Muted Song

Chapter 1

Twenty-three year old Selina looked down at her younger sister, Adele, who was twelve years old. The two of them were standing in front of the Opera Populaire, the largest building in the area. In one hand, Selina held the letter from her mother, and in the other, their trunk. They didn't have much, but that was OK. All they needed was the clothes on their backs, a few prized possessions, and each other.

Taking a deep breath, she started up the steps, Adele following close behind, helping carry the trunk. As they passed through the doors, their eyes widened at it's majestic beauty. They were so caught up with what they saw that they didn't see the stern woman approaching.

"May I help you?" She asked

Selina's eyes flickered to Adele, who answered the question. "We're looking for Madame Antoinette Giry," after which she smiled softly.

"I am she." Madame Giry said, "I'll repeat the question. Can I help you?"

Selina held out the envelope silently. It was a light blueish color, and if you took the time to smell it, it would have the light scent of lavender and roses. On the front, in shaky calligraphy, spelled the addressees name.

Giry took the letter, but paused before opening. "What are your names?" She asked. Once again, Selina silently answered her question by pointing to the letter. Beginning to be slightly frustrated with the older girl's silence, she pulled the message out of the envelope.

Selina closed her eyes as she envisioned the words in her mind. She had read it many times since she received it, and they were seared there permanently.

Dearest Antoinette,

I apologize for the lack of communication over the years. It would not have been that way if I had my way. My husband was...constricting. As you read this, dearest sister, know that I am passed. If you are reading this, my husband has most likely murdered me. At this, Madame Giry looked up sharply at the girls. Selina gave a quick nod, knowing what she was asking about. Adele was too busy looking around, not knowing what was in the letter. Selina had not permitted her. She was too sweet and innocent to know. Giry looked back down and continued reading. Do not panic. Nothing can be done. Just please, please, keep my girls safe. They should have been the ones to give this to you. I entrusted it to Selina's care.

A few things about each of them. Selina most likely will not talk. A traumatic experience made it that way. She speaks to those she trusts, but she doesn't trust many. She is an excellent cook and baker, and she loves working backstage. Even if you do not employ her in these careers, she will find a way. They need the money though, so please do. Also, give her access to a piano in her free time, and you will not see her. Selina is twenty-three. Treat her as so, or older, and you will not have any problems. Her full name is Selina Mariane LeClair. Light sky's bitter grace. She is much like her name suggests.

Young Adele is sweet. Though she may wish it, please, do not let her know the full extent of my death immediately. Let her know when she is ready. She and Selina have a close bond, and she speaks for both of them. They know what the other is thinking most of the time. Do not separate them, please. Give them a room of their own. She is a dancer, and she picks dances up quickly. Let her dance. She is amazing at it. Give her access to a piano as well, and she will be happy. She is twelve. Be kind to her. She has experienced many hardships. They both have. As her full name claims, Adele Rose LeClair, she truly is a bright tender rose.

All I ask is that you let them stay at the Opera house. Employ them. You will not regret it. They are good workers. They don't need to be spoiled. Give them a room of their own, I say again. They can fend for themselves. Do not let them go back to their father, I beg of you. I would have had them leave sooner, but they wouldn't leave me.

As for our good friend, The Opera Ghost, let him know I am passed, and that I apologize for leaving. Let him read this, but warn him to not chase after Edward, my husband. He would regret it.

I love you all, and I will miss you. Do not mourn.

Love, your sister,

Josephine DeClair

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Well...I cried writing this chapter. I know, I know, I cry a lot, but... Yeah.

Goodbye, my Phanatics!

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~megzilla01