A hand came suddenly from the darkness and closed over Meg�s mouth as she screamed.
"Quiet!" a voice hissed in her ear.
Meg struggled against the dark form, trying to break free. The screams she tried to emit came out as weak protests; mere
moans against this murderer whose iron grasp kept her from moving.
"Be still!" the voice demanded. "Or would you care to suffer the same fate as your friend?"
Meg whimpered, but stopped fighting. The hand slowly left her mouth, and she gasped in terrified relief. She quickly pulled
away and backed against the wall, shivering as the dark shadow faced her.
"Why?" she managed to whisper. "Why would you do such a thing? What did Christine do to deserve this?"
His face came closer, but not close enough for her to glimpse his features in the darkness.
"My intention," he said fiercely, "is to show all of you that the Opera Ghost cannot be beaten. If you think there were
disasters two years ago�"
"Meg!" came a woman�s voice from the hallway. "Meg, where are you?"
Meg�s captor seemed almost gleeful. "It seems we have company."
Meg fought the urge to scream again as she recognized her mother�s voice in the hallway.
He laughed softly, as if sensing her fear. "Don�t worry. I have already accomplished my purpose for today." He abruptly moved
farther into the dressing room.
"You won�t get away with this!" Meg cried.
She saw his shadow turn toward her again. "You underestimate me, Miss Giry. No one can match the power of the Phantom of the
Opera."
Meg�s breath caught in her throat. It couldn�t be. "Who are you?" she demanded.
"I am the Angel of Music," came his voice slowly, taunting, growing fainter as he moved back into the shadows.
The Angel of Music. The name Christine had used the first time she told Meg of her strange teacher. No one else could know
that name, could they?
Christine�s so-called �Angel� had tricked her into marrying him, and now he had killed her. Meg�s fury rose over her fear and
she stepped into the darkness toward his voice. "You�ll pay for what you�ve done to Christine, you monster!" she screamed.
There was no answer. Meg rushed to where she had seen his shadow, but found only empty air. The man had disappeared.
*****
"Meg!" Madame Giry called again, holding her lantern in front of her as she briskly walked down the hallway.
Raoul followed anxiously behind, frustrated that Meg�s scream had interrupted his conversation with Mme. Giry. The woman had
demanded to know his suspicions, and he had reluctantly told her. Voicing his presumptions made them seem all the more real
and terrible, and he knew something had to be done. He and Mme. Giry had been trying to come up with a plan when the scream
had faintly echoed through the Opera House.
Mme. Giry had instinctively known it was her daughter, and she had rushed toward the sound. Raoul had followed, trying to
persuade himself that this search had nothing to do with Christine�but a terrible sense of foreboding had overcome him when
he heard Meg�s scream.
"Meg!" Mme. Giry called one last time. She had been sure that her daughter�s voice had come from this direction, though why
Meg would have come here was beyond her. Slowly Mme. Mme. Giry sighed and turned to the Vicomte. "Perhaps she is upstairs�her
voice may have echoed�"
"Mother!" came Meg�s sudden cry, from the darkness near the end of the hall. "Mother, is that you?"
"Meg!" Mme. Giry exclaimed.
Meg stumbled toward them. She stopped when the light crossed her face and illuminated her pale features.
"Miss Giry, you look as though you�ve seen a ghost!" Raoul exclaimed.
"Meg, what are you doing back here?" Mme. Giry asked. "What�s the matter with you?!"
"It�s Christine," the girl whispered. "She�s been murdered."
*****
The words stopped Raoul�s heart. He felt frozen, lost... as if he were drowning in a black darkness that had no end.
Meg shook her head. "She�s back there, in one of the old dressing rooms." Her voice was broken, her eyes filling with tears
as she spoke, the realization of what she said finally sinking in.
Raoul tried to overcome the despair he felt. What Meg said simply couldn�t be true. He shook his head, in disbelief. "It�s
not possible," he said, almost inaudibly; then spoke louder as he looked at Meg. "You�re wrong! You must be wrong!" He didn�t
notice that his hands were on Meg�s arms, and that he was unconsciously shaking her. "She can�t be dead!"
