𝔒𝔭𝔢𝔫 𝔘𝔭 𝔜𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔐𝔦𝔫𝔡 {ON HOLD}

Chapter X

~Mary~

I come to slowly, the early morning light seeping through the circular window panes. I smile, for once satisfied with a good rest.

Looking over to my right, I notice my blue wax stick laying out of its box. Memory of last night jars into my mind. The letter!

I leap out of bed and rush to the painting outside the dorm, my feet patting lightly against the concrete floor. I hastily flip the latch and pull the painting open, and see a letter with black trim and a crimson skull wax seal. Just like the one Madame Giry picked up from before, I observe.

I glance around the corridor before I take the letter, sprinting up the stairs in my satin periwinkle nightgown. Still far too early for anyone to be up and working.

I reach the private box corridor, slowing when I reach box five. I sit down and lean back in the seat, going to pop the seal off. My heart pounds with excitement, but my blood runs cold with anxiety. What did the Opera Ghost say to my minor threat, I wonder?

I slip my thumb underneath the letter's flap, and pop it free from the wax seal effortlessly. Inside, there is his letter. I swallow down the rising lump in my throat, and pull out the letter.

I drop the envelope onto my lap and carefully unfold the Opera Ghost's letter, reading it closely.

Mademoiselle Mary Daaé,
          It is foolishly brave of you to make such an empty threat towards me. However, I understand your reasoning behind your intentions. I shall have you know that Miss Christine is very safe. I promise you that she is in good hands. I am assuming you are the wandering girl who willingly finds herself on my stage, correct?
          Furthermore, I rather hadn't taken in the fact that Christine has a sister, but perhaps I shall keep in touch. If it is worth my time. I might as well ask of you your role in the operas, before I give any further details of myself and my work.
          Also, do refrain from sitting in my private box.
                                        Signed, O.G.

I reread the letter a couple times, scowling at it. I am not shocked that he seems so cold and distant, but not this harsh and indifferent. I will write to him again, still wanting to ensure that Christine is safe. And to know who this Phantom is to her.

If telling this ghostly man about myself will provide me with truths of my sister's safety then so be it.

As I am striding down the stairs to return to the dorms, I peer out of the window. Monsieur Firmin's carriage stop outside of the opera house. At first I decided that he is merely just arriving for work, but when he exits, I notice a rather strong urgency in his stride. Feeling compelled to see what has him quite rattled, I let curiosity lead me to the second floor of the foyer, watching from behind a pillar.

As soon as the entrance doors swing to a close, he immediately begins to rant.

"'Mystery After Gala Night,' it says, 'Mystery of Soprano's Flight!'" Firmin mutters aloud, handing his cane and a newspaper to two doormen. He then takes off his ivory-colored satin top hat and shrugs off his coat, continuing, "'Mystified,' the papers say. 'We are mystified—we suspect foul play!'"

I furrow my brow at the words he states. Is that really what the news is talking about? He takes stride up to the marble stairs, bounding up two steps at a time, and nonchalantly reciting the headlines of today's news. "'Bad News on Soprano Scene—First Carlotta, Now Christine!' Still, at least the seats get sold, for gossip's worth its weight in gold..."