The Beauty Underneath ● The Phantom of the Opera

Chapter 18

◌The Soprano◌

"Maurice. How was the performance, sweetheart?" I asked my son as he made his way into the living room, where I sat bundled up on the lavish sofa. He gave me a peck on the cheek.

"Like usual." A young woman, who looked a little younger than Maurice and Melodie, stood awkwardly near the far wall. Her bright red hair was pinned up in a winding knot above her head. She was beautiful...and familiar. Something about her nose and the tilt of her eyes. 

"Aren't you going to introduce me?" The girl's blush was almost as red as her hair as she rushed over.

"This is Odette..." They both looked at each other, unsure. The girl, Odette, knelt down next to me, worry clear in her eyes.

"I'm Odette De Chagny." My breath caught in my throat. "Raoul--my father--sent me here to give you this. He would have come himself but...he's not doing so well." She held up an envelope, a purple seal with the De Chagny crest flashing in the firelight. I shakily took it from her. But I couldn't bring myself to open it.

"You--you look just like him, you know." This brought a bright smile to her face. "Maurice, how about you take the young lady and make some tea." My youngest son nodded, grabbing Odette's hand and leading her to the kitchen.

I ran a shaky finger over the seal. What would he have to say? It had been twenty years since I had seen him last. Twenty years since I had to make that final, life-changing choice. I know Gustave had been to see him since, but I could never bring myself to face him again. I knew I was probably the last person he would wish to see. I opened the letter, knowing if I waited any longer it would go unread.

𝑀𝓎 𝒹𝑒𝒶𝓇𝑒𝓈𝓉 𝒞𝒽𝓇𝒾𝓈𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑒, 

                     𝐼𝓃 𝓂𝓎 𝒹𝓎𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒹𝒶𝓎𝓈, 𝐼 𝒻𝒾𝓃𝒹 𝐼 𝒸𝒶𝓃' 𝓉 𝓈𝒽𝒶𝓀𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒻𝓇𝑜𝓂 𝓂𝓎 𝓂𝒾𝓃𝒹. 𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒹𝒶𝓎 𝐼 𝓁𝑒𝒻𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓌𝒶𝓈 𝓃𝑜𝓉 𝑜𝓃𝓁𝓎 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒹𝒶𝓎 𝐼 𝓁𝑜𝓈𝓉 𝓂𝓎 𝓌𝒾𝒻𝑒, 𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒹𝒶𝓎 𝐼 𝓁𝑜𝓈𝓉 𝓂𝓎 𝒹𝑒𝒶𝓇𝑒𝓈𝓉 𝒻𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓃𝒹. 𝐿𝒾𝓉𝓉𝓁𝑒 𝐿𝑜𝓉𝓉𝑒, 𝑜𝒽 𝒽𝑜𝓌 𝐼 𝓂𝒾𝓈𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓈𝑒 𝓅𝒾𝒸𝓃𝒾𝒸𝓈 𝒾𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒶𝓉𝓉𝒾𝒸. 𝑀𝒶𝓎𝒷𝑒 𝓌𝑒 𝓌𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝓃𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇 𝓂𝑒𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝓉𝑜 𝒷𝑒, 𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝐼 𝓀𝓃𝑜𝓌, 𝒻𝒶𝓉𝑒𝓈 𝒷𝑒 𝒹𝒶𝓂𝓃𝑒𝒹, 𝓌𝑒 𝓌𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝓂𝑒𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝓉𝑜 𝒷𝑒 𝒷𝑒𝓈𝓉 𝒻𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓃𝒹𝓈. 𝒯𝒽𝑜𝓊𝑔𝒽 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓁𝒶𝓈𝓉 𝒻𝑒𝓌 𝓎𝑒𝒶𝓇𝓈 𝓌𝑒 𝒽𝒶𝒹 𝓉𝑜𝑔𝑒𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝓌𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝓇𝑜𝓉𝓉𝑒𝓃, 𝐼 𝓌𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹𝓃'𝓉 𝓉𝓇𝒶𝒹𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓂 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓌𝑜𝓇𝓁𝒹. 𝐼 𝓂𝑒𝒶𝓃 𝒾𝓉 𝓌𝒽𝑒𝓃 𝐼 𝓈𝒶𝓎 𝐼'𝓂 𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓅𝓎 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓎𝑜𝓊. 𝒢𝓊𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝒽𝒶𝓈 𝓉𝑜𝓁𝒹 𝓂𝑒 𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝒶𝒷𝑜𝓊𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓃𝑒𝓌 𝓁𝒾𝒻𝑒 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓉𝓌𝒾𝓃𝓈. 𝐼'𝓂 𝒿𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝓈𝑜𝓇𝓇𝓎 𝐼 𝓌𝑜𝓃'𝓉 𝒷𝑒 𝒶𝒷𝓁𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝓂𝑒𝑒𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓂 𝒾𝓃 𝓅𝑒𝓇𝓈𝑜𝓃. 𝒪𝓇 𝓈𝑒𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝓁𝒶𝓈𝓉 𝓉𝒾𝓂𝑒. 𝐵𝓊𝓉 𝓀𝓃𝑜𝓌 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈, 𝒞𝒽𝓇𝒾𝓈𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑒, 𝐼 𝓌𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝓃𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇 𝒽𝑒𝓈𝒾𝓉𝒶𝓉𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝒹𝑜 𝒶𝓃𝓎𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓎𝑜𝓊, 𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓃 𝒾𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓂𝑒𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝓅𝓁𝓊𝓃𝑔𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒾𝓃𝓉𝑜 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓈𝑒𝒶 𝓉𝑜 𝒻𝑒𝓉𝒸𝒽 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓇𝑒𝒹 𝓈𝒸𝒶𝓇𝒻. 

 𝐼𝓃 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒻𝒶𝓇𝑒𝓌𝑒𝓁𝓁, 

 𝑅𝒶𝑜𝓊𝓁