Meg was sobbing now, helpless against Raoul. "Monsieur, I saw her myself! She�s...all crumpled on the floor, and...and..." A
sob cut her words short.
He wouldn�t believe it. He couldn�t believe it. "Christine!" he yelled, releasing his grip on Meg and running down the
hall. "Christine, where are you?!"
Mme. Giry took Meg�s arm, and they followed after the Vicomte, who instinctively knew which room to enter. Mme. Giry brought
the lantern in after him, and heard herself gasp as she saw Christine�s body on the floor, her eyes closed and her face
white.
"No," Raoul murmured as he knelt beside Christine. "It can�t be..." His voice was hoarse. "She can�t be..."
Meg, who had only had a glimpse of Christine when she entered the room with her lantern minutes before, gasped now at her
friend and sobbed anew. "Christine!" she wailed, as her knees gave out and she collapsed onto the floor beside Christine.
Overcome, Mme. Giry simply held the lantern for Raoul, who stared helplessly at Christine�s face. "It�s all my fault," he
murmured, fury in his voice. "I never should have let that monster live!"
A moan escaped Christine�s lips and all three stared down at the supposed-dead woman. Raoul suddenly realized that
Christine�s chest rose and fell, slowly and with much effort. A strangled cry, a mix of pain and joy came from his lips.
"She�s alive?" Meg whispered.
Mme. Giry released a heavy sigh, full of relief. "Thank God, she�s all right."
"Alive, but hardly all right," Raoul said, the relief in his voice masked by his fury.
"We must move her away from here."
Raoul had already lifted Christine into his arms. "Someone should go for the doctor."
"Meg," Mme. Giry said automatically, "go and send for a doctor, quickly!"
Meg seemed reluctant to leave Christine, but she obeyed her mother�s request and hurried from the room.
Where can I put Christine?" Raoul asked.
"Her dressing room," Mme. Giry said. "Bring her and I�ll�"
"No." Raoul interrupted firmly. "Not her dressing room. He has access to her there."
Mme. Giry stared at Raoul, shocked at what he implied. "He is not responsible for this."
"Do you have proof otherwise?"
"He would never�"
"I�m not putting her in her dressing room. Where else can I take her?"
Mme. Giry sighed. "Follow me."
They left the dressing room and hurried back up the hallway. Backstage was as dark as the outer halls, but Mme. Giry
navigated her way expertly around the sets and scenery that rested against the walls. She led Raoul through the corridors,
not speaking. The lantern alone revealed their presence.
It seemed an eternity to Raoul, who held Christine protectively against him as they went. He had never felt more helpless
than he did at that moment. Guilt assailed him as he carried Christine, the only woman he had ever loved. He would have given
anything�everything, even his life, for her. She had asked him for the freedom to make her own choice two years
before, and though his heart had been crushed, he had loved her enough to let her go.
He had never regretted giving Christine the desires of her heart until now. He had been hurt beyond words when she chose
Erik�the "Phantom"�over him. He had tried to persuade her to stay with him�had warned her that something terrible would
happen if she chose her "Angel". But she refused to listen. She insisted that she loved the faceless monster, and Raoul had
let her go, loving her still, in spite of her rejection.
He hadn�t been able to bear the knowledge that his Christine was married to the man he�d hated and tried to kill; couldn�t
bear knowing that the two of them lived somewhere in the city together; that he possibly walked the same streets Christine
did. Every time he stepped out his door, he found himself searching for her, longing for her... It threatened to drive him
insane, and finally he decided to leave the country�to go on a voyage to an uncertain place, to search for a ship that had
probably sunk months before. It was a hopeless mission, but everything in his life seemed to have been reduced to
hopelessness, so it made no difference.
Mme. Giry stopped suddenly as they came to a row of dressing rooms in a backstage hallway. "Come in here," she said, opening
the door and stepping inside. Mme. Giry knew the Opera House well. The room was empty save for a bed in one corner. "Put her
there," she said, indicating the bed. "I�ll go see if Meg�s found a doctor."
