Mirror

Chapter 14

“Indeed."

Sarah stood silent as Erik forced himself to be patient, to wait for her to acknowledge him here in her home in the harsh light of day.

"Erik?" His name fell from her lips again as she shook her head side to side to side in disbelief. "Erik...who?"

"Simply Erik. If I was given any other name, I have no memory of it."

"Convenient."

"I beg your pardon?"

"No, no I have this all figured out. " Erik watched as she began to pace the room. "Let me guess...your little magic act wasn't good enough for Vegas or Branson, hell not even enough for a kiddie show. So you try to play in into the Phantom hype to boost your act."

"Act?" Stay calm Erik....control.

She stopped in front of the window, running her hands through her tangled hair as she looked out. "The question is why? Why pick on someone out in the middle of fucking Wisconsin? I left LA to get away from all the crazies...and here's one in my fucking living room!"

Sarah turned and slammed her fists hard onto the lid of the piano. "I have enough baggage! I have had enough lies to last a lifetime!" You will not cry again.

She met his eyes with a gaze of steel. "So tell me the fucking truth!" And broke into tears

Erik looked at the irate woman in front of him, and was at a complete loss as to what he should do.

See I told you...madness. The voice began to hiss before he forced it into silence.

"Sarah..." Erik forced his tone to be calm, his voice to be gentle.

"Sarah..." She looked up at him this time. "I speak the truth. I am only Erik.'

"Sure...nice tie in with the book." She sniffed. "Goes great with the costume."

"Book? Costume?" Erik walked from the mirror to the piano, well aware of how Sarah moved to stand opposite. "What are you talking about?

"Oh please." Her tone moved from anger to exasperation as she quickly sidestepped around to the bookcase. She scanned carefully, glancing back every so often.

"Here!" A worn paperback flew through the air and landed on the floor. Erik started to pick it up but froze as she yelled. "NO...wait!" She yanked another book off the shelf, this one hitting his shoulder before landing on the piano. "That one."

Erik picked up the book from the piano and nearly dropped it as he turned to see the front cover. There, underneath the title Le Fantome de L' Opera, one of his masks stared back at him.

"What?"

"Don't act like you've never seen that ....it's obvious you're a copycat. So Monsieur le Fantome...since you're so into the character....why not read the original novel? En francais?"

Erik opened the book.

"Le fantôme de l'Opéra a existé. J'avais été frappé dès l'abord que je commençai à compulser les archives de l'Académie nationale de musique par la coïncidence surprenante des phénomènes attribués au fantôme et du plus mystérieux, du plus fantastique des drames, et je devais bientôt être conduit à cette idée que l'on pourrait peut-être rationnellement expliquer celui-ci par celui-là. "

Sarah's jaw dropped. How could he? No I know...

"Interpretez, s'il vous plait."

Erik's green eyes met hers, held them in understanding of her challenge.

"The Opera ghost really existed. He was not, as was long believed, a creature of the imagination of the artists, the superstition of the managers, or a product of the absurd and impressionable brains of the young ladies of the ballet, their mothers, the box-keepers, the cloak-room attendants or the concierge."

"Oh God...you're real."