To Outwit an Angel

13. Rooftopping

Loretta's POV:

Chaos. Absolute chaos. A man's body had plummeted to the floor. Screams had erupted through the whole theater, and even now, they echoed in my ears. Nobody had come to rescue me, despite the corpse just inches away. Sharlene had even fled the scene entirely. But I was frozen in place, my face like a deer in the headlights, sitting right atop the stage. 

 The Phantom was quiet now. But he wasn't dead. That much was certain, or how else would he speak to a whole theater beyond the grave? Despite what I'd affirmed to Sharlene—the fact that I definitely wanted him dead—relief flooded me now. It was cruel to kill him so mercilessly, dumping a corrosive acid down his windpipe. Just because I was terrified of him. Isn't that how the rest of the world treated him too? Fear that erupted into unnecessary violence?

 So I was glad to hear his voice again, to know he hadn't died, despite the havoc he wrecked now. He was silent now, like he was really dead. Perhaps what little voice he had left was lost after this stunt. Where was I meant to go? How could I evade the Phantom? He'd kill me. He knew Sharlene and I were responsible for the acid, so why shouldn't he attack us? What escape route existed? Think, Lori, just calm down and think.

 The antithesis to the basement, to the Phantom's lair, was... the roof. Was there a way up there? I couldn't say, but as if possessed, I darted off the stage and mindlessly trotted down hallways, hoping for an escape to miraculously appear.

 And there it was, my freedom in an unused hallway. An industrial staircase, spiraling up toward the ceiling, would lead me farther from the Phantom's lair. Maybe not the roof, but enough to console me.

 Footsteps stomped around the corner, and my heart leapt into my throat. The Phantom! Or maybe...?

 No, I wouldn't even consider the possibility. I didn't want to speak with Raoul anyway. But, in the soundtrack, he and Christine sang "All I ask of You" at this point. Gross.

 No, they probably sang it in her dressing room or outside the opera or something. I couldn't exactly tell by listening to the soundtrack, but I doubted it was the roof. That was too random, so I would be safe from both scary phantoms and rich assholes up there. Before the intruder could spy me nearby, I fled up the staircase, unlocked the hatch in the roof, and pulled myself through.

 The frigid air chilled my lungs and nipped at my skin. But it was quiet. And it was peaceful. In fact, the view was rather pretty. I glimpsed the skyline of Paris and the few stars bright and brave enough to shine amidst all the light pollution. If I closed my eyes, I could just imagine home.

 Sitting on the front porch, cold wind still biting my cheeks, waiting on Sharlene to come over after school. Meeting Mom on the porch after her work. Pushing Jinjer on the run-down swings in our trailer park. No matter the freezing temperatures, she would giggle and ask me to push her higher.

 Something warm heated a small sliver of my cheek, and stunned, my eyes opened. A lone tear traced down my cheek and plopped off the edge of my chin. Homesickness ached in the deepest part of my core. My mom and I had our struggles, sure. She didn't know a boundary when it smacked her in the face, yet deep down, somewhere, I loved her. Or at one point I had. Because every time something went wrong or I felt immature and stupid, like when the Phantom threatened me and I stood there like an idiot, I missed my mom. And I certainly adored Jinjer, even if little sisters could be the bane of my existence sometimes. For all its flaws, that was home, and until now, I hadn't paused to realize how much I missed it.

 I closed my eyes again, letting the tears seep through my shut eyelids.

 The hatch opened, and my eyelids jolted up for the second time. I whirled around to face the opening of the roof, only to find a blond head of hair peeking out, which extended into an entire man.