"Hurry," Raoul murmured unnecessarily as he gently laid Christine on the bed. Mme. Giry turned the wick of the lamp on the
wall and a soft light filled the room, casting a glow upon Christine�s pale face.
Raoul sat at Christine�s side and lifted her hand from her near-motionless chest, caressing her cold fingers softly as he had
not done for over two years. He would never forgive himself for this. He had known it would happen�it had been inevitable. He
just hadn�t realized that it would be this soon, nor that it would be caused by someone so close to her. Had his search been
in vain? Yes, he had found answers, but now they seemed to be wrong. The conclusions he had reached before now vanished. Only
one person could be responsible for this. Raoul despised himself for drawing the wrong conclusions, for leaving Christine�s
side, for allowing this to happen. He had stayed behind to warn her, and what had he accomplished? She was close to death!
What if Meg Giry hadn�t stumbled upon her in that dressing room? What else would have befallen her? Angrily he stood, his
balled fist connecting with the wall as an outlet of his fury. Why hadn�t he protected her?!
He had been three hours from departing on the Requin expedition when he was notified of the plot against Christine and
her husband. He wouldn�t have cared if the scheme had only meant to harm Erik, but when he heard Christine�s name, he had
taken his bags from the ship and immediately begun the search to find who was plotting against the only woman he could ever
love.
He had spent two anxious weeks searching for clues of any kind, and as soon as he had put together enough evidence to prove
that someone indeed was trying to find Christine, he knew he must contact her.
It had been nearly impossible to get in the Opera House that morning only two days before. The place had been swarming with
people who anticipated that night�s performance. Only once Raoul shoved his way inside and demanded admittance to the
manager�s office did he discover that the real reason for the chaos was that Christine was returning to the Opera.
The managers were hesitant to reveal any information, until they were reminded of the amount of Raoul�s patronage. Raoul was
astonished to learn that Christine and her husband lived under the Opera House. The place had been ransacked by the mob who
swarmed it after the performance of Don Juan Triumphant, hadn�t it?
He demanded that the managers let him see Christine, but they said they had no control over what the prima donna did. Firmin
had seen the look in Raoul�s eyes and ordered him to go nowhere near the lair, under any circumstances. There were too many
people about, he said; too many things at stake on this night. Raoul told them it was a life or death situation, and they
offered him a seat in their box that night, promising to try to get him an audience with Christine after the opera. He
conceded, and spent the rest of the day fitfully trying to decide how to approach the subject with Christine.
He arrived at the Opera House early and went toward Christine�s dressing room, but Madame Giry was outside in the hall,
almost as if she was standing guard. She refused to let him in, telling him in a heated whisper that Christine was not
available then.
"After the performance, then?" he asked, growing desperate and hardly believing the managers.
Mme. Giry shook her head. "Likely not."
He had accepted defeat once more and gone to the box to watch the opera. Christine was magnificent, far more a triumph than
she had ever been. Her voice had improved even more since the last time he�d heard her sing�the effect of living with her
music teacher for the past two years? Raoul would have rather heard her croaking if it meant she was his wife instead.
At intermission, he hoped to again try to meet her, but Firmin and Andr� insisted that she would only be available for a
short time after the performance. Frustrated, Raoul went outside, thinking the cold air would calm him. The flower merchants
on the street had caught his attention, and he had purchased a single red rose for Christine. Whether he dared give it to her
or not, given her jealousy-prone husband, he didn�t know, but at least he now had another excuse to see her.
Christine had been extraordinary in the second act, until she looked up during the final minute of the opera and saw him.
Their eyes locked, and something came over her, what it was he couldn�t tell�but it almost seemed to be terror. Why would she
be afraid of him?
