Signora Carlotta had angrily resigned her position and Christine was the only other soprano with enough training to sing the operas. And, as the managers had insisted, the opera house was suffering already. There had been a substantial decrease in patrons since Piangi�s death--quite understandable, but the managers were determined to outsmart the public and restore the opera house to its previous grandeur. They insisted they could pull together after the disaster and recover--but they insisted it would happen only if Christine would sing.
But Christine was terrified. She felt as though she was being watched every moment--as though the Phantom had followed her after she left, that he still refused to let her go. No one seemed to know what had become of her music teacher, and everyone seemed to think that should set her mind at ease. The truth was, it only scared her more. If no one had seen him, he very easily could be following her wherever she went, waiting for an opportune moment to reach out and take her again.
She shivered as she lit the lamp on the table, then hastily pulled the window curtain closed tight. Darkness was seeping into the opposite corner of the bedroom, in the space between the wall and the dresser, and she hurriedly lit a candle to place on the dresser. After spending time in the Phantom�s dark chambers, she could not stand to spend a moment in darkness.
She changed into her nightgown and crawled into bed, shivering as she pulled the blankets tight around her. The lamp and candle formed strange flickering shadows on the walls, and Christine closed her eyes against them.
His face appeared, and she opened her eyes again, trembling and willing the sight out of her mind. She shouldn�t even try to sleep--it would only make things worse. She would see his face and hear his voice, and the torture would start all over again. What she had told Raoul what seemed forever ago, she could not escape from the Phantom--and she never would. He was always there, singing songs in her head, calling her name, whispering his love.
Had she been wrong? Should she have stayed with him? Of course she had been right--she loved Raoul. It didn�t matter that the Phantom claimed to love her. Of course she didn�t love him. Raoul was he man for her; he always had been.
Why then, she wondered in misery, did she feel so heartbroken?
*****
"Mother, I�m worried about Christine," Meg said later, as she glanced at Christine�s closed bedroom door. "She had another nightmare while you were at the opera house tonight, and when I went to check on her, she�d gone to sleep with the lamp and a candle burning. It�s like she thinks he�s going to come out of the walls and grab her or something."
That would hardly surprise me, Mme. Giry mused. "Did you blow out her candle?"
"I didn�t dare!" Meg said. "I did last night, and she woke up screaming. What�s wrong with her? She knows she�s safe here."
Mme. Giry sighed. "She�s been through a lot, Meg. She needs time."
"It�s already been two weeks, and she won�t even talk about it."
"I don�t know how long it will take for her to face what happened, Meg, but we can�t push it. At least she agreed to stay here. I would worry much more if she was shut up at home by herself."
"Isn�t there anything we can do?"
"We�ll just have to wait," Mme. Giry said with a shrug. "When she�s ready to talk, she�ll talk."
*****
Christine woke the next morning after another dream. The Phantom had again been calling after her, moaning in agony and crying her name. She had seen him, huddled in darkness somewhere, weeping into his hands.
She moaned and buried her face into her pillow, willing the pictures in her mind to disappear.
A knock at the door provided a blessed interruption in her unrelenting dreams. "Who is it?" she called.
"It�s me," she heard Meg reply.
"Come in," Christine said, sitting up and straightening the blankets that were askew from her twisting and turning during the night.
Meg�s smile brightened the room considerably. "How are you this morning, Christine? Feeling any better?"
Christine sighed. "Not really. But I am glad to see you. I needed a change in thought."
"Well, I actually came to tell you that you have a visitor."
Christine�s chest constricted. "It�s not--"
"No," Meg assured her friend. "It�s the Vicomte de Chagny. He�s insisting he must see you."
"Raoul," Christine breathed in relief. "Of course I�ll see him. Tell him I�ll be out in a moment."
"All right," Meg said. "Are you sure you�re up to seeing him, Christine? You�ve been so upset lately, and..."
"I need to see him, Meg. If I don�t, I�m sure I�ll go mad. I must convince myself that I made the righ--" She caught herself before voicing her conflicting thoughts. "I mean I haven�t seen him in days. I�ve been aching to talk to him."
