Chapter 1: The Hit

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It was the distressed voice of her father that roused Christine from her dreamless sleep. The bedroom was still cloaked in darkness as she sat up in bed and rubbed her eyes with her fists. The overhead light flickered on and through sleepy eyes, she watched her father bound towards her wardrobe and fling it open. He reached into the back where she kept her infrequently used possessions and produced a large case. It was her traveling case.

Where were they going and why was her father so distraught? They hadn't had the need to move in years, after all, he had finally found decent work making violins for local musicians and playing in the orchestra at the Opera Populaire. And she couldn't leave Raoul. He had asked her on a chaperoned walk in the park Sunday after mass and she had accepted; she couldn't abandon the promises she had made!

"Papa, what is going on? Is everything alright?" she asked as he started haphazardly stuffing her dresses into the case. His labored breaths were coming in sharply and she could hear the rattle of his already fragile lungs. All tiredness left her and she bolted out of bed. "You aren't supposed to be doing any strenuous activity! You should be resting, just as the doctor ordered."

As she approached him, he glanced over his shoulder and she had to stop herself from backpedaling from the terror in his eyes. A sense of dread hung over her and her stomach clenched. Whatever troubled him was worse than she could imagine.

He closed the distance between them and took her pale face in his hands. "Mon ange, there is no time to explain. You must do everything that I ask of you immediately. Can you promise me that?"

Christine quickly nodded and covered his hands with her own. Her vision fogged and tears slipped down her cheeks. She glanced behind him and her eyes landed on her luggage. The reason for needing to pack her things still evaded her. Perhaps he lost his job at the opera house or–

"Are you sending me away?! You will do no such thing! You are sick. I refuse to leave you!" Christine cried as she clutched at the lapels of her father's tail coat. There would be no possibility of her willingly leaving him to fend for himself. The doctor hadn't even been gone for three days!

"Just do as I say, child!" The brashness of his voice made her flinch and she nodded again. Never in her life had her father spoken to her in such a way and it frightened her. His face softened and he trembled as he stroked her cheek. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to–we don't have time. Please, finish packing your dresses and I will explain."

"Alright, papa."

The full severity of the situation struck her and Christine wasted no time stuffing her traveling case full of her dresses, sleeping gowns, and her most sentimental possessions. As she worked faster, she waited for her father to explain but when she glanced up at him, he was sitting on the edge of her bed gasping for breath. Beads of sweat rolled down his forehead and down the tip of his nose, plopping onto the hardwood flooring. His fearful eyes rose to meet hers and she fell apart. Her knees wobbled and a knot formed in her stomach, but before she could collapse, he was on his feet and in front of her.

Her father wrapped his hands around her upper arms and held her in place. "I am sending you to stay with a business partner of mine. His name is Erik Destler. I trust him with my life, in turn, I am trusting him with yours. When I am safe, I will come find you. Until then, he will care for you. I expect you to treat him kindly and do everything he says."

Christine squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head in disbelief. How was she to live with a man she didn't know? How was she to leave her father alone when he would die without her? There had to be another way!

"You can come with me, papa. You don't have to leave me. Please, don't leave me," Christine choked through the suppressed sobs that wracked through her.

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