He made a quick decision as the curtain fell. He pulled the rose from his pocket, picked up his program and carried on until
Andr� found him a pencil. He scribbled his frantic message on a page from the program, then rolled it up and shoved it down
inside the center of the rose. When Christine finally reappeared at the curtain call, he waited until he caught her eye and
tossed the rose toward her, amazed at the good luck he had when it landed directly at her feet. "Christine," he whispered.
She had torn her gaze from him, backed away upstage. The curtain had closed before he could see if she picked up his rose.
He�d shoved his way to her dressing room and been fortunate enough to have her come to the door. She had been so terrified
then�he remembered now that she had been afraid that Erik would find them together.
Raoul gritted his teeth in fury. Christine had been terrified of Erik. Now he realized that every time he had seen her these
past two days, she had been afraid whenever her husband�s name had been mentioned. Raoul had been right all along�it had been
a trick. Erik�s begging for her love, pretending to be heartbroken when she left... It had all been a ploy, meant to force
Christine to choose him. Raoul had seen it, but Christine had been blinded by what she thought was love. Now she must realize
what a mistake she had made, but her husband held her hostage. Raoul�s anger flared again, and all he wanted was to find Erik
and murder him.
But he dared not leave Christine�s side. The Phantom could be waiting in the shadows to finish his task. Why would a man seek
to murder his wife?
"Well, he won�t have you, Christine," he said under his breath. "I�ll kill him before he gets near you, and I�ll rescue you
from this terror in which you live."
*****
Mme. Giry hurried toward the manager�s office, where she assumed Meg must have gone. The Opera House was buzzing with
activity, more than usual. Several nervous ballet girls approached and made complaints to her about some problem with the
choreography; and half a dozen chorus members asked if she�d seen Reyer, their director. She brushed past them all, annoyed
that she was the one they all came to for advice. Finally she reached the office.
"What?!" came a thundering voice from inside as she reached for the door handle. "What do you mean, she�s been�"
"Quiet, Andr�!" came another voice. "There are other people in this building besides us!"
This was followed by quieter speaking, and Mme. Giry pushed the door open.
"This is a private office!" Andr� bellowed as she came in.
This did not bother Mme. Giry. "Has a doctor been called yet?"
Meg sighed in exasperation. "I told them Christine needs a doctor, Mother, but they were too busy yelling to�"
Andre�s glare caused Meg�s words to abruptly cease.
"I was just going to summon a doctor," Firmin said dryly, then barked at his companion, "Send someone for the doctor, Andr�!"
"Mother," Meg whimpered, as she moved close to Mme. Giry, "it was the Phantom. I saw him, Mother, he�"
"Hush!" Mme. Giry scolded, giving her daughter a scalding look. "I won�t hear another word of that!"
"How is Miss Daa�?" Firmin demanded.
"We�re not sure yet," Mme. Giry said.
"I want to know who is responsible for this!" Firmin raged, as Andr� leaned out the window and sent some boy who stood on the
sidewalk for a doctor. Firmin scowled. "As if we haven�t had enough tragedies in the history of our management, someone has
to add this! We�ve had men killed�"
"Chandeliers dropped from the ceiling�" Andr� added.
"A prima donna turned into a toad�"
"Unrest for almost the entire first year of our management�"
"Ridiculously high �salaries� demanded�"
"Enough gossip to fill dozens of volumes�"
"Demands that we perform that ghastly opera Don Juan Triumphant�"
"I daresay we would win the prize for the most tried opera house managers in history," Andr� said sardonically. "Sure, the
others might have their trials, but at least they haven�t had to deal with mysterious opera ghosts roaming the halls at will,
sending threatening notes, and committing nearly all of the rest of the problems around here!"
A look of disbelief came to Firmin�s face, but it was quickly replaced with one of angry certainty. "You�re quite right,
Andr�," he bit out. "No one but us has to deal with the Opera Ghost."
Andr�s jaw dropped. "You don�t think?"
"Of course I do! Who else would do such a thing?"
"I can�t believe we�ve been so blind! Where is the monster? We�ll�"
"Gentlemen!" Mme. Giry interrupted, growing enraged herself. "Why would he do such a thing? Why try to kill his own wife?"
