The doors of the old Opera Popular opened. A gentle wind blew the layers of dust and cobwebs that had been sitting still for years. "Now, the opera house hasn't been touched for years. Or at least we thought so." The old real estate man said with a cheery laugh, his voice thick with accent. "Now please follow me, my dear," he said as he placed a hand upon Samantha's shoulder. The old opera house was still so very beautiful. It's old elegance of this place hidden beneath its years of aging.

Samantha followed the man up the set of stairs. "Now, the old Diva's suite has been turned into a bedroom. It is actually quite spacious." He said as he opened the door, revealing the room. Samantha's eyes seemed to smile, but only slightly. She walked over to a large item that was covered by a large white sheet. She removed it, bringing up a layer of dust, only to reveal a beautiful mirror. Using her sleeve she cleaned off part of the glass, allowing herself to see her reflection.

Her eyes saddened when her eyes met those of her reflection. She looked into the saddened eyes and sighed.

"Madam?"

She turned to look at the agent. "I am fine." She said softly. "Shall we continue?" he offered. Samantha nodded and took his outstretched arm as they left the room, shutting the door behind them. Leaving the mirror uncovered, the sheet tossed upon the floor.

Samantha followed the old French agent around the Opera house. Observing the ballet dormitories, the old costume rooms, and even the backstage area. But she couldn't shake the feeling that she was being watched.

"Now, my dear," he stopped when he saw her looking around. "Madam?"

She looked at him. "I'm sorry. Please continue."

He smiled at her. "Like all the others you are captured by the beauty of this place. Yet you are the only one who wants to buy it. Why?"

The sad look came back to her eyes as she rubbed her neck, flinching slightly. "I…I can't go back to San Francisco."

A shadowy figure passed by in the balcony above, the Frenchman noticed, but Samantha did not. He smiled. "I think you shall be safe here, my dear lady." He said as he hugged her shoulders with his hands. "Now I shall bring the paperwork tomorrow."

He said as he handed her the keys. She looked at him, confused. "You mean I have the place just like that? Before everything is finished?"

He chuckled "It's an Opera house, not a car. What are you going to do, steal it?"

Samantha laughed along with him. "Thank you Monsieur, for everything."

He smiled and placed a kiss upon her hand. "You are quite welcome, my dear. I trust that you will enjoy your new life in Paris." he said.

Samantha sighed as she was left alone in the old Opera house. She picked up her bags from their place beside the floor and headed up to the old Diva's Suite.

Carefully, she opened the door and saw that the mirror was still uncovered. She smiled at the mirror as she set down her things. "Hello, you." She said to the mirror as though it was an old friend. "Well, might as well clean the rest of you since we already have one clean spot." She pulled out a bandana and began to carefully clean the glass.

"There we are," she said softly. "Good as new."

She stopped as she eyed part of a bruise upon her neck. She had to gulp back tears, but a few managed to escape. Then suddenly she was filled with that feeling of being watched again. She heard a thump from outside her door and went to answer it. There on the floor was a parchment envelope; she picked it up, feeling the smoothness beneath her fingers. Carefully, she opened the wax seal and pulled out the letter.

Dear Madam,

I am pleased that a lady as kind as you were the one to buy this old place, a place that I happen to love very dearly. I trust that you will enjoy your stay here at the Opera Popular. Please know that you will be more than safe here. No harm shall come to you, I will make certain of that.

Sincerely,

OG

She looked around to see who could have sent her the note, but there was no one in sight. Not even a sound. She was alone. She closed the door and set the letter down upon the small vanity. She didn't know who OG could possibly be, but he seemed to be happy of her staying here. Samantha removed the sheet, covering the small bed, and then collapsed upon it.

"Home." She said softly as a few tears fell from her eyes.

Behind the mirror, Erik watched the woman; he had seen the look in her eyes when she was cleaning the mirror. What made her so sad, and why could she not return home? He placed his hand upon the mirror as he watched her; She lay upon the bed with tears in her eyes. Erik felt a pressure in his chest as he watched her cry. Why?

Morning came.

The Persian sun lit up the sky with its radiance, changing the darkened blues to an array of pinks and yellows and reds. Samantha's eyes slowly fluttered open as she inhaled the crisp morning air. A humorous smile formed on her face when she realized that she had fallen in her sleep in her clothes.

She sat up and stretched before she pulled out a fresh pair of clothes and made her way to the bathroom. With the turn of the knob, water began flowing into the claw foot bathtub. Once adjusting the temperature, she slowly removed her clothes and stepped in. The heated water felt soothing on her sore limbs, and it relaxed her.

The clocks chimed 11:00, and Samantha pulled on a pair of overalls, a white shirt and black and white converse. She looked into the mirror as she pulled her hair back into a ponytail. "Time to work." she kissed the photograph she had placed on the bedside table. "Wish me luck, mom!"

She opened one door and discovered the dance studio. Dusty mirrors lined three out of the four walls, while the fourth wall was nothing but curtain covered windows.

She smiled and went and opened each of the curtains, allowing light to come into the room. Samantha coughed as the air was filled with dust; she had to leave the room to let the air settle. When she returned she laughed at her reflection, she was covered with a thin layer of white dust. She removed the bandana from her back pocket and began to dust herself off.

The familiar feeling of being watched came back, by now, the feeling was actually a feeling of comfort. And she didn't know why it made her feel that way. It just did. Samantha looked up to the ceiling and, not to any one in particular, smiled. "Thank you," she said softly before beginning her work on cleaning the dance studio.