Meg frowned, but nodded. "I�ll tell him you�re coming," she said as she left the room.
"Thank you, Meg," Christine said, turning to the few dresses she had brought from home. She dressed quickly, anxious to see Raoul.
She found him waiting in the sitting room. He stood when she entered, and without a thought, she flew into his arms, hot tears suddenly cascading down her cheeks.
"There, there," he soothed. "Whatever is the matter, darling?"
She couldn�t speak. She just cried against him, letting her emotions rule for the first time since the two of them had left the labyrinth together two weeks before.
When her sobs finally subsided, Raoul pulled back far enough to look into her red eyes. "Well, that was quite a greeting."
"Sshhh," he said. "It�s all right. I understand. Cry all you want."
She sniffed discreetly. "Thank you. I�ve needed to cry ever since..."
"I know." He pulled her close against him again. "You�ve been through too much, Christine."
She sighed as she melted into his embrace. "I thought it would be easy to go on after all that happened, but I just...can�t."
Raoul rocked her gently. "I know."
"Raoul, I�m having the most dreadful dreams. They come every night--I can�t escape them--him."
"Him?"
"He�s in my dreams, Raoul. Crying, calling me, grabbing me... I don�t know how much longer I�ll be able to stand it. I can�t escape from him--and I�m sure I never will. It scares me, Raoul. He�s always there. Always. And he--"
"Sshhh," Raoul soothed. "Forget about him, Christine. You�re safe. He won�t find you."
"I can�t forget him," she wept. "I can�t escape. He�s always here inside my mind."
"He�s gone," Raoul insisted. "You have nothing to be afraid of."
"But I can�t help it," she whispered against his chest. "No one knows where he went. He might still be living under the opera house!"
"The mob searched that place high and low, Christine. There wasn�t a trace of him. Nothing at all. He�s not there."
"But he might have returned since then!"
"He wouldn�t dare go back to the house on the lake. Too many people know of it�s existence now. You�re safe, Christine. You�re safe here, and you would be safe at the opera house. I promise, no one will harm you."
"I can�t sing again, Raoul," she stated, before he could bring up the subject. "He might be watching from somewhere; he might come and take me away. He�s taken me off the stage before, remember?"
Raoul sighed. "Trust me, Christine. You will never see him again in your life."
She finally relaxed against him. "Will you take me away from here, Raoul? I can�t live in Paris. There will always be too many memories."
"Darling, I�ll take you anywhere in the world, but I assure you you�re safe in Paris. Even if that �Phantom� dared show his face--and he will not, Christine--I will be here for you."
She finally nodded. "I know you will. Oh Raoul, I love you."
"I love you," he whispered, tilting her chin up toward him. "You have nothing to fear."
She smiled, and he pressed a gentle kiss against her lips. "Now," he said, "I wanted you to know that I�m going to release the news of our engagement."
She stiffened. "But Raoul--"
"I told you, there�s nothing for you to be afraid of. We�re safe now."
She bit her lip and stared at him for a moment, then exhaled slowly and gave him a soft smile. "You�re right. Go ahead and tell the world that we�re engaged. I have nothing to be afraid of."
Raoul smiled and hugged her again. "Now, shall we go about setting a date for the wedding, my darling?"
"Yes, Raoul," she replied softly, as all thoughts of darkness slipped from her mind.
The two of them discussed dates, flowers, and vows for the next half hour before Raoul had to leave. He kissed her again as he went out the door, and she smiled after him, then floated in a dream back into the house to tell Madame Giry and Meg how the wedding plans were proceeding.
"Meg?" she called, glancing around for her friend. She must be in her room. Christine walked to Meg�s door, which was slightly ajar. She pushed it open and looked into the room. It was empty. Christine sighed. Where could Meg be?
She turned to leave the room, then froze as her gaze caught a flash of white atop Meg�s dressing table. It couldn�t be...
In a trance, she stepped into the room and approached the table, dread filling all her senses. Her heart pounded in disbelief as she saw her first glance had been right.