But the managers weren�t listening to anyone but themselves. They hardly concealed their words as they discussed their plans
to capture the �ghost� once and for all.
*****
Raoul impatiently stood against the door with his arms crossed across his chest, waiting as the doctor examined Christine
inside the small dressing room. He had refused to leave her side, until Mme. Giry practically shoved him out the door.
Christine had not stirred in the half hour he had waited with her for the doctor. Her face was still deadly pale, her skin
still cold to the touch. It was driving him mad, waiting here where he could do nothing. He should have stayed in the room.
After what seemed to be an eternity, the door opened and he was admitted again. The managers followed close on his heels.
"How is she?" he demanded, dismayed at the sight of tears on Meg�s face.
"She has a serious concussion," the doctor said. "It appears it was caused by a blow to the head. I�m not sure precisely how
serious it is�but I do know that the longer she is unconscious, the worse her chances are."
"Is that all?" Raoul said in incredulity. "That�s all you can say?"
"There is one more thing..." the doctor hesitated.
"What is it?" Raoul demanded.
"A mark about her neck. It appears to be caused by a rope, or�"
Raoul stepped to Christine�s side and pulled her high collar down far enough to see the angry red line that circled her neck.
"Or a Punjab lasso," he said bitterly. "When will she awaken, Doctor?"
"I�m afraid I can�t tell you that. These cases are all different, you see, and�"
"Enough!" Raoul barked. "You�ve done your part, then. Send me your bill. Just leave!"
The doctor huffed and exited the room.
"He won�t get away with this," Raoul fumed. "I�ll make him pay for what he did."
"The doctor?" Meg asked, confused.
"NO!" Raoul shouted. "The monster who did this to her!
"Monsieur," Mme. Giry cautioned under her breath, "you have no right to accuse�"
"Who else would do this?"
"Have you forgotten everything you told me not an hour ago? You know who is responsible for this, and it is not Erik!"
"Who else has a motive? Who was furious at his wife two hours ago? Who else would use a Punjab lasso?!"
Mme. Giry glanced at Firmin and Andr�, who were absorbing every word of the conversation.
"Monsieur de Chagny," Mme. Giry said furtively, "you must think before you�"
The cold hate in his voice stopped her. "He will pay for what he did. I will not stand by helplessly as he tries to murder
the woman I still love."
A sense of fear came over Mme. Giry as Raoul stormed from the room. This time, the Vicomte really was angry enough to murder
someone... He would seek Erik until he found him. Mme. Giry couldn�t allow him to succeed. If he did, it would break
Christine�s heart.
"Mother," Meg said hesitantly, as Andr� and Firmin broke from their silence to rant about the unfairness of their management
history. Madame Giry stared into space, as though she was disconnected from everything going on around her. "Mother?" Meg
tried again.
"What is it?" Mme. Giry asked, weariness evident in her voice.
"I...I saw the man who hurt Christine, Mother. He was still in the dressing room." Meg shuddered as she remembered the
feeling of his cold hand on her face. "Mother, it was the Phantom of the�"
"Meg Giry!" her mother snapped. "Don't you dare make up ridiculous tales at a time like this."
"It's the truth!"
"Stop it this instant. No matter what the Vicomte de Chagny or the managers say, Erik is not responsible for this. And I will
have none of your foolish notions about a ghost."
"But Mother!" Meg protested.
"Hush!" Madame Giry said. "I don't want to hear you say the word phantom again, young lady. You are to see that
Christine gets to our house�and I want you to stay with her. Don't let anyone but the doctor in the house. Do you understand
me?"
"Yes, Mother," Meg sighed. She went to stand beside her friend as the managers bickered loudly about Christine, the Phantom,
that night�s opera which now had no star, and most of all, what the newspapers would say when they found out about this mess.
Mme. Giry slipped from the room unnoticed and hurried silently down the hall. She knew these passages better than all but one
person, the one that Raoul searched for, the one that she must find.
