A/N: I own absolutely nothing. If I did, I wouldn't have to spend the rest of my life paying off school loans. I love hearing what people think, so please review!

Christine de Chagny tip-toed across the floor to the wooden rocking chair near the window of the nursery. In it sat her husband Raoul, holding their infant son. Christine was unsure whether it was he who produced the light snoring or the baby. It was a serenely peaceful scene, the two of them asleep. Christine walked to the white bassinet and removed the soft blue blanket that lay inside. She held it up to her face, inhaling the sweet scent of her son, Christophe. When she and Raoul were married, Christine couldn't imagine loving anyone else as much as she loved him. But when their baby was born, all that changed. Christine discovered that the love she had in her heart wasn't finite; there wasn't a permanent amount that had to be divided among those close to her. Perhaps that's why, despite all the people she loved in her life, she still reserved a small corner of her heart for Erik. Christine chastised herself for thinking about that name. Whenever he came into her mind, Christine felt like she was somehow betraying Raoul. He had risked his life to rescue her, and here she was, thinking about the man who had put them all in danger.

Christine walked to her husband and son and covered them with the blanket. She wrapped her shawl tightly around her and looked around the room. Christine had insisted that the room be painted to resemble the house by the sea where she and Raoul had spent their childhood. Her favorite part was a long red scarf that floated on the invisible, unmoving wind of the wall. Christine had often walked through the room holding Christophe, telling him the story of his parents' past together and how they fell in love. She smiled knowing that it would always be there, a constant reminder. Christine leaned down and placed a light kiss on Raoul's cheek, causing him to stir from his sleep.

"It's a beautiful night. I thought I might go for a walk in the moonlight," she whispered into his ear.

"Alright darling," he replied, half asleep.

Christine giggled quietly. "I shall be back soon. Go back to sleep."

"I love you," he said as she walked away.

Christine stopped in the doorway and turned to look back on her sleeping family, "I love you too."

As Christine approached the front hallway, she was startled by the footsteps that she heard on the staircase behind her.

"I'm sorry Madame. I didn't mean to frighten you."

"It's alright Henriette. I guess I'm just a little on edge," she laughed nervously.

"If you don't require anything else, Madame, I'll be retiring for the night."

"No, that's fine," Christine answered, wrapping her cloak around her shoulders. "Oh, and Henriette," she called down the hallway.

"Yes, Madame?"

"I've asked you a thousand times- call me Christine."

"As you wish…Christine," she relied, smiling shyly.

Christine would never be completely accustomed to the life of an aristocrat. The servants were always complaining that Christine wouldn't let them do their job; she insisted on doing everything for herself. Raoul had tried to convince her once that she needn't worry about doing her own chores anymore, but Christine wouldn't hear of it. He gave up immediately, knowing that he could never deny his wife anything.

Christine walked out the front door and began along her familiar path. She often walked by herself to be alone with her thoughts and clear her head. She had willingly given up her career at the Opera Populaire after she married Raoul. Even though he supported her, Christine knew it would break his heart for her to go back to the place where he had suffered so much for her. The pain of the memories would be almost too much for him. But Christine still sang; she could never give that up. She would sing whenever she and Raoul had dinner guests or to put their son to bed. Sometimes late at night, Raoul would ask her to sing the songs they had sung as children.

For the second time that night, Erik wandered into Christine's mind. She couldn't understand why, even now, she was helpless against him. His voice still echoed in her mind, no matter how hard she tried to block it out. Christine felt the hot tears form in her eyes. The memory of the last time she had seen him was forever burned into her mind. Her Angel of Music, dejectedly accepting a life of loneliness, a life without love. Deep down inside, though she would never admit it even to herself, Christine sometimes wondered if she had made the right decision. She loved Raoul with all her soul; there was no doubt of it. And she was truly happy in her life with him. But there were nights when she lay awake in bed, and pangs of guilt would take hold of her heart. Did she really deserve to be so happy when she had destroyed Erik's soul? She felt selfish for turning her back on him after all he had done for her. But it was he who had let her go; sent her away with Raoul. She would always be grateful to him for giving her a chance at life in the brilliant light of day.

Christine had been so lost in thought that she didn't hear the footsteps that approached behind her. A hand grabbed her shoulder and turned her around roughly. Standing before her was a young man who couldn't have been more than 17 years old. He wore shabby clothes that hung loosely off his body, obviously not made for him.

"Good evening Mademoiselle," he grinned, revealing yellow, rotted teeth. "What's a pretty little thing like you doing out all alone?"

"I…I'm not alone. My husband is on his way right now. We're just going out for a walk," Christine replied, trying to conceal her fear.

"Oh really? Well perhaps I could accompany you until he arrives."

"That's very kind, but I'm quite alright. Thank you anyways," Christine said hastily as she began to walk away.

"Then I'll just be taking any valuables you have and be on my way."

Christine started to run, but the thief was much too quick. He easily caught up with her, putting a knife to her throat. "Don't make this any more difficult than it has to be."

Christine knew that no amount of money was worth her life. She handed over all the francs she had with her.

"The jewelry too. Quickly!" he yelled, looking around nervously.

Christine reached behind her neck and unclasped her necklace. He took it from her hand forcefully.

"And the ring."

Christine looked down at her hand. She couldn't give him that! The engagement ring Raoul had given her was a large pink diamond with two smaller square-cut diamonds on either side. But more importantly than what it was worth, it was a symbol of the love and commitment that she and Raoul shared. It meant the world to her.

"Please, monsieur. Not this. It's my engagement ring. I…I can't bear to part with it," Christine pleaded.

"I don't have time for this! Give it to me!" he yelled, rushing forward.

He grabbed Christine from behind, grasping at the ring on her hand. Christine struggled violently, kicking and screaming. When the man took hold of her wrist, Christine bent her head down and bit his hand as hard as she could. He immediately let go, bringing his sore hand to his mouth. Christine tried to run away, but he caught hold of her dress. Christine fell to the ground and hit her head on the hard cobbled road. In the distance she heard yelling as the world faded to black.