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Christine lay in bed; her mind racing with all sorts of questions. The Angel had not answered when Christine had called for him in the chorus room after speaking with the Madame.
Worry set in that she had displeased the master. Even if Mrs. Giry knew of him, her guardian was still very private exclusive.
She stared up at the ceiling wondering if the Angel of music would ever visit her again until she fell finally fell asleep.
A whisper in her ear awoke her. Someone's breath was warm against the soft cartilage of her ear.
It whispered her name, "Christine".
She gasped simultaneously. Without looking there was a distinct scent of orange and rosemary. Loud footsteps distanced themselves from Christine.
She covered her head; terrified to look.
All the sudden the noises were gone and it was silent again. Christine slightly uncovered her head and peered over the thin bed sheet.
Nothing.
There was nothing in the room. Christine sat up looking around to be sure. Meg and Antoinette were fast asleep. She laid back down again. Maybe she was just imagining things. Maybe stress and worry were making her delusional. But why then, was there a man with a mask standing in the corner of the doorway, staring at her with a sad smile.
