Erik couldn’t believe it. That girl, the young dancer, had the most incredible voice he had ever heard. It was like purest crystal, finer than a spider’s thread and clearer than the smoothest lake. But the poor, poor thing had no idea how to use it!
He was in a complete daze, but managed to get…
Christine needed an escape. Rehearsals were still underway for most of the company, but she could not stay on that stage a minute longer. An old, unfulfilled promise began to plague her mind once more, drawing her away from what she needed to focus on. But where could she go to be alone in order clear her troubled mind?
The roof. No one would bother her there.
Silently, Christine crept away from her fellow dancers, made her way up the seemingly endless staircase, and walked out onto the roof of the opera house. She welcomed the sun’s heat against her flushed cheeks, but even its warmth could bring her little comfort. Thinking herself to be alone, Christine fell to her knees as tears began to stream from her eyes.
“Father,” she cried breathlessly. “You promised! You promised me you would send me the Angel of Music. It has been years, and I still have yet to hear him! Does he even exist, or was he just another one of your stories? I don’t think I can wait for him much longer. Father, you promised me…”
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