Page 96 of Our Strange Duet

“What does it say?” My mouth had gone dry. I wasn’t sure how to read the expression now darkening his face and had no idea how to respond. Did he need my tears and trembling or my pleas of mercy and denial? Should I be sweet? Should I be helpless? How best could I console him? What did I need to do to keep myself protected? “Raoul?”

He raised one hand, drawing everyone’s attention, and then, in a booming, measured voice, read the rest of Erik’s note.

“As for Miss Christine Daaé…there’s no doubt she’ll do her best. We all know her voice is good, but—should she wish to excel—she has much still to learn, if only her pride will let her return to me once more. Your obedient friend…and Angel,” he leveled at me. “O.G.”

For the first time that morning, the room fell into complete silence. I could feel the weight of everyone’s stares, even as I kept my eyes trained on the carpet before me.

“I can’t do it,” I whispered, keenly aware of all the ways I was failing everyone in the company. “I won’t.”

Raoul took in a deep breath, then stopped short, as if struck by a new thought. “We’ve all been completely blind.” He wiped a hand over his mouth, stifling laughter. “All of us have been dancing about, wailing and gnashing our teeth to this madman’s song, but there’s a way to make it end, to make it all stop. And the answer has been staring us straight in the face! Each of us can get exactly what we want.” He laughed again, looking at everyone gathered. “I can’t believe I didn’t see it till now.”

Monsieur André tilted his head. “We’re listening…”

Raoul stepped into the middle of the group. “What’s the one thing he wants?”

The room was silent, everyone thinking.

“His opera,” Raoul said, answering himself. “He wants his opera produced. So we’ll do it. We will go along with his game and perform his work, all the while remembering that we hold the ace.” His eyes landed on me.

Ubaldo let out a gasp of understanding. “If Christine sings—”

“Then he’ll be in attendance, watching!” Monsieur Firmin realized, clapping his hands together.

Monsieur André nodded excitedly. “If we make certain the doors are barred—”

“And we make certain the gendarmes are there,” Raoul added, “when the curtain falls, his reign will end!”

The men began to cheer as if they’d solved every problem in one sweep.

“Madness,” Madame Giry hissed. “This is madness!”

“Not if it works,” Monsieur Firmin said, noticing that not everyone in the office was as enthused as he was. “The tide will turn and—”

“There is no way of turning this tide,” she insisted.

They fell into argument, each shouting louder and louder to be heard.

Carlotta and Ubaldo huddled together, whispering with heated indignation and throwing surreptitious glances over their shoulders, as if fearful of eavesdroppers. Despite their precautions, I heard my name mentioned several times.

I looked around the room, taking in all of the quarreling melee. Arguments rose, forming a cloud of jumbled words and phrases I could only just catch but not make sense of. I couldn’t tell who said what, only that everyone was so terribly angry and frightened.

“Hear my warning! Fear his fury!”

“It’s clear to all that she’s insane!”

“If Christine sings, we will get our man!”

“Say your prayers, Angel of Death!”

“This will seal his fate!”

I felt the force of each word, of every threat, as physical blows striking my ribs, punching my heart. Could they not see what a terrible plan this was? Could they not imagine the disaster that would befall every one of us?

Their whispers, their warnings, buzzed in my head like a swarm of hornets. I wanted to swat at them, to slap them to pieces, but I feared the sting which would follow.

How could they…

How could he…